And so March made way for April, when their snug little family circle would be expanded with a mishmash of relatives, uncle Spencer, Fitzwilliam, Mr and Mrs Bennet bringing Maria, Mr and Mrs Gardiner with their four children, and Jane and Bingley. Everything in the house had been readied, plenty of bedrooms had been prepared, a sitting room had been converted to a children's paradise with toys and suitable books so the maid wouldn't have to keep the youngsters quiet all the time since there would be no-one to be bothered by their noise.

Elizabeth had insisted on sending for a selection of crayons and beautiful papers, to be stored safely on a top shelf to offer the maid some pleasure for herself when her charges were asleep or with their parents. Having realised that art was taken as seriously or even more seriously among the lower classes, Darcy was proud of his wife to have thought of helping a budding talent along, even if it might only offer the maid a few hours of solitary leisure. Renowned artists generally did not come from the ranks of household staff, and were certainly never female, but of course that wouldn't stop Elizabeth.

With everything readied for their visitors, Darcy was a bit disappointed to find the English weather threatening to ruin their month of outdoors entertainment. Though the gentlemen were used to storm and rain in their fall hunts, Darcy had been looking forward so much to showing his relatives and friends how good a rider Elizabeth was, and he had hoped Fielding and Georgie would agree to join them for some of the calmer outings, they had come along so beautifully on their more placid horses. But now, a typical April storm was razing across the countryside, tearing at the young leaves of the trees, whipping a deluge of sleet-like rain against the window panes of his study as if winter was trying to take back the country.

Such miserable weather could not last for long, could it? Their guests would arrive in another week, and though April was often capricious up in the north, with even a cover of snow far from unlikely, better they had the atrocious weather now than next week.

A knock on his door broke his negative thoughts, and at his request to come in his butler appeared.

'There is someone to see you, master.'

Darcy was stunned. Travelling in this weather? It must be important!

'Did he leave his name? Was it an express? He must have been soaked!'

'He did indeed look somewhat bedraggled, sir. I asked him to come out of the rain and let someone see to his horse but he said he'd see you first to be certain of his welcome. He said his name was George, master, nothing more.'

George? Not sure of his welcome? If it was Wickham he was right to expect not being welcome at Pemberley. But maybe something was amiss with Lydia.

'Is he an army man, Stokes? Medium height, curly hair, weathered face but still tolerably handsome?'

If so, Elizabeth should come, too, for several reasons.

'No, sir, this is unmistakeably a gentleman, though very bedraggled, and rather on the pudgy side, excusing my bluntness.'

A fat gentleman of his acquaintance called George, probably someone he knew by his family name only, an eldest son or he'd be able to match the Christian name with a face.

'Well, I'll find out soon enough who it is, better see to him quickly for he will be getting wetter and colder by the minute. You arrange for his horse to be taken to the stables, I cannot think of anyone I'd leave outside in this weather, not even George Wickham. Thank you, Stokes.'

The butler bowed as Darcy hurried downstairs to the front door. As he opened it and recognised the gentleman standing there, indeed soaked through but in an excellent humour nonetheless, Darcy realised there was one other man besides Wickham, coincidentally going by the same Christian name, that he would prefer not to allow into his home. But he also realised he could not possibly refuse this George entrance, and the man himself knew it. The doubt he'd expressed had been solely for the sake of propriety.

'Why don't you come in quickly, Your Highness, you must be soaked through. There's Peter already to take your horse, he will take excellent care of your animal, dry it down and give it a good feed. Do you have any attendants?'

He should have at least two courtiers with him, plus maybe four guards? And a personal servant or two? They were probably standing just out of view, to give the impression His Highness was truly offering Darcy a choice to either allow them in or send them on. Fortunately they had plenty of excellent spare rooms ready for use, good enough for any court noble, and several functional rooms in the servants' quarter for the Prince's attendants and his guards.

