Darcy rushed over to the babe Mrs. Bamber thrust into his arms. “What is my little girl upset about?” he cooed, settling his anxious charge against his shoulder and rocking back and forth until he felt her body relax.
Mrs. Bamber rubbed her eyes, her hair frazzled around her plump, ruddy face. “I am sorry, Mr. Darcy. I could not calm her no matter what I did. She was determined to have you.”
Pulling a chair closer to the fire with his free hand, Darcy said, “You know I will always come when Anne needs me. Pray rest, Mrs. Bamber, and tell me why she is out of sorts. She is not ill, I hope?” Darcy’s hand spread over Anne’s back protectively, his stomach twisting.
With a sigh, Mrs. Bamber looked up at him. “She is a healthy child if ever I saw one, Mr. Darcy. That is not the problem.”
“What is it, then?” he pressed.
Mrs. Bamber looked at Mrs. Reynolds, only continuing when the housekeeper nodded. “You will not approve of what I must suggest.”
“Say it all the same. There is nothing I will not do to protect my sister’s child.”
Mrs. Bamber took a deep breath. “She needs to be around other people. She needs to leave this house — as do you, if I may be so bold.” She gestured toward the closed curtains. “I dare not show Baby Anne the beauty of her own surroundings lest she is discovered. It is a pity.”
She was right, of course, but what she suggested was impossible.
Mrs. Reynolds moved closer to the nurse, stopping once she stood in line with Mrs. Bamber’s chair and giving Darcy the impression that he was in a battle where he was outnumbered. She said, “We cannot keep the baby a secret forever. We have no recourse.”
Indeed, it was a fact of which Darcy was also well aware. But he refused to accept it. “Anne is under my protection and care. I will not go back on my promise.”
Anne’s little fingers gripped around the fold of Darcy’s cravat, and he heard her yawn. Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek against her fuzzy head. Softly, he said, “I expect to hear from Mr. Rochester soon. If there is a way I can adopt Anne or keep her as my ward, he will find it. I will do what is required.” Mr. Rochester was his last hope. Darcy had exhausted every other resource.
Pursing her lips together in her thoughtful way, Mrs. Reynolds said, “I could not help but overhear Mr. Bingley’s invitation. You have relatives in Hertfordshire, do you not, Mrs. Bamber?”
The wet nurse’s eyebrows creased. “Yes, I do, and I know them as intimately as my own children, thanks to my cousin. She writes often and extensively. Madeline Bamber she was. Madeline Gardiner she has been for several years now. Her husband’s sister resides in Hertfordshire.”
Darcy did not like the manner with which Mrs. Reynolds pinched her chin and considered him.
She said, “I remember Mrs. Gardiner. Her father had the shop at Lambton. You may not remember him, Mr. Darcy, as you were young when they left for London. He was an honest man, and your own mother was known to converse at length with his daughter. Lady Anne was an exceptional judge of character.”
Where was she going with this reasoning?
She continued, “I believe we both know what Mr. Rochester will say. Can you not help yourself along, Mr. Darcy? Especially when you have already received an invitation from Mr. Bingley?”
Darcy’s jaw dropped. She would have him marry while he was still in mourning and when Anne clearly needed him? She would have him leave Pemberley, endangering Anne?
“Absolutely not,” he hissed, covering Anne’s ear for fear of disturbing her.
Mrs. Reynolds asked Mrs. Bamber, “Are your relatives in Hertfordshire the sort of people to be trusted with our charge? Are they as sensible as Mrs. Gardiner was known to be?”
Had she not heard him?
Mrs. Bamber looked between the two of them, answering when Mrs. Reynolds encouraged her with another nod. “The mother is a nervous, flighty creature. I would not trust her with a puppy much less with our sweet Anne. Their father’s estate is modest, and I know it is a source of anxiety to him that it is entailed to his nearest male relation. He has five daughters, you see, and only recently did the youngest marry … and she to a regimental officer without two pennies to rub together.”
This questioning served no purpose. Darcy had already refused Bingley’s offer. He turned to the wall where a portrait of Georgiana hung, turning Anne so she could see her mother while Mrs. Bamber expounded on the subject of her Hertfordshire relatives.
