Page 15 of The Colonel's Ungovernable Governess
“Why did you not say so?” Darcy questioned. “I would be proud to advance you the funds or, better yet, present them to you as a wedding gift or a ‘Hell no, I will not marry the chit!’ gift. Whichever you choose. “
“I did not wish to ask you for more assistance,” Edward admitted, “for that is two commissions in less than a year.”
“However, if you accept the funds from me, there will be no means for Matlock to use the purchase as a means to force you into a marriage to which you object.”
“I will consider your offer,” Edward said as the coach rolled to a halt before his brother’s estate. “And thank you, Darcy. A man could not ask for a better friend than you.”
“Good day, Colonel. Mr. Darcy,” the butler greeted them as they stepped down. “I pray you had a pleasant journey.” Edward glanced to the manor house and noted several small repairs which should be addressed.
“Darcy?” he asked without saying the words.
“I see them also,” his cousin assured. “We will examine them more closely after we greet our families.”
Edward nodded his agreement, but, privately, he was quite proud of the fact his instincts regarding the manor house had not failed him.
Mrs. Darcy came galloping out the door to catch her husband’s hand. “Come, William,” she urged, pulling him along behind her. “You, too, Colonel,” she called.
“What is the disaster?” he asked in amusement.
“No disaster!” she chirped happily. “Just Bennet Darcy’s first steps.”
Darcy pulled up to stop her progress. “Are you confident?”
The woman tugged on her husband’s hand again. “Do you wish to miss this moment by arguing, Mr. Darcy?”
A heartbeat passed before Darcy took the lead. “Where to?” he demanded of his wife who now double stepped to keep up with Darcy’s long strides.
Edward permitted them their special moment, pausing long enough to provide the butler orders regarding rooms and learning Mrs. Darcy had already addressed the need for quarters for both of them. Evidently, Darcy had sent word of their travel plans.
When he entered the house, he paused at the door to a nearby sitting room to take in the scene. Elizabeth Darcy sat on the floor some ten feet away from Darcy. She kept her arms out before her and very stiff to permit the child to pull himself upward and stand. The boy, who was Darcy remade in looks, at least, looked about tentatively to the others sitting in a loose circle in quiet anticipation.
“Come to me, my boy,” Darcy coaxed. Edward’s cousin stretched out his arms to the child.
“Go to your papa, Bennet,” Elizabeth Darcy encouraged. She turned the child slightly so the boy would have a straighter line to reach Darcy. With a grin of pure delight, the child gurgled the beginnings of what would someday be the word “Papa,” both syllables now closer to together to distinguish the actual word, which was quickly followed by several lunging steps, quick stepping his way—knees high—to his father.
Darcy caught the boy before Bennet fell, scooping the child into his embrace. The twins, Elizabeth’s maid, and Elizabeth all applauded. Despite being a bit sad at not knowing the pure elation showing on his cousin’s countenance, Edward was happy for Darcy, while wondering if he too would ever know such contentment.
“Put down that silly sword and come join us, Colonel,” his cousin instructed. “Permit my son to greet his godfather.”
Edward thought to protest, but Victoria scrambled to her feet to catch his hand. “Come sit by me, Uncle Edward.” He permitted the child to tug him towards the circle, pausing only long enough to place his sword on a nearby table.
He was on the floor and adjusting his seat and crossing his legs when another female voice said, “Hopefully, I am not too late for the fun.” She squeezed in between him and Lord Vincent. Edward was about to warn her that the boy was particular about who sat beside him. Yet, to Edward’s surprise, the child reached up to brace the woman’s descent to the floor. Edward belatedly realized it should have been him who extended his hand.
“Go to your godfather,” Darcy instructed his son and turned the boy in Edward’s direction.
Edward quickly removed his gloves and extended his arms to the child. “Come along, Bennet. I have you,” he coaxed.
The boy grinned at him and began his lunging style, half run and half walk, all knees passage. Unfortunately, Edward was further away from Darcy than had been the distance between his cousin and Mrs. Darcy. The first seven or so steps were pure delight, especially for the child, but his momentum caused Bennet to stumble and to pitch forward. Edward rose up to reach Bennet Darcy just as the child lost his battle with gravity. He caught the child’s hand just as the unfamiliar woman wrapped her hands about Bennet’s middle. Between them, they managed to maneuver the boy into Edward’s loose embrace. “Very good,” Edward announced, lifting Bennet higher to place a kiss on the child’s forehead before turning him around in his arms.
Surprisingly, the boy leaned towards the lady, who kissed him, much in the same manner as had he, and, briefly, the idea their kisses had intermingled crossed Edward’s mind. It was long enough for Darcy to remind Edward to send the child back to him. He assisted the child to a standing, though somewhat wobbly, stance, before coaxing the child’s return to his father. “Go to your papa, boy.”
Darcy scooted forward so Bennet’s journey would be shorter. “Come along, Bennet,” his cousin ordered in a voice expressing Darcy’s pride in this moment.
Before Edward could form an opinion regarding the importance of such life lessons, the lady leaned closer to say in a whisper, “We all have a bet on whether Mr. Darcy will know happy tears.” The scent of roses wafted off her skin and filled Edward’s lungs with something he could not name, but very much wished to know again.
Edward’s gaze traveled from his cousin’s teary-eyed bliss to the woman close enough for them to share a breath. She was definitely a beauty—fine of countenance, enough so she could stir the soul of the devil himself. He was no devil nor was he a saint. She was too young for him, but a man could still enjoy a pretty face, no matter the circumstances. He was sorry to acknowledge that the girl’s promise of womanhood would never be known by him, assuming she might consider him acceptable. Which he seriously doubted. More importantly, he could not consider this obvious “friend” of Mrs. Darcy, for he was, unfortunately, engaged elsewhere.
Chapter Seven