But the Heir Presumptive did not signal to his escort to come into view, he merely handed the reins of his magnificent golden gelding or stallion, Darcy couldn't say, to Peter, and removed a set of saddlebags from its back with practised ease. The bags themselves looked as well-worn and practical as the way he carried them inside.

'I am of course required to travel with a suitable retinue, but I have dismissed them to a local inn in the hopes of finding a welcome under your roof myself, Mr Darcy.'

He looked around the hall, and when his eyes found Stokes in the doorway, keeping a discrete distance but ready to take their visitor's coat, he addressed Darcy in a calm, quiet voice that was meant to reach no further than the two of them.

'I was very serious when I expressed myself to your butler, Mr Darcy. You have the right to refuse your hospitality to me as much as you have to any other man. I am not here in an official capacity, but as a mere gentleman paying a visit to people he respects. I know I cannot be a welcome sight to you, my reputation is not flawless and you love your little lady very much. Please let me explain: for one long month your brother-in-law's compositions have haunted me day and night. Maria would not allow me to send for him, though I've bought myself a lovely piano on Mr Clementi's advice. I realise I am imposing on you by appearing on your doorstep unannounced, and if you are in any doubt over my presence in your family circle I will stay at the same inn as my entourage and pay a few visits to Mr Fielding to hear him play. I have to hear more, can you understand that?'

Actually, Darcy could not, he'd had all the music he could wish for since the time Georgie was twelve or thirteen, but he could imagine Fielding's compositions haunting someone, and as his brother-in-law's patron he had to be polite and even forthcoming to his most influential admirer. Not to mention what Manners would do to him if he dared to bar the future king from his house. And to be sure, he did look a sad sight with his pleading expression, so different from the Crown Prince's reputed self-confidence.

Still slightly reluctantly, Darcy offered, 'You are most welcome to stay here, Your Highness, and join our small circle for as long as you like. I'll have Stokes take you to our best room, do you need anything else? An attendant, dry garments of any kind?'

'Thank you very much for the offer, Mr Darcy,' the rotund face was indeed thankful, 'but I do not want to impose on you any further. I will manage to put on some dry clothes myself, and then present myself to you and your family. I assure you I will respect your wife and just enjoy her delightful conversation, if I may please hear Mr Fielding play again.'

'I am quite certain he will be eager to perform for you, I know the quiet of the country has allowed him to compose very constantly, and I am virtually certain he will not hesitate to let a true connoisseur hear his new work.'

'Now I cannot wait. I will be entirely at your service, please do not put yourselves out to accommodate me, I know I am imposing on you and you will hardly notice my presence.'

Well, at least he had excellent manners, and he seemed nice enough. Darcy would try his utmost to be kind and trusting, though the last would be an almost impossible task.

Instead of calling out or gesturing Stokes, Darcy went up to his butler in person and warned him quietly to treat their visitor with the utmost respect, and if necessary, address him as Your Highness. His respect for his butler went up another notch when he could not see a single sign of surprise or awe in the man's expression, he must have been at the top of his class wherever butlers where schooled, such control. The only sign the man gave of his feelings was a quiet, 'Thank you for your warning, Mr Darcy.'

As soon as Stokes had taken Prince George's soaked coat en saddle bags and led their guest towards the stairs, Darcy rang for Mrs Reynolds, asking her to have the cook prepare his best confectionery for dinner for a special guest, and make an extra effort for tea to please this hungry guest, then walked towards the drawing-room, lost in thought. They generally ate well, but most likely not up to the standards of a Royal. That couldn't be helped, though, there was no better chef than Pemberley's available within miles, and anyway, Darcy was not going to put himself out to please the Prince or they'd never get rid of him. Of course that wasn't true, the man had his duties and must have moved mountains to be able to ride four days through atrocious weather to hear the music that haunted him, but Darcy still suspected him of having a secondary motif. No-one just let go of Elizabeth, Wickham hadn't, Fitzwilliam hadn't, and most importantly, Darcy himself hadn't been able to. The best Darcy and Elizabeth could hope for was that he'd keep his promise to respect her, though there was no way to enforce it.

