Prologue: Worthy in Every Way

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Prologue

4^th February 1815

Even though she sat upon the settee, appearing very much the lady she was, Lizzy’s knee bobbed in a furious rhythm. With her sister’s current state, Georgiana would soon need to restrain her brother’s wife should she become more discomposed. They were all at sixes and sevens to be assured Jane was well, but Lizzy’s inability to hold still was not helping any of them remain calm.

“How much longer will this take?” said Lizzy.

“Calm yourself,” said Lady Richmond, or Gran, as Georgiana had come to call her.

Amelia, Lizzy’s cousin and Lady Richmond’s granddaughter, grasped Lizzy’s knee in a firm grip. “We have to hope Janey is unharmed, and do cease that infernal movement. You are making me want to fidget.”

Lizzy stood and crossed her arms over her chest as she went to the window and stared like Georgiana’s brother, Fitzwilliam, would in large gatherings.

Georgiana stepped beside her. “You will see nothing from here.” Lizzy’s sister Jane had been abducted from her husband’s estate just outside of London a week ago, and tonight, they had reason to believe she would be recovered. While Jane was Georgiana’s sister-by-marriage, Georgiana’s heart had been ill-at-ease since her disappearance. Jane, who was the Duchess of Albemarle, was a gentle and kind lady who had always been quite easy to confide in, particularly when Georgiana found herself frustrated with Fitzwilliam or Lizzy—not that she was often at odds with them. On the contrary, they got on splendidly for the most part, but even those who were the best of friends still had moments of irritation towards the other.

“Georgiana, whether I see from here does not matter. I require some occupation or activity to keep me busy lest I run mad. What if they harm her?” Lizzy wiped a tear from her cheek. “I could not bear it if she…”

With a hand between Lizzy’s shoulder blades, Georgiana leaned closer. “Do not think the worst. You must not think the worst. Jane will be returned, and within the week she will surely deliver that baby you and Gran have been so eager to meet.”

“She swears it is a boy. Did I tell you that?”

“No, you did not, but if the child is a girl, I doubt your sister or her husband will be disappointed.”

Babies in their family were treasured. A rarity indeed, yet one Georgiana relished. She so adored fussing over a little one with their innocent smiles and irresistible laughter.

The door burst open and slammed against the wall. “Mistress! Mistress! The duke’s coach has returned, and upon its arrival, he carried a lady into the house.”

Lizzy’s sharp inhale pierced the moment of silence that followed.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Gran as she stood, causing almost all present to be startled at once.

Before Georgiana could place a hand upon her sister’s arm, Lizzy hastened from the room.

Gran made to follow. “Do not expect me to stop her. I want to see Janey with my own eyes. I need to know she is well.”

When Amelia stood, she looped her arm through Georgiana’s. “Come. I am certain you want to know what has occurred as well.”

As soon as they were bundled in their winter clothing, they descended to the pavement and began the short but brisk walk to Albemarle House. At the first blast of frigid air to her cheeks, Georgiana winced at the sting.

“I believe this winter is almost as cold as the last,” said Gran. “’Tis a wonder the Thames has not frozen over.” Last year, the Thames had indeed iced over deep enough to allow for a Frost Fair, yet this year, the river was not yet covered.[1]

“I hope Janey was kept warm.” White puffs came from Amelia’s mouth while she spoke.

Lizzy said nothing; she only quickened her pace.

Thankfully, the walk to Albemarle House was a short one, and the butler, Mr. Bates, admitted them without question.

“Lady Richmond, Lady Greene, Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy.”

“My sister has been recovered?” asked Lizzy without delay.

“Yes, ma’am. The duke rushed her upstairs. Allow me to make you comfortable while I send word you are here. I am certain Her Grace’s maid will be refreshing her mistress after her ordeal. May I suggest the music room? I shall have refreshments sent in, and you may remain for as long as you wish.”

Georgiana took Lizzy’s hand. “Come. He is right. The duke will want to ensure Jane is hale and see to it she is warmed and fed before he admits anyone, but I know he will not keep her from you once he is satisfied.”

Her sister bit her lip while her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “You are right—I know you are.”

Once they were made comfortable, a maid brought refreshments that sat untouched on the table while Lizzy resumed the incessant bobbing of her knee. It seemed that whether they were at Albemarle House or Darcy House the occupation was to be the same.

After almost five minutes, Georgiana prepared the tea and poured cups that she handed to each of them. Jane, from what the butler had said, was alive and well and above stairs. They had no need to worry as they had before. Surely Bates would have told them if Jane had been injured or ill.

