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Author's note: Whoa... you guys keep showering me with so many wonderful comments that I'm practically flummoxed!

Thank you everyone, also those whom I cannot thank personally!

Meanwhile, I believe I have found a way around the minor obstacle that was causing me problems in the Master of Pemberley story.
So I hope that tale will soon be continuing again, too!

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The estate and the children kept him busy enough in the weeks that followed. But every evening after the children had gone off to bed, he sat by the fire in the drawing-room, thinking.

He had never really thought about it, but now that he did, he began to realize that indeed he was lonely. Yes, he had his children around him and his staff and his tenants and all that – but no one really who did not need anything from him. No one whose company he could enjoy just for the sake of their company.

Richard would probably come the closest to that, and how often did he see him? A few weeks a year mostly; a month or two at the most.

Darcy, too, might come close. But although he lived quite nearby, somehow they were both too busy with their lives and their estates to have more than sporadic contact.

And his friends from his university days were so spread out over the country that the little contact they still kept up was entirely by post.

He was used to being alone. He even welcomed it after a busy day.

But it did not negate the fact that it would be nice to have someone to talk to in the evenings. An equal, with whom he could share his worries, or share a good laugh. Someone with whom he could have a fierce debate just for the fun of it. Or just sharing the day. Someone around whom he could relax; someone with whom he could drop his around-the-clock role as the master/father figure for many hundreds. Someone who felt free to not always take him seriously.

He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. "Damn you, Darcy," he muttered. "If all your marriage did was making me realize how lonely I am, I am not sure I can be so happy for you."

Oh, nonsense. Of course he was happy for him. Even if the bliss would have lasted no further than their wedding night, at least his cousin would have experienced it.

He heaved a sigh. He both dreaded and looked forward to his planned unannounced visit with the Darcys. On the one hand, he fervently hoped that they were still as besotted with each other as they had been on their wedding day – if only to prove that it was possible indeed.

On the other hand, he kind of hoped that their relationship had already begun to decline – if only to make him feel better for not being the only one who had grossly misjudged his wife.

Either way, as the weeks passed, he became more and more skeptical as to what he would find at Pemberley. Surely happy-ever-afters were the stuff of fairy-tales?

Another sigh. Maybe he should just get it over with. Darcy and his bride had had about three weeks since their wedding day now, and tomorrow promised to be a fine day.

Yes, he would go and see them tomorrow. If nothing else, it would hopefully restore both his peace of mind and his contentment with his lot.

"Hartwell!" Darcy immediately concluded his conversation with his steward when he noticed his cousin riding up to the courtyard, and ran to greet him. "Good to see you, Cousin! What brings you here? I hope your family is in good health?"

"Very." It was unbelievable: Darcy looked even happier than on his wedding day, and Mrs Darcy was not even in sight!

Meanwhile, Darcy was pumping his hand, prattling away in a manner he had never heard from his reticent cousin before, and the overall impression he made on Hartwell was one of giddiness. Giddy with happiness, that is.

"Come on inside," he was saying. "I am sure Elizabeth would love to see you, too. Are you staying the night?"

A few minutes later, he was ensconced in a wingback chair in the family drawing-room, facing the giddy Darcy perching on the armrest of his wife's chair with his arm around her shoulders. And his wife – her hand on his knee – so beaming with bubbly happiness that she would easily outshine the sun.

He had to learn their secret…

It was a bit awkward to address the matter so bluntly though, so at first they talked in platitudes: the family's health, the weather, the state of the roads, the prognosis for wool prices…

But when at last there was a little lull in the conversation (while Mrs Darcy was (unconsciously?) rubbing her husband's knee), he decided to plunge in. "Actually, I did come here with a specific purpose. Can I… can I ask you something?"

"Ask," Darcy grinned.

He took a deep breath. "It is obvious to anyone that you two are very happy together. And I am glad to see that has not changed since your wedding day. But if I may be so bold to ask… I am curious. How did that happen? How did you even meet?"

The Darcys looked at each other, and to his surprise, they guffawed.

"Weeeell…" Mrs Darcy drew out the word to truly exaggerated lengths. "It started at the public assembly in my hometown, where this lunkhead" – she playfully swatted at Darcy's head – "insulted me before we were even properly introduced."

"You didn't!" Hartwell chided his cousin appalled.

"Oh yes," Darcy happily admitted. "As a result, she took an immediate and heartfelt dislike to me, which was fertile ground for Wickham – remember him?"

"Um…" Hartwell cast his mind about. "The name sounds familiar, but…"

"You are right – I guess you never met him. But perhaps you may have heard about him from Richard. Wickham and I used to play together as boys, but he has turned out pretty bad."

"He is a jealous rat," Mrs Darcy added darkly.

"Yes. Anyway," Darcy continued, "The ever charming Wickham showed up in that town and painted me as a blackhearted villain to her, and based on her own experience with me, she had no reason to doubt his word."

"I should have though," she demurred. "But the result was, that whenever we met, I would try and needle him as much as I could. That was a such a novel experience for Mr Ten-Thousand-A-Year, that he could not help but be intrigued."

"And fall in love with her before I knew what I was doing," Darcy continued. "Which scared me out of my wits! Stupid as I was, I considered her too far below my station, so I was scared to death to raise expectations that I would not be able to meet."

"Naturally," Mrs Darcy picked up the narrative, "It never occurred to Mr Lunkhead here that I preferred to see the back of him. If I had known he loved being needled, I would have fawned over him instead." **

Hartwell chuckled. He was intrigued. "And?"