Fortunately everyone was in the drawing-room, gentle music coming from the Clementi now residing there, maybe they should try to find a place for the Zumpe during this month when they were expecting a lot of company. Or maybe for the duration of Georgie's and Fielding's residence.

Elizabeth got up instantly and laid a hand on his arm.

'Something's happened my love, I can see it. Do you want to tell us about it?'

'I most certainly do, it's not exactly bad news, but not altogether good either. You have a very esteemed visitor, Fielding. He has come all the way from London, on horseback, and has left his entourage at a local inn.'

'You are not serious! He's here? After a mere month? By himself?'

Of course Elizabeth knew straight away.

'I expected him to come, but this quickly?'

'I know, my love, I know. It's indeed the Prince of Wales himself, by himself, he presented himself like any other visitor, dripping wet, holding his own horse, a magnificent creature by the way, Manners, excused himself for imposing on us. But he couldn't forget your music, Fielding, it haunted him, and he had to hear it again.'

Darcy did not mention the Prince's allusions to Elizabeth, he would tell her later. It was not dignified to discuss such matters in public.

'He said he would be down as soon as he had changed into something dry, he must be starving.'

Now Elizabeth looked at him in earnest and asked, 'Do you want me to put on a dress? I've been wondering whether to wear a dress more often once our guests arrive, then change just before we go out, instead of wearing the split skirts all morning. This just forces my decision, and you have the last say.'

He knew why, she was afraid his jealousy would cause his little problem to reappear to complicate things. But Darcy thought he'd conquered his despicable jealousy, and this would be the perfect time to test himself. Besides, he enjoyed showing off Elizabeth's independence and she did look fabulous in those split skirts and blouses. Mrs Norman had made a good deal on the pattern with the local seamstress, the one who had made the blouses and Elizabeth's lovely coats. That talented lady expected to be able to sell quite a lot of the newfangled skirts to local women, and after Mrs Reynolds' mediation had offered to buy the pattern for a decent sum. And of course she had been able to sell half a dozen straight away, to Mrs Fielding and Mrs Manners, who were enjoying riding astride and planned to do a lot of it. Elizabeth had ordered a few extras, the seamstress had added a few improvements, and the tiny bit of weight she'd gained had stayed despite their rambling, riding, shooting and being very active in the bedroom, so she'd had several made to her new measures. She'd said, 'Maybe I'm merely growing up, maybe I'm indeed with child, but I do not feel any different. Do you see a difference in me?'

Besides her being more beautiful and radiant than ever? No. But a month had almost passed, and if her moon time hadn't come by the time their guests arrived she had promised him she'd ask Jane what she should expect to feel if she were indeed with child.

'You seem miles away, Fitzwilliam. Not having lewd thoughts, I hope?'

If only she'd refrain from similar remarks in the company of the Prince! The older man had promised to keep his thoughts off Mrs Darcy, but no man could resist Elizabeth when she was being perky. Well, except maybe Will Collins, but that wasn't exactly a recommendation.

'I am now. But they'll fade. You wear whatever you like, Elizabeth, I love to see you in split skirts, and I love what you have done with Barley. Can you imagine I was thinking of the improvements the seamstress made to those skirts?'

'I think she did a marvellous job, my love, and the fitting is so much better. You truly don't mind for the Prince of Wales, and your relatives, to see me in what in truth are trousers?'

'I don't. I am proud of you, and I want them to see you ride, and shoot. And maybe you should have a short version of those undergarments made, it will be too warm for woollies soon.'

'I already thought of that. I advised Anne and Georgiana to get some of the long ones, and Anne admitted she already had several of the short pairs, apparently Nick recommended them to keep her monthly padding in place. So I asked Mrs Reynolds to get me some, too, since keeping padding in place is very, very important and no-one will see them anyway.'

