He found Lydia Wickham not deficient in good humor when she was pleased, nor in the power of being agreeable when she chose it; and although rather handsome, she was in the habit of spending more than she ought, a grievous error in a lady as far as Peter was concerned.

“No,” he whispered, “not Mrs. Darcy or the girl.” The mistress of the estate, although occasionally bordering on impertinence, had an affectionate nature, which added to her virtue. He had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud, but the observation of a very few minutes convinced him that the girl was only exceedingly shy. In fact, Peter rather liked Georgiana. Despite his disapproval of Mrs. Darcy’s and of Miss Darcy’s choice of attire for the play, only Mrs. Wickham gave true offense. “Outrageous,” he muttered. Like his father, he held the opinion that the loss of virtue in a female was irretrievable; that one false step involved her in endless ruin; that her reputation was no less brittle than it was beautiful; and that she could not be too guarded in her behavior toward the undeserving of the other sex.

Peter was well aware of the history of George Wickham and his wife. Though he did not suppose Mrs. Wickham to have deliberately engaged in an elopement without the intention of marriage, neither her virtue nor her understanding had kept Lydia Bennet from committing the ultimate transgression—possessing nothing but love, flirtation, and officers in her head, she had succumbed and entrapped at the same time. Peter had never understood Wickham’s choice. What attractions had Lydia Bennet beyond youth, health, and good humor? What could make him for her sake forego every chance of benefiting himself by marrying well?

“No, it must be Mrs. Wickham,” he repeated. “She is the most deserving.”


Darcy became engrossed in the Pemberley rendition of Shakespeare’s comedy. His sister playfully came alive, and despite the troubles plaguing his household, he accepted the possibilities of Georgiana’s future—of her finding a match appropriate to her station, but also a loving relationship. He would not give his consent, no matter the man’s title or his wealth, to any suitor who did not engage Georgiana’s heart.

As the final scenes developed—leading to the masked wedding, where love prevails—Elizabeth slid into the empty chair on his left. Darcy caught her hand in his and brought the back of it to his lips. “Thank you,” he mouthed. She understood his meaning without his expressing the words.

“I love this scene,” she whispered.

Darcy smiled, “I recall.” During their courtship, Elizabeth had often asked when he had recognized his growing affection for her. On one such evening, Darcy had turned the tables and pleaded with her for words of devotion, and they had repeated Beatrice’s and Benedick’s lines from the second scene of the play’s final act to each other. That evening, he had truly realized Elizabeth returned his love. Through the play, she spoke the words he most needed to hear. Now, he listened as Worth and Anne offered their interpretation of the characters.

Nigel Worth, as Benedick, took Anne’s hand as he spoke the words of affection, and Darcy found he caressed Elizabeth’s in anticipation. “And, I pray thee now tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?”

Anne smiled wryly. “For them all together, which maintained so politic a state of evil that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them. But for which of my good parts did you suffer love for me?”

Worth touched Anne’s cheek. “Suffer love! A good epithet. I do suffer love indeed for I love thee against my will.”

“In spite of your heart, I think. Alas, poor heart, if you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for yours, for I will never love that which my friend hates.”

“Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.” Darcy glanced at Elizabeth as Worth continued his recitation. Her lips moved in a silent mirror of the play’s action. It was true; they certainly had not “wooed peaceably”-more a resemblance of a fencing match, but now Elizabeth answered his every prayer-she brought Georgiana along; she admirably fulfilled the role of Pemberley’s mistress, and she carried his child. All the blessings of his life rested in her.

“I must go,” she murmured as she leaned closer. “I have one more scene.”

“Hurry back,” Darcy answered, reluctant to allow her to depart.

He heard Lady Catherine’s deep “hurmph” of contempt, but Darcy said something positive he was sure she would not cross. “Anne shows a true talent, Aunt.” He smiled to seal her agreement.

Her Ladyship spoke softly. “I would expect nothing less. She and Georgiana outshine the others.”

Darcy thought that an impossibility. He knew Miss Donnel to have at one time in the not too distant past earned her living on the stage. Stafford’s mistress may have left the performing arts behind, but she expressed the confidence to face an audience without blushing, something not found in his sister or in Anne.Yet, he graciously accepted the compliment meant for Georgiana and just as graciously ignored the cut aimed at his wife. With his aunt, Darcy had learned to pick his battles. “I am sure Anne and Georgiana would greatly appreciate your praise, my Dear.”

“However, I do not like the way that man mauls my daughter,” she hissed under her breath.

“It is part of the play,” he responded quietly, as they waited for the group to switch the scene. “And I believe Mr. Worth would treat Anne with respect under all circumstances.”

“Well, one would certainly hope so!”

The group’s return brought their attention to the stage. He observed that throughout the performance Mrs. Williams remained aloof.The lady did not laugh—did not politely applaud. She simply stared at the raised dais, a sour expression frozen on her face. He knew from his sister’s report that Mrs.Williams disapproved of the theater, and Darcy wondered why the woman bothered attending under the circumstances. He supposed she could find no way to politely refuse, and now the lady suffered in silence.

The viscount and Miss Donnel claimed love as Claudio and Hero, and then it became Beatrice’s and Benedick’s turn. Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Mrs.Wickham joined the audience, taking up positions behind Darcy, Lady Catherine, and Mrs. Williams. Lord Stafford produced the paper supposedly inscribed with Benedick’s love poem and handed it to Anne. In like form, Miss Donnel produced Beatrice’s love letter and presented it to Mr.Worth.

