Chapter 12

Georgiana sat at her dressing table, absently staring into the mirror before her. She was looking forward to the house party and the arrival of their final houseguests. Relatives of Mary's father were due to arrive that afternoon. Georgiana was thankful that Mary would have more houseguests that would be supportive of her. She still found herself blushing as she thought about the treatment of Mary at the hands of her cousins. Seeing Mary's expectant demeanor deflate following her harsh reception was painful to Georgiana; she felt as if the slight were against herself. Despite their argument a few days ago and Georgiana's heartache over the loss of Fitzwilliam, she found herself wanting to comfort Mary. She had thought about going to her room the night before to offer her apologies, but Georgiana could not bring herself to leave her rooms.

While Georgiana did not feel that she could bring herself to talk to Mary directly, she did feel that she could be supportive of Mary and perhaps shield her from some of the Viscountess and Lady Letitia's rudeness. She suspected that Lady Letitia's behavior went beyond her natural snobbery. To act in such a manner towards the ward of one's host was a show of disrespect. Georgiana was well aware of Lady Letitia's designs on Richard; subtlety was not a concept that Lady Letitia could grasp. Women like Lady Letitia felt that the best way to raise their own prospects with gentlemen of quality was to insult other women. Unfortunately for them, this tactic often had the adverse effect of driving away their intended target. Georgiana wondered how Lady Letitia had so quickly determined that Mary was competition.

Lady Letitia had always been cordial to Georgiana, sometimes overly so. Perhaps there was some artifice and calculation behind that. Georgiana had plenty of experience dealing with mercenary women using similar devices to win her brother's affections. She was suddenly struck by the realization that while Lady Letitia had instantly perceived Mary as a threat to her plans, the lady had never appeared to fear such competition from her. Georgiana wondered at this disparity in treatment. While one could argue that one way to curry the favor of a gentleman would be to be kind and solicitous to their ward, it would also be counterproductive to heap effusive praise on another woman of marriageable age in that gentleman's presence.

Perhaps Lady Letitia had never viewed her as competition for Colonel Fitzwilliam's affections because she had not truly been competition. Nothing in her behavior towards Colonel Fitzwilliam would suggest more than a sisterly affection for an older cousin. Likewise, nothing in his attentions towards her would suggest more than a brotherly affection for a much younger cousin and ward. For a woman as observant as Lady Letitia, at least when it came to the subject of Fitzwilliam, it would be readily apparent that the gentleman held a regard for Mary that went beyond the platonic or filial. Georgiana was ever mindful of the shared looks and covert glances that passed between Fitzwilliam and Mary and she did not doubt that Lady Letitia had observed them as well.

Had Georgiana come to this conclusion a few weeks prior, the mortification that she felt when she discovered Mary and Fitzwilliam's relationship would have been reduced. While this realization caused Georgiana some pain, she found that it helped to alleviate some of the residual animosity that she felt towards Mary. Georgiana had blamed her friend or the loss of Fitzwilliam's affections. However, as his affections had only been of the brotherly variety, and she was confident that those sentiments remained, Georgiana began to see the uselessness of harboring any ill will towards her friend. Added to this was Georgiana's natural propensity to seek peace. It had been quite a trial to maintain a frosty attitude toward Mary. Forgiveness, or rather seeking forgiveness as there was little for which Mary had to repent, was much less exhausting than holding onto anger and hurt. Georgiana had missed her conversations with her friend and their time spent in companionable activity. She was eager to renew those bonds of friendship, but she was unsure of what words to say to heal the breach between them.

Giving herself one last look in the mirror, Georgiana rose from her vanity and made her way down to the breakfast room. Until she found the proper words and the courage to say them, she was resolved to act as the loyal friend that Mary needed.

Mary made her way to the nursery for her daily appointment with Sir Little Bits. Behind her back she held a surprise for her first and most loyal. Upon entering the nursery, Mary was surprised to discover that her audience had grown. Ronald stood upon her entrance, bowing slightly at the waist in greeting.

"Good morning, Miss Farthington," the young boy her greeted formally. "Would it be acceptable for me to join William for the story?"

Mary smiled and laughed good-naturedly at the request. "Why of course. However, I must insist that you call me Mary."

"No," William protested as he ran over to greet her. "You must call her Princess Mary because she is a princess."

"No she isn't," Ronald protested. "I will do no such thing."

"She is a princess and if you want to hear her stories you shall call her by her proper title!" William crossed his arms and glared at his cousin. He took his job as a knight very seriously.

"You don't have to call me princess," Mary soothed as she took a seat on the settee. "William and I simply like to play pretend. It is great fun. I am his Princess and he is a knight in my court."

"Yes, you must see my armor, Ronald. I have a sword and everything. Uncle Richard is also a knight. Princess Mary named me Sir Little Bits," William piped up excitedly. He was anxious to have his older cousin take part in his games.