Were they seriously talking about women's affairs in the drawing-room, while at that very time the heir to the British throne was changing in their best guest room? He must have shown his thoughts, for Elizabeth laughed heartily.

'I think you are the best men around to not hide from these embarrassing intimate issues. You, and Nick, and Eric as well. And Anne says Simon and Frederick support her whenever Nick cannot while she is in such pain and bleeding. It matters, Fitzwilliam, a lot.'

But even while she said that Elizabeth was very worried, hiding her feelings to not upset her beloved. The Prince of Wales in their very own house? She did not doubt the older man's self-control, he had plenty of willing women to choose from and he was spoiled but not heartless, and undeniably a decent man. No, Elizabeth feared for Fitzwilliam, he had not shown any jealousy for their entire time at Pemberley so far, but there had been no-one to be jealous of. And this was the last man he could afford to show it to, he absolutely had to control himself. Or she could try to avoid Prince George, to make it easier on her beloved. But she liked the Prince for his intelligent conversation, and he liked her, and it was such an excellent connection for Eric to have. She could not slight him to please her husband, and she didn't want to. Maybe she could order Fitzwilliam to keep his calm? Then reward him if he succeeded?

'I don't really know why I've put on my riding skirts this morning, I suppose the weather will stay like this the entire day. Why don't we go for a ramble after tea? We can take an umbrella and stay dry.'

'With this wind? Well, maybe if we take the circuit, it's rather sheltered. We could stay in today and enjoy the music. That reminds me...Fielding, Georgie?'

Both looked up from the music sheets they were studying.

'Do you mind having your little instrument downstairs while we are entertaining?'

The two looked at each other and Fielding observed, 'It's a very good idea, actually. I'll be able to run a few things I've written past all of you, especially the Prince, I guess, since he has heard the best players and composers. Might as well make the most of such an unexpected visit. Shall I find Nick and bring it over right away?'

'Bob and Bruce can do it, you know, no need for Nick to lug things around.'

'If you don't mind, I prefer to have Nick, he doesn't mind using his strength and he knows about instruments by now, he helped bring the Clementi in here. Maybe Bruce can help him, that piano is heavy and Bob is rather slight, though I know he is stronger than he looks.'

'I'll help Nick carry the piano,' Manners said in his usual forceful way. 'I'm stronger than Bruce and I know what that piano means to you, Eric, and to Georgiana. I think we can keep it stable so it doesn't detune too much. Let's do it quickly, before your guest comes down.'

Anne didn't hesitate to follow the two men out, and Georgie immediately put her elder brother to work moving several comfortable chairs to make room for the little black Zumpe. Darcy could not fault the spot she'd chosen, whereas the Clementi was placed a bit to the side to facilitate ceaseless practise without disturbing their usual routine too much, while still allowing the occasional demonstration, Georgiana planned to make the little Zumpe the focal point of the room. Had it been larger, they would have had to move the other piano out or rearrange the heavier furniture, but as it was, there was just enough space for two instruments.

Piano moved and put into its new place, a prime spot in the middle of the large drawing-room where it caught every eye despite its plainness, Georgiana and Eric occupied themselves with tuning. Darcy was reading, as usual, and Frederick was a little bored. He wanted to go out, but rain or sleet, or something in between, was still punishing the windows with energy, he would be soaked before reaching the stables.

Anne and Elizabeth were sitting together, each working on some intricate piece of embroidery. Actually, Elizabeth was working on an intricate piece, she had been fond of needlework for as long as Frederick had known her, but Anne had picked up the habit only recently, most likely because she saw Elizabeth enjoying it so much. Anne's work was improving rapidly, while not even approaching Elizabeth's accomplishments as yet Anne had the patience and the precision required for the painstaking job of placing stitch after stitch of coloured silk where it should be, and not even a hair's breadth to either side.

