Despite his long friendship with Westhampton and his great affection for his sister, Darcy was glad to have Pemberley back to himself, fully restored to its customary serenity. The children, vocal as they were in expressing displeasure or entertainment, lacked the sophistication for true contention. Darcy failed to suppress his pleased feelings as he watched his brother-in-law depart.

At first, he had assumed that there would be other children, until those first awkward encounters which had ultimately produced Anne. As soon as Rosemary conceived, his gratitude at the respite was such that he had known he could never put himself through that experience again. Perhaps it was selfish, but his tormented conscience finally insisted upon being heard, and obeyed. The intense remorse coupled with considerable bewilderment (he could not even decide which woman he was actually being unfaithful to -- Elizabeth for being with Rosemary, or Rosemary for wishing she was Elizabeth) had made that time positively hellish. It was only six weeks before he had been quite certain Rosemary was pregnant, but even now it seemed an interminable length of time.

Naturally, he had been fond of his nephew simply for that reason -- his sister's child could not but be dear to him. Then, as Georgiana spent more and more time at Pemberley, he fond himself increasingly drawn to the dark-haired little boy. Darcy had no intentions of usurping Westhampton's paternal prerogatives, but it seemed his brother-in-law, like most fathers, had little interest in so young a child, and left his education almost wholly up to Georgiana. So, in effect there was nothing to usurp. Georgiana's son tugged at his heart almost as much as Anne did.

The first time Stephen called him "papa," it took an effort of will to correct him. While his better impulses were still in command, he took his nephew's hand, and marched him over to the miniatures, where a portrait of Westhampton was included. "That man is your papa, Stephen," he said gently.

Stephen considered it. "Not like me," he pronounced. "You like me."

Darcy hoped he was correctly interpreting when he said, "That's because your mamma is my sister. Do you know what a sister is?"

"Anne?"

"No, not exactly. It means that my parents were your mamma's parents."

"Yes," Stephen said, "you is papa, and mamma is Anne's mamma, so Anne is my sister."

"No," said Darcy, then sighed. "I can explain more when you are a little older, but I am not your papa, and your mamma is not Anne's mamma, and Anne is not your sister. I cannot be your papa because your mamma is my sister. That means that you and Anne are cousins."

Stephen frowned, looking at the miniatures. Westhampton, and Georgiana, and Darcy himself, and George Wickham, and Rosemary, and Sir James, and Lady Anne. "Mamma says Kurnitz is cousin. Like that?"

"Just like that," said Darcy, smiling. "Kurnitz's papa was your grandmamma's brother."

"You mamma's brother?" Stephen inquired, his solemn dark eyes brightening.

"Yes, I am."

"Oh. I understand," Stephen said. "Comcated."

"Very complicated," agreed Darcy.

"Wish you was papa," he said mournfully. Darcy's hand tightened on his nephew's shoulder, his throat tightening; he was rescued by a harried Mrs Reynolds, if rescuing it could be called.

"Mr Darcy," she cried, "she's here!"

He spared a moment to wish the people around him would stop using pronouns, and kindly replied, "Mrs Reynolds, I do not understand. Who is here? Why is it so very terrible?"

Mrs Reynolds gasped for breath and he gently sat her down. "It's . . . it's her ladyship, sir," she said, "I came as fast as I could."

"You shouldn't exhaust yourself just for Lady Westhampton," Darcy said with a frown. I should have expected this. How could the season be complete without a visit from every member of the family? "You must take care of yourself, Mrs Reynolds."

She sighed. "It's not Lady Westhampton, sir. It's Lady Catherine."

---

Bhavana: Glad you like it. Yes, he is very alone and detached . . . two three-year-old kids are his only real company. Elizabeth has her own problems. A spoiler -- he'll visit Bingley over the summer. There have been other visits I skipped over, but since this is a more detailed part I think we'll actually see it happening. He is going to get tired of that . . . Lord W isn't the last. The Westhamptons have a lot to resolve but they'll manage it.

Teresa: squeak Well, you're very hard on him. Remember that it's 1817 and the man lives in Derbyshire. One does not make brief visits unless you're fabulously wealthy (most of Georgiana's money is tied up via settlement for her and any kids they have -- the Westhamptons live well but they don't have the kind of liquid wealth Darcy does) -- and Lord W did go on genuine business. It could have been put off, naturally, but as he chose to go at that particular time that's what he did. He stayed longer than was strictly necessary, certainly (about four months), but it wasn't a seriously long sojourn by any stretch of the imagination. Again, I can only ask -- remember the time, and the class! By our standards Jane Austen was a snob; by hers, her attitude towards class was positively revolutionary. In some ways he is childish -- he doesn't get women, at all, and as a spoilt, isolated only child never learnt some important lessons. But he was proud, and hurt -- he only figured out what on earth was going on with her until he had stormed off.

Glad you like my 'changed' Darcy. Yes, he has. Even Austen's post-Hunsford Darcy didn't go looking for Elizabeth -- in fact avoided her. But he is not really avoiding her as such here, he's just not seeking her out -- partly because he thinks it's for the best, that it would only rake up old awkwardness and he could gain nothing more than her pity, and partly because he has so much going on he doesn't have time to think about it. He's in effect the father of two three-year-olds. That doesn't leave him a lot of time to think about other things. When he does he has Pemberley, his godchildren, the Westhamptons and Fitzwilliams -- and he's trying, at least subconsciously, not to think about her. Thanks. I'm so glad I'm making you think about the characters again -- that's what I'm trying to do, break out of the norms, re-interpret, etc.