"Does Uncle Richard have a knight's name as well?" Ronald asked, suddenly more interested in joining the fun knowing that his uncle also took part.

"Yes, he does," Mary replied, thinking quickly of a suitable name. "He is called Sir Gallant."

"Does my lady have need of me?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked as he stepped into the room. He had been standing at the door for quite sometime watching the scene with amusement.

Mary turned towards the Colonel, her face wreathed in a broad smile. "Yes, Sir Gallant. I bid you to come attend to the telling of the tales with Sir Little Bits and Ronald."

"Princess, why can't I have a proper name like Sir Little Bits and Sir Gallant?" Ronald pouted, abandoning his previous position in order to emulate his uncle.

"Do you wish to join my court, Ronald?" Mary asked, doing her best to suppress a smile.

The boy nodded his head eagerly. William clapped in triumph and ran to retrieve his sword from the chest where he kept his toys.

"If he is to be knighted, you will need this Princess," William stated very seriously as he handed Mary his small wooden sword."

"You are quite right, Sir Little Bits," Fitzwilliam replied. "It is good that you are attentive to knightly protocol."

Mary laughed lightly as she took the sword from William. She bid Ronald to kneel before her.

"Do you, Ronald Fitzwilliam, promise to uphold the office of knight, serving your Princess and protecting the kingdom from all manner of fell beast and Viking raiders?"

"Vikings?" Fitzwilliam whispered to Mary.

"Yes, Vikings are an ever present threat to my kingdom, Sir Gallant. Do not interrupt," Mary whispered in return.

"I promise, Princess Mary."

"Very well. Then I dub thee Sir Kelvin the Red."

Mary tapped Sir Kelvin on each of his shoulders with the blade of the sword before commanding him to rise. Sir Little Bits clapped and shouted in appreciation.

"Now, Sir Kelvin, are you ready for a story?"

At the boy's eager nod, Mary turned to retrieve the presents that she had made Sir Little Bits from underneath the pillow where she had hidden them.

"You are in luck, Sir Kelvin, as today's story comes with a special surprise."

Mary brought out two cloth puppets sewn onto wooden spoons. The spoons she had acquired from the kitchens as castoffs and the puppets she had sewn and stitched herself. The puppets were of a handsome prince and a fearsome red dragon.

William squealed in delight, jumping from his seat to grasp the puppet of the dragon.

"Princess Mary, are these for me?"

"Yes, I made them special for you, Sir Little Bits. I thought they would make our stories more fun. You can have the dragon and Sir Kelvin can play with the prince."

Ronald took the prince puppet from Mary, a smile lighting up his face as he thanked her. Forgetting his previous reluctance, Ronald dashed off to join William in his play.

"Is there no present for me, Princess?" Fitzwilliam asked in a low voice so as not to be overheard by the boys or the nursery maid.

"I did not know that you enjoyed playing with puppets, Colonel Fitzwilliam," Mary replied with a grin, matching his tone.

"Is it Colonel now?" Fitzwilliam asked, his smile fading.

"Ah, you are right. Forgive me Sir Gallant," Mary smirked up at him as Fitzwilliam joined her on the settee.

Fitzwilliam grinned. "I suppose that shall do. When did you come up with that name for me, Princess?"

"I admit that I just thought of it today in order to convince Sir Kelvin to join my court," Mary blushed slightly as her brown eyes met his. "However, I think the name suits you well."

"Yes," Fitzwilliam agreed as he pulled a smug face. "I have been told by some that I do look quite dashing in my red dress uniform."

Mary laughed. "While I do agree that you are handsome both in and out of uniform…"

"Madam!" Fitzwilliam interrupted with mock alarm.

"Oh, you teasing man! You know my meaning," Mary replied, hitting Fitzwilliam lightly on the arm. "I was going to say that you are chivalrous, noble and valiant."

Fitzwilliam considered these descriptions for a moment, before leaning over to whisper huskily in her ear.

"Is not gallant another word for paramour, Princess?"

Mary swallowed thickly before nervously calling Ronald and William over for their story. Fitzwilliam chastised himself for discomfiting her, but he could only feel a modicum of contrition as he observed the becoming red flush that accented her brown cheeks. Twelfth Night could not come soon enough.

With the afternoon came the remaining houseguests for the Twelfth Night house party. Mary was especially excited to see Mr. Brambles again and to meet her cousins Mr. and Mrs. Peterson. Although she had never met them, Mary was confident that she would soon grow to esteem them both. From Mrs. Peterson's letters, Mary already knew that her father's cousin was a warm and generous woman with a good heart, although perhaps a bit prone to gossip. Her letter to Mary had been filled with warm greetings and her expectations for a lovely summer spent together in Brighton. However, she had also included a few tidbits about the personal lives of their Brighton neighbors. Mary already knew that a Mr. Gregory was exceedingly fond of wine, so much so that at a ball they all attended last summer, he had managed to fall asleep in the middle of a set. Mary also knew that Mrs. Peterson's best friend Mrs. Darmont was now forced to wear wooden dentures as the last of her teeth had fallen out due to her addiction to drinking tea that Mrs. Peterson swore was two parts sugar to one part tea and her aversion to daily teeth cleanings.

