Darcy had proven true in the special type of brotherly comfort, support, and cheering that Richard had so desperately sought. Initially, Darcy had simply been shocked to the core at the result of Richard’s romance. Nearly overwhelmed with remorse at his previous good-natured chafing, he had apologized profusely for his jocosity; but the idea of Richard being unsuccessful had never occurred to him. Of course, the irony in being so confident of Richard’s triumph in light of his own fraught path to matrimony was not lost on either of them, and they did share a few laughs over it. In the end, Darcy could offer nothing in the way of a solution—not that Richard anticipated it—only able to be the proverbial shoulder to lean on.
Richard appeared to be handling his broken heart with far better humor and control than Darcy had. Generally, this was attributed, rightfully so, to his inherent optimism and ebullience. He spoke of Lady Fotherby rarely, and only to Darcy. He refused to read any of the London newspapers that were delivered regularly, the fear of seeing her name attached to Lord Wellson’s in some Society event too great. Oddly, beyond the official announcement, Lady Fotherby was conspicuously absent. The same could not be said of the popular and exhibitionistic Marquess, who was remarkably at every party or ball or event of import, performing outrageously as usual. Only once was Lady Fotherby mentioned, and that was a saucy jibe as to how his newly betrothed must feel about her intended squiring assorted ladies of dubious character to these functions while she was in apparent seclusion at her father’s estate in Hampshire for the holiday season. It was strange.
Darcy was the only one in the family, with the exception of Alexander, who was utterly oblivious to the subtle currents between Georgiana and Richard. No one spoke of it, not even the two individuals who privately wrestled with their emotions. However, there was secret suspicion and speculation that at least some of the Colonel’s ability to deal with his gloom was due to the startling alteration in his feelings toward Georgiana.
All Richard knew for certain was that he could not bear to leave without talking to Georgiana about his feelings. It was only the when and how that concerned him. Well, that and the trepidation over what Darcy would do to him when he found out!
“I have already decided, actually, to leave next week,” Richard answered the query.
“If you wait a bit longer we can travel together, as we are leaving for London in December. The company would be appreciated and I am not yet that weary of your presence.”
Richard chuckled along with Darcy, but then glanced over with a contrite expression on his face as he said, “No offense, my friend, but I would rather not be here when you and Elizabeth celebrate your anniversary. I doubt if you want me dampening your joy.”
“You would not—”
“Yes, I would,” Richard stated firmly. “But to be blunt, I am actually thinking selfishly.”
Darcy nodded and argued no further.
“No point in delaying the inevitable. I suppose when I rode here I had a vague notion of hiding in my room until after the nuptials were past, but what is the point of that? I cannot pretend any longer that I will be able to avoid facing… her… at some point. Not that I travel in the same circles as Lord Wellson, I am pleased to say for a host of reasons.” He paused, twirling the dregs in his teacup and staring with mesmerizing intensity. “No, life does move on, Darcy, whether we wish it so or not. You discovered the same, although the woman of your dreams returned to you.” His voice was faintly mocking.
“Do not give up all hope, Richard. There is someone else out there for you, I am sure of it. You have taken a large step in admitting you want marriage and family. I think in your case, unlike with me, this was a huge hurdle to overcome.”
“Indeed. You always yearned for home and love. Your character and losses placed that desire upon your heart at an exceptionally young age. I, on the other hand, yearned for adventure. Or maybe I merely wished to evade this sort of drama.”
Darcy stared at his cousin’s cloudy face, trying to decipher the welter of emotions that played over his features. He spoke softly, “Do you hate her? Has your anger turned to bitterness, cousin, or acceptance? Do not allow her actions to scar you so that your heart is stone and unable to love elsewhere.”
“Could you have, William? Could you have loved so easily elsewhere if Elizabeth married another?”
Their eyes held for long heartbeats, the contemplative stasis finally broken by Darcy. “No. Never. I am certain of that. But at the risk of incurring your wrath, you know as well as I that we are different in this respect. You just said so yourself.” He held up his hand to stay Richard’s retort, although oddly none was forthcoming. Richard was honestly interested to hear Darcy’s rationale.
“I searched long for love, a particular type of love that I never saw even remotely in anyone until Elizabeth. The odds of me being able to relinquish the totality of my sentiments were unlikely. The odds of finding another woman to love and fill that void, even slightly, were smaller still. You, conversely, barely considered the idea of marriage, let alone passionate love, until a year ago. I am in no way diminishing the force of your convictions and emotions, Cousin. Rather I judge you a man more capable of handling the battles and storms of life. I envy you that trait, always have. Your strength is of a different quality than mine. You are resilient, adaptable, spirited, and sanguine. Doom and gloom simply do not surround you, they never have.”
Richard nodded. “Perhaps that means I am incapable of deep love.”
“No! I did not mean that!”
Richard chuckled. “Oh, be still, William, I know you didn’t. Nor do I think that true of me. You are absolutely correct, actually, annoying as that is to admit to your face. You have a serious streak a hundred miles long whereas I cannot go an hour without joking.” He sighed again, deeply, before leaning forward and snatching Alexander away from his perch between his father’s legs, the baby hardly blinking as he calmly transferred his interest to the big man’s shiny buttons and epaulettes.
“We are different, you and I, in many ways. I know my love for Simone was real and strong. And I know it will hurt for a long while to come. But I also know I can love another. Resilient, as you said.” He smirked, Darcy grinning helplessly. “Yet there are dozens of ways in which we are exactly the same. Furthermore, I have changed significantly. I know what I want and it is a family. I want a woman at my side and one of these”—he tickled Alexander, who giggled—“to play with and annoy me at night. And just to be clear, I blame you for every last bit of it and damn you each chance I get!”
“I shall accept responsibility partially, although I believe your mother may have some fault in your corruption. For the record, and I cannot believe I am saying this, the woman who graces your side will be a lucky woman indeed.”
“Do you truly mean that?” The sharp tone and piercing glance were not lost on Darcy, but interpreted incorrectly.
“Of course I mean it! I may deny it unless in a court of law, but I do mean it.” He smiled to soften his taunt, voice falling into the husky timbre associated with heartfelt emotion. “Lady Fotherby is a fool to choose as she did, Richard. There is no sense in it at all. It is her loss and I pity her idiocy even though I am filled with anger for her hurting you. Elizabeth is merely incensed with no sympathy at all.” He chuckled. “You will be a fabulous husband and marvelous father. Any woman will be blessed to be yours.”
“Thank you, William. That means the world to me.”
Late the following afternoon, Richard successfully sought out Georgiana in the orangery. A light rain had begun to fall again, softly pelting the panes of glass and obscuring what grey daylight feebly shone through, casting the generally bright, almost summery atmosphere of the garden chamber into a gloomy pall. Nonetheless, it was warmer here than anywhere else in the Manor, and the varied blooms and greenery persistently flourished in oblivion to the dormancy in the world without.