Lizzy nodded when Georgiana placed the cup in front of her, but the the tapping of her heel upon the floor never ceased. Meanwhile, Gran sipped from her cup then placed it on the table. This continued until the housekeeper entered. Georgiana glanced at the clock. Had it truly only been half an hour?

“I beg your pardon, but Her Grace’s maid sends word that the duke is to refresh himself if you should like to see the duchess.”

Lizzy leapt from the sofa. “Yes, pray, take us to her.”

When the three of them reached the door, Lizzy looked back with a frown. “Georgiana, are you not coming?”

“I know Jane would be pleased to see me, but she has endured quite an ordeal and I do not want to overwhelm her. You go and satisfy your need to see her well. I shall remain here until you return. Should she wish for my company, she need only ask and I shall come.” If Georgiana were in a similar predicament, she would not desire a roomful of people gawping at her.

Lizzy nodded. “I understand. We shall tell her you are here and send your best wishes.”

“Thank you.”

Once the three ladies departed, Georgiana paced the room. A beautiful Broadwood Grand was placed in pride of position where all who entered would see the expensive instrument. Otherwise, the room was not as gaudy as she would have expected—for a duke that is. Gran had mentioned one or two dukes whose homes were all about what they could afford rather than what was pleasing and comfortable, yet Jane’s husband seemed to prefer the latter.

She continued to pace while she awaited their return. On the third circuit, a man stood in the doorway when she turned. She was not unaware of who he was. Lord Charles was the Duke of Albemarle’s youngest brother. He had attended Jane and the duke’s wedding as well as had visited Pemberley. She had not spoken to Lord Charles much. He was exceedingly handsome with his dark hair and striking hazel eyes. Her tongue never failed to stick to the roof of her mouth around him, so she had remained silent as a result.

Last year, he had lost his hearing—a tragedy indeed! Now that they were face to face, she knew not what to say—she could not speak with her hands as Jane and the duke had learnt to do. Without knowing how to communicate with him, she curtseyed and smiled.

Lord Charles bowed in return then departed. Truly, she had not expected more. Fitzwilliam had mentioned that the duke’s youngest brother had stopped speaking around those not in his family a short time ago. Fitzwilliam had not said why, but if Lord Chales had remained and been willing to talk, she could have learnt some of his language. Something about him drew her to him. For some reason, she wanted to try.

When Lizzy, Gran, and Amelia returned, they chattered on about how well Jane looked, though apparently, she appeared tired and had begun to labour. They spoke of Jane’s appreciation that Georgiana would consider Jane’s needs before her own. A fresh tray of tea and cakes was brought out, and this time, the ladies partook of the fare while they awaited news of the child. The mood was light—a stark contrast to the earlier heavy air of the room.

After a time, Gran requested Georgiana play, and she was happy to oblige the lady. She fingered through the music book near the instrument, but instead chose to play a piece from memory, a long-time favourite.

Before she could sit at the pianoforte, Amelia stood. “I should return home to Audley Place. Janey could labour for hours yet, and I am exhausted.” Amelia was with child, though not nearly as far along as Jane. They had been awake since early in the morning. Her fatigue was understandable.

“Of course, dearest,” said Gran. “We shall send word when the babe comes.”

Amelia departed, and Georgiana placed her fingers upon the keys, closed her eyes, and soon lost herself in the melody of the sonata. Since the piece was one she knew from memory, she had no need to see the keyboard but for a few times to ensure she had stretched her hand enough to reach the next keys, even though she was certain she could have done so without the reassurance. On one of those occasions, she glanced up. Lord Charles stood just outside the door, his gaze trained upon her. When their gazes met, a frisson of something travelled through her, and she was forced to return her focus to the music lest she fumble and give away Lord Charles’s presence. He surely did not wish for Gran and Lizzy to know he was there.

At the end of the first movement, Lizzy sighed. “That was lovely, Georgiana. I believe you favour that piece, do you not? I hear it often.”

“I do. It soothes me. With Jane’s trials this past week, I thought a calming melody might be just the thing.” She peered at the door, but Lord Charles was no longer to be seen. If he was nearby, he remained out of sight.

“Well done,” said Gran. “I do wish Janey could hear it, but I am certain the mistress’s suite is too far from the music room for her to partake of Georgiana’s beautiful performance.”

“How long do you think the babe will take to come?” Lizzy always seemed to have her children during the night, so Georgiana had no idea how long a babe took to be born.

“Her pains were rather steady when we left,” said Lizzy. “I would not think it too long. We each walked with her, and her husband was to walk with her as well when he returned.”