'Anne, my dear?' Frederick queried Anne, making sure his voice expressed his intention of teasing his wife with her newly found pastime.

As she looked up at him, eyes sparkling at his endearment, he addressed her, 'We have not been married a full month and already you are stuck inside the house doing needlework. I thought your main reason for accepting my hand was to avoid such a fate?'

His beautiful wife and Elizabeth both laughed heartily, Anne had indeed used needlework as an analogy for the suppression of genteel ladies by their husbands, and now she was doing it voluntarily.

'You are so right, my dear Frederick,' Anne answered. 'I never knew how much fun needlework could be, now I'm kind of sorry I didn't marry Lieutenant Talbot, then I could have stayed inside instead of having to go out in this weather. Do you know Elizabeth actually suggested taking a long ramble through the woods after meeting with the Prince of Wales? These people are mad, Frederick!'

She rolled her eyes, and Elizabeth observed, 'I'm so sorry, Anne, for inadvertently robbing you of your freedom by passing on my addiction to needlework. I should have been more careful stitching in your presence. Fortunately Frederick had secured your hand before I subverted you, or you'd be Mrs Talbot and carrying the Lieutenant's child by now.'

Anne didn't even look horrified at the idea.

'I have to admit I love knitting and crocheting little socks and jumpers, and I'm so glad you taught me how to sew as well as embroider so I can make my own baby's little dresses when my time comes.'

That didn't even sound as if spoken in jest, was Anne eager to have a baby? She and Nick had had a little accident on the morning of their wedding, and not enough time had passed as of yet to know whether their failure to use Nick's protections would have any consequences. But like Georgiana, she should not go on a trip to the continent carrying a child, except Anne was twenty-five, not seventeen. She might be longing for a child now she had a man she loved and her future was secured. Frankly, Frederick wouldn't mind having a real family himself, even if he wouldn't actually be the baby's father.

Now Anne laughed even harder.

'You didn't think I really want a baby already, did you? I like embroidery because it is something truly beautiful that I can make myself. I never had the energy to actually make something from almost nothing, and Elizabeth showed me a lady's pastime can be beautiful instead of a hideous and useless waste of materials. I can talk and work, or listen to music and work, and then I'll put it away and ride a horse, or play billiards, or draw maps, or maybe even shoot a gun or catch fish. I can do whatever I like, and I think I will enjoy that for a year or maybe two. And then I'll give you an heir, Frederick, and enjoy giving life to a whole new human being. If it's a boy, can we call him Lewis, for my father? I loved him so much, I'd like his memory to live on.'

Anne had turned a lot more serious, though she was not very much affected but rather thoughtful.

'Of course we can, my love. I think little Lewis will be the most loved boy in the world, with three fathers and you as his mother. And if she is a girl, we'll find a suitable name, and prepare her for her role as heiress. She will have both our estates, and will be a lady to be reckoned with.

And I'd love to go out in the rain in a few hours, I need to breathe fresh air at least once a day to be truly alive, sleet or storm notwithstanding.'

And then the door opened and Darcy's butler calmly announced His Highness, the Prince of Wales. Everyone got up to greet their future king, Frederick seeking out his lovely wife's side, proud to be standing next to such a beautiful woman as her husband, even if their marriage was not one of love. Not one of romantic love, for he did love Anne, and she loved him, in many other ways.

Prince George did not seem particularly happy to be introduced with his title, though he accepted it with something much like resignation. He was not dressed as befitted a prince, but more like a gentleman going on a hunting trip without his valet, and he was not planning to behave like a prince either, that became clear straight away. For instead of greeting the party in order of their rank, as one would have expected, Prince George started with its lowest-ranked member, Eric.

'Mr Fielding, I beg your forgiveness for bothering you during your country seclusion. Your compositions have haunted my dreams as well as my waking hours, I could not stand another season without hearing them again. My Maria forbade me to send for you, said you needed your repose or risked losing your genius, so I decided to come to you, all alone, and throw myself on your mercy.'

