A Midsummer Christmas

Part 21

"And of course, when one is in Bath..."

Richard's smile remained rigidly in place and he took care to react as if he were listening adroitly to every word Harriet Arnold said. In truth, he did not even hear half of them, for his attention was fixed on Georgiana.

At least one of us is enjoying their first dance, he thought, moving through his steps like some kind of automaton and watching as Georgiana laughed and spun and kept pace with the idiotic Robert Ingraham. Richard scowled, then sought to rearrange his features lest Harriet catch sight of them and enquire as to his mood. You wished for this, he reminded himself. Or, if not wished for, then at least anticipated it. How can you be jealous that Georgiana has found happiness with a man of God, a friend and a neighbour? It is everything she longs for. And yet he could not help but think his dear cousin deserved far better than the dull curate.

Like who? His thoughts continued to plague him. You? It was too idiotic a notion to entertain. He had no right to think of Georgiana as anything other than his cousin and friend - and until recently he had been sure that was all she was to him. Why was it that now scarcely an hour passed that she was not at the top of his mind?

"I must say it is rather unusual seeing Pemberley's ballroom decorated for Christmas on a warm day like this!" Harriet continued, giggling loudly as their dance steps brought her and Richard closer once more.

"It is certainly a change from my last Christmas," Richard agreed, thinking back to that cold, lonely December he had spent under canvas. "I fear it is on my account that Mrs Darcy had this splendid idea, to begin with," he said, outlining a little of his past for Harriet's benefit. Her eyes widened as she fixed them on him and he realised that he had made himself an object of fascination to her quite without meaning to.

"On the whole, I much prefer this way of celebrating," he said, swiftly hoping to be given an excuse to cease speaking but the dance would not part them again for some time yet. "And I shall look forward to doing it all again in December."

"Will you remain so long in Derbyshire?" Harriet asked, with exaggerated innocence. "Then I shall think it a blessing that Papa has chosen to keep us here, rather than allowing us to go to Bath! We shall be regular visitors, for you must come and dine with us at Brook House."

"You are very kind," Richard said, stiffly. He wondered why it was that Harriet's immediate and evident interest in him was so uncomfortable. Was she not the very type of young lady he had been considering courting? Pretty, accomplished, amiable...and not Georgiana. This was the beginning and end of her flaws, and he could not look past the fact. I do not want any amiable young lady. I do not even wish to maintain the freedom of bachelorhood! If I cannot marry Georgiana, I am quite certain my life shall be a misery from here on out!

The thought had struck him as sternly as if it had been a blow, and he stopped moving altogether, causing a minor collision with another pair of dancers before he managed to right himself and continue. By some miracle, he managed to endure until the dance reached its conclusion, but after the briefest of bows he left the floor, marching towards the door and out of the ballroom altogether.

It was still light outside and the weather was warm enough to necessitate keeping several of Pemberley's doors open. Most were blocked by various groups of guests taking advantage of the pleasant breeze, but Richard was more familiar with Pemberley than most. His feet steered him without need of him thinking and he traced a circuitous route that led through a small side-room and out of a door that was scarcely more than a window, and certainly a lot lower and smaller to squeeze through now than it had been when he was a boy.

He emerged into a crowd of bushes, growing denser in the intervening years and after some scrambling managed to come to his feet. He straightened his clothing and brushed himself down, praying he would bring no signs of his adventure back with him when he returned to the ballroom.

"I suppose I must return," he murmured aloud, hearing the faint sounds of laughter and conversation from other guests and turning on his heel to walk abruptly in the opposite direction. He would go back, and soon before he was missed. But he would take a moment before that to reflect on the revelation he could no longer deny.

I love Georgiana! I do! I love her! It was a mystery to him that he had not truly known it before now, except he fancied some part of him had. When she eloped with George Wickham he had flown to Darcy's aid and they had worked between them to liberate her. It had been his opinion then and since that Darcy had been too lenient on Wickham for his part in the affair. Darcy's concern had been all for his sister and keeping matters as quiet as possible, where Richard had wanted blood. He had had no claim to it then and had deferred to Darcy as Georgiana's brother to make the best decisions on their course of action. Now, Richard wondered if it was more than mere cousinly concern that had powered his desire for vengeance. I would have acted just the same had the cousin at risk been Anne, he had told himself at the time, and whenever he considered the matter since. Now, he was forced to acknowledge he had been lying to himself. Firstly, it was unlikely that Anne should ever have suffered such a fate, for Lady Catherine de Bourgh guarded her daughter jealously. Had the worst happened, though, Richard would have lent any assistance necessary to rescue his cousin. But would he have cared so deeply for Anne as he had for Georgiana?

His head began to ache and he massaged an eyebrow, thinking that the very last thing he wished to do now was to return to a crowded ballroom, to dance and make conversation and be generally agreeable to a room filled with strangers. And yet, that was the very room that Georgiana was in. His heart quickened within him. I will invite her to dance, he thought. And perhaps, to talk. I need not tell her of my feelings until I have a chance to gauge hers. I will not pressure her into hearing me if she does not care to. He winced, anticipating the painful recovery he would face if his worst fears were realised and he was forced to admit Georgiana not only did not care for him but had already lost her heart to another. At least Robert Ingraham is not George Wickham. And if a future with him will make her happy, I will support it.

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam had faced many battles in his life and had grown inured to nerves. He rarely felt them, or if he did he rarely acknowledged them. Yet to turn around and retrace his steps towards the Pemberley ballroom was an exercise in courage. It is just a ballroom, he told himself, although the words offered little comfort. In that ballroom, he would find Georgiana and maybe his future happiness...or disappointment. He drew a breath, prepared for either eventuality and stepped back inside to discover his fate.