Sharon Lathan - My Dearest Mr. Darcy - An Amazing Journey into Love Everlasting

August 7

Pemberley

Seems as if I barely arrived and now I am leaving! Not sure what came over me yesterday, but tomorrow most of us are departing, except for William and Elizabeth, who will be touring the southern Midlands. And, if I know my nephew even slightly, most likely purchasing anything remotely infant related within a fifty-mile radius.

I feel the itch to travel, but not with the same vagrancy typical of me. No, Jharna, it is not my usual restlessness. Quite the opposite, in fact. These past weeks have been so marvelous, and being at Pemberley has filled my soul with a peace I honestly have not felt in decades, even with you, my devoted lover. It is home. Perhaps I am sensing my mortality creeping up on me, not that I plan on departing this earth anytime soon. Fifty-three is far from old, I declare with shaking fist to the heavens! No, it is still this blasted sentimentality that has invaded my person. Ga!

The simple truth is that I feel the complete opposite of restless. What would that be? Calm, abeyant, satisfied? All of the above, I suppose. So, I want to take advantage of the fine weather and visit a few more old friends in London and the surrounds, and then visit Estella. All of this traveling and imposing on other's hospitality is welcomed with great anticipation, yet also because I want to be done with it and return to Pemberley before the winter and Baby Darcy is born. I planted the seed yesterday, both William and Elizabeth surprised by my hint. I do hope they take this separation to get used to the idea because I will deliver their child if I have to apply my brutal strength to the task and physically evict the midwife from the room! Of course, they adore me so I do not think that will be necessary. Yes, Jharna, smug as always.

Additionally, the lovers need some time alone. I swear those two are as transparent as glass. I know a gentleman should not entertain musings of another's sexual relationship, but it is nearly impossible not to do so around them! Poor Georgiana. Good thing she is used to being on her own because I seriously doubt she sees any more of her brother now then she did before! Be that as it may, they are rather cute together—awful word but it is apropos in this case—so I am casting no negative judgments. Warms the heart, actually, which is another reason I need to depart for awhile: I am becoming far too maudlin with all this romance in the air. Time for the Colonel and me to remember we are bachelors, loose and unencumbered!

Raja, I am coming to accept with equanimity and happiness, shall likely not be counted amongst the unattached for very much longer. As I have written, the affection, nay Love… call it what it is, George… is genuine between him and Miss Anne. His plan, he tells me now, is to work his charm on Lady C. I advised him just to tell her he is royalty and that will be that; but he is far too noble, wants to earn her approval on his own merits, gain respect, etc. I just laughed, slapped him on the back, and wished him well in the endeavor. So first I absolutely have to tarry in Kent as I would not miss this for the world!

Malcolm and Madeline are off to tour through Wales, taking Georgiana with them. Leaves the newlyweds utterly alone, which I know pleases them. They intend to take a small jaunt through the lower Midlands, William told me. He wants his wife to be familiar with her new shire. Plus I think they plan to purchase baby essentials. I thought it odd they did not denude London of every last diapering cloth or bonnet. Apparently they have chosen to strip Derby bare instead! First, however, he asks me seriously if I felt a woman in her fifth month should travel. I assured him that pregnant women are truly not all that fragile, especially with husbands who dote and fret so ridiculously. He was not particularly amused, but reassured. Besides, what can possible go wrong in my beautiful and peaceful agricultural county?

Anyway, I am off to Kent and then Darcy House for a spell before Devon. No agendas! Absolutely not! Allow the wind to carry me wherever it sees fit. Perhaps no longer restless per se, but definitely insouciant and aimless!

The sun had long since set. The full moon cast a pale bluish glow over the carpet and furnishings near the widely open windows of the Darcys' spacious private sitting room. It was far too warm on this late August evening to have a fire lit, but several oil lamps and candles illuminated the area near the empty fireplace. Darcy, as always, refused to grope in darkness or strain his or his wife's eyes while they read.

They reclined on the chaise, Lizzy nestled between her husband's legs with her back pressed into his bare chest. Peaceful silence surrounded them as they attended to the stack of correspondence that had accumulated during their journey south. Darcy, especially, was still working his way through the pile that seemed to grow rather than diminish as business-related items were continually added to the top.

Tonight he eschewed any business letters, choosing to read a lengthy missive from his sister while absently toying with a lock of his wife's hair. Lizzy smiled and lightly stroked her husband's cloth-covered thigh as she read a letter from her sister Jane that had arrived that day.

My Dearest Lizzy,

My heart nearly stopped as you related your trauma with the bandits! Oh, dearest sister, how absolutely awful an experience! I am trembling yet at the horror of it and the thankfulness in your recovery. How proud of Mr. Darcy you must be! Charles was not at all surprised. I recall him telling me once that Mr. Darcy was an excellent marksman. Of course I am quite certain he never anticipated his dear friend utilizing his skills so. Has Papa written you? Undoubtedly he shall relate the episode in an amusing manner, but Mama was quite taken by your mishap. Her nervous attack was of stupendous proportions. She has been abed for two days, despite your and Mr. Darcy's assurances that all was well. Papa retreated to his library as usual, appearing only to halt the mournful letter she had penned to you! Therefore you shall necessarily be required to affect commiseration when next you write to Mama.

Thank you for relating your excursion abroad the Derbyshire countryside. What a marvelous idea! I must share this tidbit of humor: Charles was reading Mr. Darcy's letter as I was reading yours when suddenly he snorted in disgust. I inquired as to his concern and he recalled Mr. Darcy boring him nearly to death while in France with the endless tours of old castles and ruins. I chuckled so, dear Lizzy, as your letter expressed such joy over the adventures! Of course, I can empathize with my husband as such diversions are not appealing to me; however, I am cognizant of how you adore them, so was thrilled you two embarked on the endeavor.

If you have received a letter from Papa, then you know he accepted the news of Charles and me relocating with serenity. I know he is saddened, and perhaps he has communicated his distress to you; nonetheless, he understands and has given us his blessing. Mama, shockingly, was in hysterics. Oh Lizzy, it was awful! She wailed and moaned, lamenting how all her daughters have deserted her and she would never be able to kiss her grandchildren. Poor Charles was frantic. Papa took her in hand, but it was terrible. I must confess, as horrendous as your crisis, it did succeed in deflecting Mama's anxiety from me! Hopefully for both our sakes, Mary will proffer a blessed announcement forthwith to further avert Mama's absorption and cheer her spirits.

As for Charles and me, we are proceeding as planned. I do believe Charles would have packed up and departed within the week, but I have given him pause. It is a difficult move for me, Lizzy dear. You know that change is not embraced as easily by me as you. While we were yet in Derbyshire, my enthusiasm was as profound as Charles's. Now that I am home, Hertfordshire continually draws me in with all her lures and homey comforts. Yet oddly I find that with each passing day the sense of belonging, especially at Netherfield, ebbs. Charles speaks of Hasberry daily, and I am beginning to long for the charms of the house. Mostly, of course, my heart yearns to please my husband. I am so proud of his spirit and zeal as well as the serious maturity he displays in regard to this new undertaking.