Eric shook his hand in the spirit in which it was offered, then bowed anyway to show his respect. Frederick knew he had to be beaming with pride over his friend's tact and refinement, many a gentleman could use his manners as an excellent example. After his bow, Eric spoke with humour.

'Your Highness, no excuses are necessary, for I will shamelessly put your broad experience and faultless taste to my own good use. I have several new works I'd like to play for you, and I am looking forward to your expert opinion on them. And of course as reward I will play the works you crave to hear, as many times as we can fit into your stay here.'

'You are the soul of courtesy, Mr Fielding, I cannot wait to hear you play.'

Naturally, he then took Georgiana's hand and kissed it, addressing her familiarly and expressing a hope to hear her play, too. And Georgiana also showed her future king the respect that was his due, making Frederick very happy.

Of course Prince George should have greeted Darcy first, as his host and the highest ranking gentleman present, but they had met at the door and anyway, Darcy didn't seem insulted at Prince George's gesture towards Eric. But now the Prince showed he had at least some tact for he greeted Darcy instead of turning towards Elizabeth first, though Frederick could see he wanted to, he indeed admired her, poor Darcy. Although, poor, he was stunningly handsome and incredibly wealthy, and his character was beyond reproach. What chance had an almost-forty-year-old, chubby womaniser who was married to a hag and routinely cheated on her, and even on his current mistress? Elizabeth didn't care about status or even more wealth, she had resisted this man's advances before and on his own turf, when he had been dressed to perfection and could ply her with Madeira wine and more importantly, exotic confectioneries made of chocolate and bergamot. Right now, he appeared mostly to be a true devotee to Fielding's music, not an admirer of Mrs Darcy's charms.

But when Prince George turned towards Elizabeth, Frederick had to revise that opinion, for the plainly dressed Heir Presumptive practically glowed with admiration. Or was it the heat of the room on his florid face? He had been out in the freezing cold for days, after all. Darcy was not quite ready to murder him, though he seemed distracted, as if forcing himself to ignore the whole scene, which was probably the wisest course, since Elizabeth was propriety itself.

'Mrs Darcy, I am so glad to see you again, and in such propitious circumstances. Now please tell me for I have been dying to find out: how is your beautiful hunter, did you ride him already? And have you taken your first obstacles? And I hardly dare ask, but I am going to anyway for I cannot bear not knowing: have you used your rifle yet, your Christmas present?'

This was a devilishly smart man, and if he could just keep it in his pants, as Nick would say, he would be the best king ever, or at least in a long long time. For those questions all related to gifts that proved Mr Darcy's devotion to his wife, and by referring to them he practically promised Darcy to respect such deep feelings. Elizabeth caught on perfectly, of course. Her father would have given his right arm to be here, to witness his daughter matching wits with the Prince of Wales.

'You are indeed a charmer, Your Highness! You couldn't have found a subject on which I had more to say, or more praise to bestow. Barley, my horse is called Barley because he is as sweet and brown as barley sweets, is just perfect. He is stunningly handsome, faster on the long run than any horse except maybe Fitzwilliam's thoroughbreds, he will jump anything I ask him to, and yet he is as gentle as a dove and minds my every word or move. Can you believe that? I have had him for but a month and it is like we have been together for years.'

'You have indeed already taken obstacles? I salute your bravery, Mrs Darcy, and your husband's, too. To watch someone he loves so much riding as if she is an amazon.'

'You are so right. When Fitzwilliam rode a young, nervous hunter I was afraid he'd come to harm. But nothing happened, and Barley would never hurt me.'

'So you've spent your time here riding, that is great. The shooting season won't start for ever so long, yet, there will be plenty of time to practise handling your rifle.'