"Mr. Brambles, Mr. Derek Peterson and Mrs. Beatrice Peterson," the footman announced the newcomers to the Darcy and Fitzwilliam family assembled in the sitting room.

"Welcome back to Pemberley, Mr. Brambles," Darcy stepped forward to greet him, grasping the elder gentleman's arm firmly.

"It is good to see you all again," Mr. Brambles replied warmly. "And how are you my dear?"

"Very well, Mr. Brambles," Mary replied as she stepped forward to give her friend a warm hug.

Mr. Brambles laughed. "Good, good. You look very well, my dear. Let me introduce my friends and your cousins. Miss. Farthington, may I present Mrs. Peterson and her son Mr. Derek Peterson."

Mrs. Peterson was a short round woman of fifty some years with curly brown hair and kind grey eyes. Her dress was fashionable and well made, although not as ostentatious as that of Lady Letitia.

"Oh, it is lovely to finally meet you, dear," the woman exclaimed before engulfing Mary in a warm embrace, which was eagerly returned.

"It is lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Peterson. I confess that I am quite anxious to know more of my father's family."

"We are your family too, dear. And I will not hear of you calling me Mrs. Peterson. You must address me as Beatrice."

Mary readily agreed and bid Beatrice to call her Mary. This won her another warm hug.

Mary had to stifle a gasp when meeting Derek Peterson. The young man of three and thirty was almost the splitting image of her father when Lord Farthington was a young man. He shared her father's bright green eyes and wavy blond hair as well as his tall broad shouldered frame.

Mr. Peterson was less intimate but no less warm in his greeting.

"Your father has told us so much about you, Mary, that I feel that I have known you these last nineteen years," the older man stated as he held her hand in both of his and smiled down at her gently. "I am sure that we shall get along famously."

Mr. Darcy completed the introductions of his family to Mary's relations. Mary noted with some distaste the indifferent greeting that the Viscountess and Lady Letitia offered. As soon as the introductions were complete, the ladies excused themselves begging the need to rest before dinner. The Viscount, however, was much more affable in his greetings to those assembled and expressed his desire to engage in a game of billiards with Mr. Peterson after he rested from his journey. Fitzwilliam was just as cordial in his greeting as Mary expected. He decided to join his brother and Derek in the promised billiards match and cajoled Darcy into joining in as well. He even managed to make Beatrice blush prettily with a well-placed compliment.

"Oh, you young people," Beatrice exclaimed as she waved away the compliment on her appearance.

Mary noted with some degree of surprise the becoming blush that spread over Georgiana's features when she was introduced to Derek Peterson. For his part, the gentleman seemed to linger a bit longer than was proper over the lady's hand. Mary's eyes quickly found Elizabeth's, whose look of intrigue matched her own.

"Let me show you all to your rooms. I am sure you are anxious to rest and refresh yourselves. If you like, I could have tea brought up to you. However, I thought that you might like to have a light repast in the blue sitting room with Mary, Georgiana and myself when you are ready."

The party readily agreed to those arrangements and Mary thanked Elizabeth for her thoughtfulness. She was very eager to get to know her relations better.
Elizabeth bid the Petersons and Mr. Brambles to follow her to be shown to their rooms.
Mr. Brambles, however, declined and requested a private word with Mr. Darcy on matters of business. Elizabeth consented to the scheme and informed him that she had placed him in the rooms he had occupied when he last stayed with them.

Mary watched the two men exit to make their way to Mr. Darcy's study with some concern. However, she was soon distracted by Georgiana's approach.

"The Petersons are lovely people. I look forward to knowing them better. You must be pleased to meet your relations, Mary."

"I admit that I am beyond pleased," she replied as she turned towards her friend. "Did you not think Derek to be quite handsome?"

Mary smiled knowingly at her friend's becoming blush. "I had not noticed. But, now that you mention it, he is quite well favored."

"Hmmm," Mary replied. "I believe he found you to be quite well favored, as well."

Georgiana looked as if she would reply with some retort before thinking better of it. "Do you think so?"

Mary smiled even wider. "Well, as I have only known the gentleman for five minutes, I cannot speak with confidence as to what his feelings may be," Mary paused and made note of the slight deflation of Georgiana's posture. "However, he did appear to be very reluctant to let your hand go."

Georgiana smiled at this, regaining some of her previous buoyancy.

"Now, you have not told me what you are planning to wear to the ball." Mary skillfully redirected the conversation as she took her friend by the arm and led her up the stairs to the family wing. Mary was very happy to meet her relations but even more pleased to have the rift between herself and Georgiana begin to heal.