Worth and Anne pretended to read the incriminating words in opposition to their denials of affection. Worth declared the papers to be proof of their true feelings, even as Beatrice declared that she would love him only to save his life. And as they had rehearsed it earlier, Worth delivered the line, “Peace! I will stop your mouth.” Then he took Anne in his arms and kissed her thoroughly.

Elizabeth and Georgiana giggled and clasped hands in excitement. Darcy barked out a surprised laugh, but Lady Catherine gasped out her daughter’s name, instantly bringing the scene to its close.

“Anne!” Lady Catherine was on her feet. “You are becoming overwrought,” she declared in an autocratic tone. “You will retire immediately to your room.”

Anne flushed with embarrassment, but she refused her mother’s order. She spoke calmly and with respect, but her resolve remained firm.“Mother, this is only a play, but even if it were not, I am seven and twenty—too old to be sent to my room, as if I were a misbehaving child.”

Elizabeth rushed forward to offer Anne her support. “You are mistaken, Lady Catherine. Miss de Bourgh treated the scene with professionalism.”

Her Ladyship spit out, “What can one expect from a woman with no connections, who prances around in men’s attire and who corrupts the minds of her sisters in life and in marriage!”

With an effort, Elizabeth spoke calmly.“I found Miss de Bourgh’s and Mr.Worth’s performances tastefully executed,Your Ladyship.”

“Mother, please!” Anne cried.

“Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude?” Lady Catherine prepared for another assault as Darcy caught her arm and hurried her from the room.

“Darcy!” she protested, but he said nothing, only continued to escort his maternal aunt along the corridor from Pemberley’s ballroom to a nearby sitting room. Once the door had closed, however, he turned on her. “How dare you speak so disrespectfully to my wife and my cousin in my house and in front of my guests!” He seethed with anger still unspoken. “This family has tolerated your scathing disdain for years out of respect for your position as my dear mother’s sister. However, any latitude you have been allowed ended with your attack on my wife before my marriage. I swore then that all intercourse between us was at an end. I accepted your coming unannounced to Pemberley for my cousin’s sake and because that woman you abuse at every opportunity—my wife—has prevailed on me for some time to overlook the offense and to seek reconciliation. Mrs. Darcy has the most generous of natures and why she would agree to tolerate your continued censure is beyond my limits of understanding. It only speaks of Mrs. Darcy’s devotion to her family!”

Lady Catherine considered making an objection, but a warning glare from Darcy made her change her mind.

“You have a wonderful daughter, and your caustic words are driving her from your life. Do you wish to spend the rest of your days alone? Never knowing Anne’s happiness? Never to meet your own grandchildren? Do you wish to know my heirs or those of Georgiana?” He stalked away from her, needing distance from the woman. “Anne believes that she lost both parents when Sir Lewis passed—that you hardened yourself in order to run Rosings without a husband.” Darcy returned, looming over the woman. “I saw your motives for keeping my cousin under lock and key as more self-serving. I assumed you bullied Anne so you might maintain control of her fortune.You and I both know she inherits it all at age thirty or before, if she marries. Did you fear,Aunt, that the view from the dower house would not be as grand as the one from the main house? Is that why Anne never experienced a Season? Has never known a suitor?”

Lady Catherine’s shoulders sank with each of his accusations.“It was never my intent for Anne to suffer,” she murmured.

“Yet, she did, Aunt. The blame for Anne’s lack of social skills and her overabundance of naïveté lies clearly at your feet. It is my hope that Mr. Worth pursues a relationship with my cousin. If so, I pray you will have the good sense to swallow your pride and welcome a country gentleman into the family. The man will care for Anne and guide her and give her the open affection she has never known. Please remember my words,Your Ladyship; Anne is of age, and she is determined to find her own place in the world.You may either be part of her transition or be left behind to brood over your loss. It will be your choice, as it is hers.”

Darcy started away from her, unable to be in the same room with Lady Catherine any longer.“I expect you to offer Mrs. Darcy a genuine apology or order your maid to begin packing your bags for an early morning departure. As always, I welcome your insights into running an estate, but I will sanction no disrespect in your interactions with Elizabeth. I shall not question your intelligence, Aunt, by asking if you understand me. I am my father’s son, and he never accepted your disdain under his roof.” Darcy strode from the room, needing to find his family and make things right. Elizabeth, Georgiana, and now Anne needed him to provide them a safe and comfortable home—a place where they knew love and acceptance. He would not fail any of them.

“Mr. Baldwin.”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”

“Please send Her Ladyship’s maid to escort my aunt to her room.”

The butler bowed. “Immediately, Mr. Darcy.”


Peter knew where all the important members of the household were, so he made his way stealthily through the darkened passageway from the rooms formerly occupied by Miss de Bourgh and her companion to the suite given to Lydia Wickham for her Pemberley stay. He had taken a perverse pleasure in watching Mrs. Wickham. His father would reprimand him thoroughly for ogling a lady—maybe even take a cane to him—but he justified watching a woman in some of her most intimate moments because of his need to know about the opposite sex. His father certainly would not enlighten him, even if Peter asked him for information. He would consider it sinful to even have such thoughts. Besides, Peter did not consider Lydia Wickham a lady in the strictest sense of the word. He paused twice—waiting for the estate footmen to attend to their duties—before entering Mrs.Wickham’s chamber.