Elizabeth laughed heartily and observed, 'We have been enjoying ourselves scandalously, Your Highness, for while you were hard at work in our nation's capital, we have spent the whole month just enjoying ourselves, riding, rambling, fishing, and indeed shooting. We've practised on vermin, hares, foxes, birds of prey, magpies and crows. I wished to join a barn hunt, but Fitzwilliam said that was where he drew the line. No ladies at a barn hunt. Not for the killing, you see, but for the goings-on. He doesn't mind providing his tenants with a keg of ale when they work together to destroy vermin, but afterwards... Have you ever been to a barn hunt?'

Elizabeth, Elizabeth, she was truly her father's daughter, afraid of nothing, respect for nothing. Imagine the Prince of Wales at a barn hunt, they were the country equivalent of the parties Frederick used to organise for his friends. Prince George would love a barn hunt.

'I cannot say that I have, no. I can imagine what it is but not why such an event would be unsuitable for ladies, maybe you could elaborate?'

'Well, only from what I have been told. Twenty-odd farmers, farm hands and the local land owner gather at one of their barns or granaries. Some bring terriers or ferrets, and release them to chase out the rats. Everybody else shoots rats until there are none left. The youngest farm hands dispose of the dead rats while everybody else breaks open a keg to celebrate another successful hunt. Next time they gather at a different barn and rid it of vermin for years to come.'

'I cannot see much harm in that, as long as one doesn't accidentally shoot a ferret, a terrier or one of the other gunmen it sounds like great practise.'

She had him, he really didn't know.

'Ah, but I've left out one thing: the women. You see, during a barn hunt the men work as a team, and rank no longer applies for the duration of the hunt. And the local women and girls apparently like to watch the whole spectacle, and claim their share of the brew. They have been know to become free with their favours, and not just towards the other tenants. Which is why Fitzwilliam generally sends the keg with his huntsmaster and stable master and refrains from attending the occasions himself.'

Prince George slapped his thighs in mirth and gasped, 'Mrs Darcy, I cannot help it, I adore you. And though I can imagine why you'd want to test your mettle in this way, I cannot disagree with your husband that a barn hunt is indeed no place for a lady. Nor for a gentleman, frankly. I'm so glad to finally be here, and to receive such a welcome. As lady of the house, would you do the honour of introducing me to your friends?'

That was going pretty far, but it was not yet an insult worthy of a challenge to a duel of honour. And Darcy was still rather composed, a little more, actually. But now it was Frederick's turn to be introduced to the Prince of Wales, and he was looking forward to it, he kind of liked the fellow so far.

Elizabeth approached Frederick first, though they had in fact come to the conclusion that Anne outranked him. Well, not anymore, according to the law, and since rank was as much a human construct as the law, Elizabeth would decide for herself whom to introduce first, making Frederick the logical choice since Anne was standing on Frederick's other side, partially hidden by his broad figure.

'Your Highness, this is our good friend Mr Frederick Manners. You may have heard of him, since you have proven to read the papers.'

'The Mr Manners indeed! Master mind of the New Year's Eve Ball, you have quite the reputation. Of course I knew you were a friend of the family, my advisor argued against my coming here since you are reputed to be my father's confidant and as such a possible spy, but I decided there was nothing reprehensible about listening to superior music and to therefore take the risk. Very pleased to meet you, Mr Manners!'

And he meant it, Frederick could see that. The man before him was just that, a man, a music lover trying to find what had moved him. The attitude of a prince he had left behind with his courtiers and his guards, and his rich clothes. This man was showing them more of himself than even most high nobles ever saw.

'I am very pleased to meet you, too, Your Highness. I assure you I am neither your father's confidant, nor his spy. In fact, I don't even know him personally. People say that and it suits me not to set them straight. I know several of your mother's ladies in person, one of them has meant a lot to me at a certain time of my life when I needed some guidance. Nothing more, so please feel free to enjoy any entertainment Pemberley has to offer without it getting back to anyone.