“However, my cousin Madeline always speaks highly of the two eldest Bennet daughters. She has nothing but the kindest things to say about them, and Madeline is nothing if not sensible and steady, as you recall.”
“They are daughters of a landed gentleman?” Mrs. Reynolds asked. Darcy felt her eyes on his back. He refused to turn around.
“Yes. They are proper ladies,” Mrs. Bamber said with pride.
Darcy eyed the door connecting the nursery to his bedchamber. He had learned over the past couple of months to do several activities with only one arm, and there was a book on his desk he would much rather read than endure the present conversation. He took a step toward the door, but Mrs. Reynolds swooped around him to block his path.
With a sweet smile directed at the sweet blossom in his arms, Mrs. Reynolds planted herself between Darcy and his escape. She was a clever one who knew him too well.
He was trapped.
Wasting no time, Mrs. Reynolds asked Mrs. Bamber, “What else can you tell us about your two eldest nieces?”
If anything, Mrs. Reynolds made him more determined than ever to stay on at Pemberley. The last place in the world he would ever agree to travel would be Hertfordshire. She could stare at him all she wanted. His answer would remain unchanged.
“Miss Jane Bennet is the eldest, and a real beauty she is reputed to be. She has a way with children, and Madeline praises her calm manners,” said Mrs. Bamber.
Darcy pretended he did not notice the look Mrs. Reynolds gave him at that. He would not leave Anne, and that was final.
Continuing, Mrs. Bamber said, “Miss Elizabeth is the second daughter. She is a clever one, but she is not cruel or greedy. When the heir of her father’s estate proposed marriage last year, she refused him, stating that they could never be happy together.”
“She put her own happiness ahead of her security and that of her family?” Darcy asked. He was not impressed. What he would give to secure Little Anne’s future!
Bowing her head, Mrs. Bamber mumbled, “I thought it was romantic. Her father is — or at least he was at the time — in good health. I suppose he is unchanged. I have not heard from Madeline yet this month. But, Lizzy, as Madeline calls her in her letters, has youth on her side. She was not yet of age when her cousin proposed. I cannot say she would react the same if a handsome young gentleman with kind manners and a gentle heart were to cast his eye in her direction.” The way Mrs. Bamber looked askance at Darcy as she spoke left little doubt to whom she referred.
Was he to be reduced to heeding the machinations of two females in his employ?
“I will not travel to Hertfordshire to propose marriage to an absolute stranger,” Darcy said bluntly.
Mrs. Reynolds replied snappily, “If your only recourse is to marry and produce an heir before Wickham finds out about his daughter, then I would encourage you to join Mr. Bingley in Hertfordshire. Like it or not, you will have to enter society again. You must marry! You could hardly do better in society. All of your acquaintances know Mr. Wickham, and he would sooner turn their sympathies against you.”
Darcy was well aware of the difficulties without Mrs. Reynolds pointing them out to him. While he had been busy caring for his sister, Wickham had no doubt used his time to garner the favor of their past mutual friends. It was the only way he could live as he did, by leeching off the commiseration of others.
“The Bennets would have no reason to know him, nor are they the kind of family with whom Mr. Wickham would seek to establish a friendship,” continued Mrs. Reynolds. “Miss Bennet sounds promising. Miss Elizabeth, on the other hand, sounds troublesome. A lady such as she would never agree to marry for convenience if she has already refused to marry for her own comfort and security.”
Mrs. Bamber nodded in agreement, saying, “Lizzy is Madeline’s clear favorite, but I have to agree she would never consent to a marriage of convenience. Jane is everything lovely. Madeline’s description of her is similar to how I would describe your dear departed mother, Lady Anne. Such grace and elegance.”
Next, the women would conspire to convince him that marriage to Miss Bennet was a certain path to the marital bliss his father and mother had enjoyed together. Darcy cherished those memories, though he did not trust them anymore. How could his life have been so happy when every day was a struggle to hold the last shred of his family together?
He had no time for troublesome females with romantic ideals or beauties who faded like the roses at the end of summer. His heart — what was left of it — was already taken by the tiny girl sleeping against his shoulder. He smoothed a wrinkle on her gown, swearing once again, as he had hundreds of times before, to protect her.

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