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Of all the reactions she may have anticipated, him merely laying his head back against the cushions, staring up toward the ceiling and face impassive was not one of them. Her voice trailed off, not knowing what to say in light of his odd stoicism. Silence fell for several heartbeats, neither saying a word.

“Georgiana and Richard,” he broke the quiet with a muted tone. “Yes, it is all clear now. You are correct, dearest. Completely insensate. I interpreted his agitation as grief over Lady Fotherby, which I largely think is true, and Georgie I thought was just upset about his pain, also largely true. They have always gotten on so well, loved each other sincerely, that the concept of it maturing into something more never occurred to me.”

“You… do not seem upset.” It was a question as much as a statement, Darcy smiling and turning his head to look at her.

“No, I am not upset. Surprised, indeed so, but it is not a horrible development. I always imagined Georgiana marrying someone with an estate at least equal to Pemberley, perhaps even a title to go with it. I desire the best for my sister, wealth and security being essential; insist on it actually. But love cannot be tossed aside as inconsequential. And Richard is a quality man, as I know. Honestly, I suppose I would not have preferred to see my sister wed a military man of modest inheritance, but they do not come any better than Colonel Fitzwilliam. You say she is confused? How so?”

“She is young yet and the evolution of her emotions, and Richard’s toward her, have happened so abruptly. And under distressing circumstances…”

“Yes,” he interrupted. “That concerns me as well. Richard can be impulsive and his heart is wounded, no matter how much he wishes to thrust it aside. Falling in love with Georgiana is not shocking at all, as she is beautiful and perfect in every way, but I do not want to see her hurt by someone who is, however unwittingly, seeking to assuage his own pain. I am glad he left without pushing for an engagement.”

“Georgie insisted he return to London and face the past.”

“Did she?” He chuckled. “Very wise, my baby sister.” He began to laugh louder, shaking his head in resignation. “Yes, I am truly the blind fool in this little drama. All the oblique glances, intimate conversations, and blushes are now flashing through my mind with clarity. Just a couple of days ago Richard was talking about finding love elsewhere, the desire for family and a home of his own, and moving on with his life past the disappointments. He practically nailed me to the wall in declaring his worthiness as husband material! He could have asked permission to court Georgiana right then and it would have been impossible for me to disallow it! Quite crafty, that cousin of mine.”

“I doubt if he was purposely attempting to coax you, as I think, from what Georgie says, that he is wise enough to recognize the need for distance and perspective. He would never do anything to cause Georgiana pain.”

“No, there is no question of that.”

She nestled closer to his side, his arm instantly encircling. “It appeals to you then? The idea of the two of them wed?”

He sighed, nodding slowly. “It will take some getting used to, I confess. An adjustment to my thinking on numerous levels. Her happiness is the prime objective so I would need to know for certain that this is what her heart desires above all else. I am adamant that they not rush, and I will assuredly torture Richard a bit over it. Part of the fun, you see!” He was grinning, his eyes distant. Giggles erupted from Lizzy, Darcy glancing to her amused face. “Yes, Mrs. Darcy? You are entertained?”

“I was recalling a man who raged and stormed when his sister off-handedly mentioned a Lord Gruffudd once upon a time.”

“She was only seventeen at that time, may I remind you, and beyond my reach. This scenario is entirely different.” He reached to cup her cheek, fingers brushing tenderly. “It is vital that Georgie find the happiness due her, as I have. I want to see Richard content and settled as well, but not at the expense of my sister. I am not taking this lightly, I can assure you. We must all be cautious. And patient.”

He leaned in to kiss her, moving slowly and sensuously over her lips. “Now, let us put aside the unsolvable puzzle of lovesick relatives for the moment. If memory serves, we have two special days to celebrate soon.”

“We do.”

“Alexander’s birthday will be a family affair with his own cake being created by Mrs. Langton, that an extravagance if you ask me, but since no one did, I shall remain mute on the subject. But for you, Mrs. Darcy, I have decided that our first anniversary was abbreviated and not the glorious celebration I anticipated. Thus we must doubly lionize this anniversary. Two years of bliss with the most beautiful woman alive.”

“And what did you have in mind, Mr. Darcy?” She asked breathlessly, the question partially redundant as he already had her reclining onto the sofa with his hard body pressed onto her now half-clothed flesh.

“Jewels, intimate dinners, dancing, perhaps a picnic in the orangery, more gifts, and long nights of passion before the fire.” His husky voice rose from her bared bosom, the stimulating fingers deep under her lacy shift leaving no doubt his intended way to initiate the celebration of their biennial. But he told her anyway, “What I currently have in mind, in case you were unsure, is to wildly, passionately make love to you right here on this sofa. What this will include, for your edification, is…” And he proceeded to descriptively verbalize each move, usually as it was being enacted upon her body. 

Chapter Nineteen

Hearts Beat Once Again

Colonel Fitzwilliam spent the remaining days of November immersed in his work. There was a great deal to do, stacks of papers having accumulated on his desk and a fresh-faced batch of recruits to whip into shape. All of this was fortuitous, as it allotted him scant time to dwell on the two women who invaded his heart. Nonetheless, as the days passed and December loomed on the horizon, the maddening aspects of his situation escalated.

Georgiana’s presence intruded at odd moments throughout his waking day. Her adorable smile, gentle touch, melodic voice raised in song or lively discourse, glowing blue eyes, and lilting laugh pervaded his consciousness and filled his soul with peace and warmth. He missed her in a way that he never had before. Their separation was necessary, but sweetly painful in how he longed for her. That fact alone was gladdening and strengthened his resolve. Absence indeed made the heart grow fonder, and those instances of cheerful contemplation were grasped onto with vigor.

But at night, and even upon unguarded occasions during the day, Simone’s memory was equally vibrant and only grew in power. The stimulus was not due to specific places he went, as he rarely ventured beyond his humble house and the Regimental yard and offices. Nor was it mentions of her name in the papers or among his peers, as he still refused to glance at the Society pages and he did not mingle at the Club or other venues where London gossip swirled. She was simply there, in his mind and, to his irritation, his heart with a persistent yearning felt acutely in his body. He heard her voice, saw her smile, envisioned her eyes, and felt the tingles of her touch as surely as if she were standing beside him.

In his dreams she came to his bed with all the erotic and sensual glories that Georgiana did not. This latter distressed him greatly. Was it just lingering feelings of guilt or scruples over falling for someone he had known since infancy? He wished now that he had succumbed to his desires to kiss her that day in the conservatory, but solicitude for her emotions under the bizarre circumstances had stayed him. Was his inability to imagine being with her in an intimate way due to that? Yet, when he tried to force the fantasy, when he purposefully replaced Simone’s face and body with Georgiana’s, his mind recoiled. Vague qualms raced through his consciousness, inexplicable shame for envisioning her in such a sordid way. Of course this was ludicrous if she was to be his wife! He welcomed dreams of this nature with Georgiana, but they never materialized beyond tender kisses; always melding into Simone’s figure and face when the passion ignited beyond his lucid control.