And now, Your Highness, I am very proud to introduce you to my lady wife of almost four weeks, Mrs Anne Manners, née De Bourgh.'

Apparently this was Anne's cue, she had indeed been hiding behind him and now stepped forward to meet the Prince of Wales' eyes. And Frederick instantly understood some of Darcy's feelings, for the look in Prince George's eyes was one of stunned admiration, and the slick ladies' man stood dumb for more seconds than mere role playing could account for. This was real.

Anne's kind and gentle voice broke the silence, despite the rank of her collocutor. She also offered him her hand, as if for him to kiss it.

'I am very pleased to meet you, Your Highness.'

Nothing more, that would have been unforgivably rude, whilst this was just covering up for a moment of weakness, as men were wont to do for one another. Anne was already getting used to being one of the boys. The Prince took her hand and kissed it with feeling, he was truly struck with Anne's beauty and presence, and while Frederick did not suffer from jealousy over this himself, he feared for Nick as he feared for Darcy. Oh all right, why fool himself? He didn't like another man drooling over his wife, not at all.

'Mrs Manners, I did read about your engagement, and I read the descriptions of your dress, and your poise, and your beauty. But mere descriptions cannot do justice to the sweet reality, your beauty is beyond this world.'

While most ladies would be thrilled to hear such words, Frederick knew Anne still thought of herself as the thin, tired girl she'd seen in the mirror for the past ten years, and though she didn't show her discomfort, he knew it would be there and she would not fall for flattery. But the Prince still had intelligent conversation and a true love for the arts in his arsenal of attractions. Well, Frederick had told Anne she would be free do do as pleased her in their marriage and he was not going to come back on his promise. That was between Anne and Nick.

'Thank you, Your Highness. Didn't the paper also mention the love between my husband and myself, even when we were merely engaged?'

Someone was taking cues from Elizabeth! And it worked, for Prince George looked chastised and said with a genuine smile, 'It did most eloquently, and I have to admit I also read Mr Goodfellow's account of your very private wedding. Some newspapers wrote that had to be false information, Mr Manners would never get married without throwing the best party of all times, but I know Mr Goodfellow is a friend of the family. For the Bachelor of Bachelors to marry in private he must be very much in love, and you are indeed a charming couple. Mr Manners, you married a veritable jewel, beautiful and smart as well. Rumours say you have the same vice as I, but I hope they were as faulty as those making you my father's lackey.'

Don't worry, Prince George, Frederick would make Anne happy, and she'd never lack for anything in her life, especially not love. Of course he couldn't say that out loud, but he would tell him part of the truth.

'I guess I do have a vice, but not the one the papers mention. That is also a thing I let them believe because I could not be bothered to defend myself against it. Instead I use it to my advantage. But I assure you that Mrs Manners knew me much better than any reporter before she agreed to marry me.'

'And who says I don't have my own vice, Your Highness? I suppose reporters like to believe that ladies from a certain class, or maybe women in general, are incapable of impropriety. So they haven't made one up for me. But that they don't want to see it doesn't mean it isn't there.'

Cheeky Anne, and so smart. Diverting the Prince's attention to herself so Darcy wouldn't have to be jealous. Elizabeth would give her a medal. And hopefully a warning to keep Nick informed, for the servants had come in to bring tea and they would hear things and talk, maybe not to outsiders, but certainly among themselves.

Now deadly serious, Prince George replied, 'You are so right, Mrs Manners, I'd say ladies are as capable of vice and sin as any gentleman, though if they are caught their punishment is much more severe. And I do believe that is because both women and men are unwilling to accept that a woman has the same basic drives as a man, despite both being in essence children of nature, not higher forms of life.'

That was an interesting surmise and they pursued it over tea, which was decidedly richer than usual with fruits, cold meats and pastries, but also pie and whipped cream, and even a number of sticky sweets Frederick had never seen served before on Darcy's table.