The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery

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“YOU DECEIVE NO ONE, Mr. Darcy,” his wife accused lovingly. “You worry for Georgiana's well-being.”

“As do you, Mrs. Darcy,” he countered as he lifted three-month-old Bennet from the boy's crib and supported the child in the crook of his arm. Whenever the child was near, Fitzwilliam Darcy felt compelled to hold his special miracle. He had his heir, at last, and he had spent countless hours just staring at Bennet Fitzwilliam George Darcy's perfect countenance. “You cannot tell me that my sister's lack of correspondence has not rubbed against your curiosity.”

Elizabeth Darcy smiled knowingly. Her husband was a man of honor and of responsibility and of passion; yet, the contentment of holding his son always softened the man's usually grim expression. “Unlike you, my husband, my curiosity does not paint pictures of invading hordes. I simply wish to share in Georgiana's happiness. She and Edward deserve this time together, but I admit to being interested in how they have adjusted.”

Darcy sat in a nearby chair and cradled the child. He peeled the blanket from the boy's face and traced a finger along his son's chin line. He thought he had recognized his father's features in his heir's countenance, but Elizabeth had insisted it was too early to know for certain. “I should not have allowed her to travel alone,” he chastised himself.

“Georgiana is long removed from the schoolroom. Our sister is a married woman. She has a husband to protect her. It is no longer your obligation,” she insisted.

Darcy's actions spoke of tenderness, but his words possessed a granite resolve. “Georgiana's safety is forever my obligation. Even Edward cannot usurp my charge.”

Elizabeth moved swiftly to kneel before him. “No one can sever your bond to Georgiana, and I am not simple enough to suggest that you should ignore your responsibilities. Yet, I shall suggest that we permit Georgiana some latitude. Wellington's last push to rid the world of Napoleon robbed your sister of the wedding of which she had always dreamed. She and Edward married in a rush before your cousin returned to the battlefields. Georgiana merely wanted time to prepare the Fitzwilliam properties for Edward's return. She is still discovering what it means to be a wife.”

His sister's eyes had sparked with the devotion she had offered their cousin. Darcy was slow to admit that Georgiana glowed when she looked upon Edward's weatherworn face. Despite the evidence of the couple's affection for each other, he had wanted to scream with the injustice of having to give his Georgiana to any man—even one as perfect as Major General Edward Fitzwilliam. She was his little sister—not old enough to be exchanging her wedding vows and leaving him behind.

“My mind knows the truth of your words, Mrs. Darcy, but my heart speaks a different language.” He caressed Elizabeth's neck. “I have fretted over Georgiana for too many years to no longer give a care.”

“She did send word of her safe arrival,” Elizabeth insisted.

“That was some three weeks prior,” he contested.

Elizabeth leaned in for a quick kiss and then stood. “Must I remind you that Edward was expected the week after our sister's arrival? Do you not suppose that the Fitzwilliams are enjoying their time together? Allowing themselves the opportunity to discover a new love, a new relationship,” she argued. “Oh, my darling,” Elizabeth coaxed, “you must realize that the Major General is coming to terms with the fact that the girl he protected as a child is now a woman.”

She handed Darcy a wooden dowel that young Bennet preferred as a teething tool. “Christmastide thrust Edward and Georgiana together for a few days here and there, and just when they had thought to marry and create a life together, Bonaparte's escape from Elba ripped them apart. They had but three days as husband and wife before…” Elizabeth's voice trailed off. She blushed thoroughly before adding, “Do you not think that the Major General and Mrs. Fitzwilliam are claiming their shared life?”

Darcy's frown lines met. “That is not an image in which I care to indulge,” he grumbled.

Elizabeth laughed lightly. “Cannot tolerate thoughts of Georgiana enjoying intimacies with her husband?” she taunted playfully.

Darcy rose to place the child on the blanket Elizabeth had arranged on the Persian carpet decorating her sitting room. “I will not entertain such thoughts,” he warned. “Otherwise, I will be on horseback and riding toward Galloway to challenge my cousin to a duel.”

Elizabeth good-naturedly swatted at him as he passed her. “I am just saying that your sister has other things on her mind.”

“I will hear no more of such nonsense.” His hand rested on the room's doorknob.

Elizabeth smiled mockingly. “Of course, my husband. To refuse to consider Georgiana's marital state is to make it nonexistent.”

Elizabeth realized that her teasing had not allayed her husband's qualms. They had not assuaged her own, so she was not foolish enough to think that it might dissuade the formidable Fitzwilliam Darcy. She, too, had spent countless hours pacing the floor fretting over Georgiana's lack of correspondence. It was not typical of her husband's sister to ignore her family. Even with hopes of marital felicity for Georgiana, Elizabeth recognized how out of character this behavior had become. She had teased and taunted her husband to hide her own anxiety.