one craving all men suffer, but do not recognize so until they have it."
She could see Mary absorbed her words and began thinking of ways to implement her advice. Leaving the young girl a little privacy to her life, she changed the subject. "Have you heard from Lizzie?"
"Lydia is being a complete pill!" Mary gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "Forgive me, but her behavior vexes Lizzie to no end and she holds no remorse so that I fear she is trying everyone's patience. Oh, but Mr. Darcy has taught Lizzie how to ride. Astride!"
Madeline Gardiner coughed as she stifled a laugh at Mary's choice to omit the word horse. "I'm sure the horse back riding is giving them plenty of reason to quit the house with Lydia inside."
Calmer, Mary realized she was suddenly quite hungry as she had arrived at her aunt's home with her stomach in knots. She hungrily devoured a biscuit before explaining. "Yes, they've ridden to their neighbor, Mr. Graham Hamilton, and she wishes me to find father's book on sheep." Mary wrinkled her nose in an expression reminiscent of her older sister. "Something about Mr. Darcy believes her ignorant on the subject of sheep and knowing Lizzie, she won't tolerate any lack of knowledge on her part."
"I believe your uncle may help you locate the tome in your father's collection in his study." Mary requested with a gesture if she might be excused and her aunt nodded.
As soon as Mary quit the room, Madeline Gardiner winced in pain as the little one growing within moved too high in her middle. Pressing firmly with both hands, it took a moment, but eventually the babe acquiesced to his mother's demands. "Stubborn already, Lord help me." She knew it would not be too much longer now and left to find Cook to add more to the evening's meal in case Mary wished to stay.
❂❂❂
Chapter Six
Door slams and raised, shrill voices punctuated Fitzwilliam Darcy's afternoon, every afternoon. He continued to scratch at his desk when a few moments later, his lovely wife appeared in his doorway, breathless and with a few strands of hair out of place.
"Fitzwilliam, I am at my wits' end with that girl. I try to placate her, try to cheer her, and each attempt devolves into her blaming me for her every misfortune!"
Elizabeth Darcy entered the study and collapsed into the sofa in a most unladylike manner. Darcy looked her over out of the corner of his eye, aroused by the site of her flushed appearance, yet equally sympathetic to her plight. After all, it was his own plight as well.
"Perhaps we ought to pack our trunks and leave her in Scotland to deliver the babe? I do not wish for Miss Lydia's childish manners to further injure my family." His eyes darkened as he imagined the young woman, screaming in pain and alone, feeling in his heart it was not an action he could take, no matter how trying her behavior had become.
Elizabeth's mouth dropped in horror. "I could never leave her! She is a spoiled brat, but she does not deserve to be abandoned." She inspected a loose thread in her skirt, making a mental note to show the flaw to Becky. The tartan fabric was one of her favorite frocks and one she intended to keep as a reminder of the happiness she had managed on her honeymoon.
Sighing, she began to explain her main dilemma. "I only wish I were not alone to take the brunt of Lydia's anger. I never was her favorite and I feel so helplessly miserable in failing to offer her the empathy she needs." Elizabeth shook her head and rose from the sofa, walking over to her little desk they fashioned next to his to peruse her correspondence. An invitation to Mr. Graham Hamilton's Blaylock House to dine in a fortnight caught her attention and she carefully fingered the rough edge.
She glanced at her husband, jubilant he had sorted the piece of mail to her domain, a small but lovely reminder as his wife, it was for her to set their social calendar. She was about to ask him if he wished to attend, but stopped herself when she saw
She could see Mary absorbed her words and began thinking of ways to implement her advice. Leaving the young girl a little privacy to her life, she changed the subject. "Have you heard from Lizzie?"
"Lydia is being a complete pill!" Mary gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "Forgive me, but her behavior vexes Lizzie to no end and she holds no remorse so that I fear she is trying everyone's patience. Oh, but Mr. Darcy has taught Lizzie how to ride. Astride!"
Madeline Gardiner coughed as she stifled a laugh at Mary's choice to omit the word horse. "I'm sure the horse back riding is giving them plenty of reason to quit the house with Lydia inside."
Calmer, Mary realized she was suddenly quite hungry as she had arrived at her aunt's home with her stomach in knots. She hungrily devoured a biscuit before explaining. "Yes, they've ridden to their neighbor, Mr. Graham Hamilton, and she wishes me to find father's book on sheep." Mary wrinkled her nose in an expression reminiscent of her older sister. "Something about Mr. Darcy believes her ignorant on the subject of sheep and knowing Lizzie, she won't tolerate any lack of knowledge on her part."
"I believe your uncle may help you locate the tome in your father's collection in his study." Mary requested with a gesture if she might be excused and her aunt nodded.
As soon as Mary quit the room, Madeline Gardiner winced in pain as the little one growing within moved too high in her middle. Pressing firmly with both hands, it took a moment, but eventually the babe acquiesced to his mother's demands. "Stubborn already, Lord help me." She knew it would not be too much longer now and left to find Cook to add more to the evening's meal in case Mary wished to stay.
❂❂❂
Chapter Six
Door slams and raised, shrill voices punctuated Fitzwilliam Darcy's afternoon, every afternoon. He continued to scratch at his desk when a few moments later, his lovely wife appeared in his doorway, breathless and with a few strands of hair out of place.
"Fitzwilliam, I am at my wits' end with that girl. I try to placate her, try to cheer her, and each attempt devolves into her blaming me for her every misfortune!"
Elizabeth Darcy entered the study and collapsed into the sofa in a most unladylike manner. Darcy looked her over out of the corner of his eye, aroused by the site of her flushed appearance, yet equally sympathetic to her plight. After all, it was his own plight as well.
"Perhaps we ought to pack our trunks and leave her in Scotland to deliver the babe? I do not wish for Miss Lydia's childish manners to further injure my family." His eyes darkened as he imagined the young woman, screaming in pain and alone, feeling in his heart it was not an action he could take, no matter how trying her behavior had become.
Elizabeth's mouth dropped in horror. "I could never leave her! She is a spoiled brat, but she does not deserve to be abandoned." She inspected a loose thread in her skirt, making a mental note to show the flaw to Becky. The tartan fabric was one of her favorite frocks and one she intended to keep as a reminder of the happiness she had managed on her honeymoon.
Sighing, she began to explain her main dilemma. "I only wish I were not alone to take the brunt of Lydia's anger. I never was her favorite and I feel so helplessly miserable in failing to offer her the empathy she needs." Elizabeth shook her head and rose from the sofa, walking over to her little desk they fashioned next to his to peruse her correspondence. An invitation to Mr. Graham Hamilton's Blaylock House to dine in a fortnight caught her attention and she carefully fingered the rough edge.
She glanced at her husband, jubilant he had sorted the piece of mail to her domain, a small but lovely reminder as his wife, it was for her to set their social calendar. She was about to ask him if he wished to attend, but stopped herself when she saw
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