Gran swallowed a sip of tea. “I do believe it will be rather quick. Why do you not play the next movement? I daresay it does help to pass the time.”

Georgiana played the next two movements before the housekeeper appeared in the doorway. “I beg your pardon, but His Grace is beside himself. We cannot find a midwife to attend the duchess, so he is begging for anyone who has had childbirth experience.”

The housekeeper had barely begun to speak when Gran rose and motioned to Lizzy. “We shall go directly.”

“Georgiana?”

“Go, Lizzy. I shall be well. I have a pianoforte to play and can always find the library should I wish to read.”

No sooner had they departed than she stood and fingered through the music. She was really not of a mind to play, so she stepped from the room as the butler passed. He was rather young but bowed with a genial curve to his lips when she found herself face to face with him.

“May I be of aid, Miss?”

“Yes, thank you. Pray, which way is the library?”

He gestured for her to join him, and he walked her down the corridor then pointed to a door not far from them. “Do you require tea or refreshment? I am certain Mrs. Fletcher would be happy to send more should you wish it.”

“No, I am well. Thank you again.”

With a bow, he departed as she entered the grand room. For a moment, she stood, taking in her surroundings. Books lined every wall and stretched to the ceiling, a tall sliding ladder in the middle to help those who wished to obtain a tome on one of the highest shelves. The scent of the pages overpowered her. The library of any house always reminded her of Fitzwilliam. It was his favourite room in their homes, so he was oft times to be found amongst the books—as was their father. Lizzy loved to join her husband and loved the library almost as much as Georgiana and her brother.

She trailed her fingers along the spines while she read the titles. Once or twice, she pulled a copy from the stacks and perused the pages before placing it back amongst its brethren and moving further down the wall.

At the corner, she turned to continue but stopped with a gasp at Lord Charles seated in a nearby chair. “Forgive me. I did not mean to disturb you.” She could have covered her face at her stupidity. He could not hear her apologies. She was an addlepate! Yet the sight of him also did things to her—made her heart squeeze and a current travel through her. She was at a loss at how to behave around him.

Lord Charles stood and bowed. He did not speak but shifted on his feet before he clasped his hands behind his back.

She glanced about them. A desk with some paper and a pen was to the opposite side of the room, so she hastened over and wrote what she had said on the paper, followed by, “I know you can speak. Why do you not?” Yes, the question was bold, but she would not ridicule him if that is what he feared.

When she turned, he was not far behind her. He frowned when he took the paper and glanced upon its contents. His lips pressed in a tight line before he moved to the desk and picked up the pen.

“My voice is not what it was. I prefer not to speak.”

“I care not if your voice is different. Why should that make one whit of difference?” she wrote.

He shrugged with a sigh and made to return to his chair, but she grabbed him by the arm. “Wait!” She flinched back when he turned, not that she feared him. No, she more feared his response to her touching his arm. What would he think of her?

“Will you teach me how to speak to you?” she wrote on the paper.

His eyebrows lifted when he read it, then he looked at her a moment before nodding. A portable writing desk sat to one side, and he placed the ink and paper upon it before moving back to the chairs near the fire. She sat in a chair across from him, and he handed her the paper.

“What would you like to learn?”

“How does someone say your name?”

For the next hour, he taught her bits of his language. For particularly tricky signs, he would move her fingers into the correct positions. The first time, she gasped at the contact of his bare flesh to hers. What had been that jolt that had coursed through her? His gaze had caught hers, but he said nothing of it. He could not hear her swift inhale of breath, but had he somehow understood what had happened?

“Oh, Georgiana! Jane gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl,” cried Lizzy. “The poor dear is exhausted but radiant. I cannot wait to discover what they name her.”

Georgiana hopped up from her chair and stepped around. From the doorway, Lizzy would not readily see Lord Charles should he not wish it.

Lizzy waved for Georgiana to follow. “Come. I should be needed at home for Sophie soon, and I am certain all in this house will sleep for the next week. They are all haggard from searching for Jane.”

“Of course,” she said as Lizzy turned and quit the room.

Georgiana peeked around the wall and held up a hand to say goodbye to Lord Charles, who did the same in return. “Thank you.” She spoke while she said the words with her hands. The duke’s brother gave a tight smile. What she would not give to see a true smile grace his countenance! How long had it been since he had been truly happy? The question made her heart hurt.

[1] Frost Fair occurred the 1^st -4^th of February 1814. https://premium.weatherweb.net/weather-in-history-1800-to-1849-ad/

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