"Then we met at Rosings, where she was staying with her cousin, who happens to be Aunt Cathy's rector. Suddenly we met practically every day…"

"Which was your own fault, because you cannot take a hint," his wife cut in.

He kissed her hair. "Be that as it may, this lady by now had totally bewitched me, and I knew but one thing: I wanted her, and no one but her, for my wife, even if she was so far beneath me."

"Yet you forgot to woo me."

"I did woo you!" he protested. "You just did not recognize it for what it was!"

"Arguing with me?! Staring out of the window without a word? Letting the Colonel flirt with me?"

Hartwell chuckled. "Way to go, Darce. You call that wooing?"

Darcy shrugged bashfully. "In my defence, I was a total novice in the art. Up till then, my only experience with wooing was in trying to fend it off."

Hartwell sobered immediately. "I can sympathize with you there, Cousin."

"Anyway," Mrs Darcy continued their tale, "It all culminated in the second worst proposal in the history of mankind."

Now Hartwell burst into laughter. "Only the second worst?"

"I have some experience," she said with mock piety. "At least your cousin started by saying that he loved and admired me, before he insulted me in every possible way."

Darcy was looking decidedly uncomfortable now, and she quickly pulled down his head and kissed his cheek. "It was also a definite point in his favour that he refrained from saying that Lady Catherine had instructed him to marry me."

Hartwell nearly spat out his tea. "Who said that?!"

But she waved the question away. "Irrelevant."

"Fact is," Darcy took over, "I made that truly atrocious proposal, she showed her good sense in turning me down, and the whole thing ended in the row of the century."

"It turned out there were quite a few misunderstandings between us, and the next day he wrote me a letter…"

"Very inappropriately," Darcy interjected.

"But it did clear things up between us," Mrs Darcy insisted. "I am ever so glad you did, even if at the time, we neither expected to ever see the other again."

"Even if we were both belatedly beginning to realize that we might actually suit tremendously well."

"Yes." She lovingly rested her head against his shoulder. "Anyway, when summer came, my aunt and uncle took me on a tour of Derbyshire."

"Which included a visit to Pemberley," Darcy added.

"Which was awfully awkward," Mrs Darcy recalled. "Even if we had been assured that the family was not at home."

"But I was actually coming back that day, and after a hot ride, I decided to strip down and go for a swim in the lake before going to the house. Only when I got out of the water…"

"He came face to face with me – dripping wet!" She munched at the memory. "You looked absolutely glorious!"

"And thoroughly embarrassed."

"When summer comes, I will push you into the lake every day."

"Minx!" he scolded happily, covering her hand on his knee with his own.

"Anyway," Mrs Darcy continued, "That was the start of a few days of proper wooing - his first! But then I got called home in a family emergency."

"Oh dear," Hartwell reacted. "Is everyone alright?"

"It got resolved," she replied curtly, clearly indicating she did not want to discuss it. (What was it again that Richard had written about her sister?) "The point is, that Mr Darcy here followed me back to Hertfordshire, engaged in some of his personal brand of wooing, and ended up asking for my hand again – sort of."

"You are forgetting Lady Catherine," her husband reminded her. "She has been so infinitely helpful in getting us together; surely you cannot deny her the credit she is due?"

Hartwell raised his eyebrows, and Mrs Darcy swatted at her husband. "You tell him then."

"Alright." Darcy straightened himself. "I had business in London for a few days…"

"That was before he asked me again," his wife clarified.

"Yes. Well, the fact that Elizabeth's sister had got engaged to my friend Bingley had hit the grapevine, and somewhere along the line, someone had made the news a little more exciting by adding that I would soon be marrying Jane's sister. You can imagine Aunt Cathy's reaction when she heard that piece of news."

Hartwell grinned. "I am most seriously displeased."

"Exactly. She travelled to Hertfordshire in high dudgeon to extract from Elizabeth a promise that she would never marry me – which she flatly refused."

"That must have been some confrontation!" Hartwell commented.

"It was. And when I stuck with my refusal, she ran straight to Darcy in London to tell him of my unconscionable stubbornness. Imagine little old me, refusing to promise not to marry her exalted nephew!"

"Which had quite the opposite effect of what she intended of course," Darcy happily recounted. "Two days later, we were engaged to be married."

Hartwell was shaking his head, his face one big smile. "Someone ought to dramatize your story into a novel."

"No one would believe it," Darcy scoffed.

"Does it matter?" Mrs Darcy challenged. "Perhaps I might even write it myself!"

"You would not!" was Darcy's shocked reaction. "You want the whole world to know what a rude and brooding ogre I am?"

"I will portray you in a way that will make every reader fall in love with you," she promised. "In fact, I think I will start writing tomorrow."

Soon after that, Darcy had to return to his steward to deal with a problem on the estate, and Hartwell was left to the entertainment of Mrs Darcy. He had had but little exposure to her in Hertfordshire last month, but he found her to be intelligent, and easy to talk to. She got him talking about his children, about his estate, about Darcy's childhood (although there was not much he could tell her there), and in return, she told him about Hertfordshire and her family. From there, they moved on to books, history, and to his surprise they ended up in a debate about the Odyssey. For a lady, he found Mrs Darcy to be unexpectedly well-informed about the classics.

She told him her father had simply indulged her curiosity as well as taken the time to discuss the different philosophies with her, and he had commented that her father had to be a remarkable man.

"I suppose so, yes. Certainly in some things." She smiled a little. "Actually, I get the feeling you two would get along splendidly. Did you meet him while you were in Hertfordshire?"

He shook his head. "Only briefly, I am afraid. I doubt we exchanged more than basic introductions in the crush."

"Well, maybe some other time then."

"Will your parents be joining you for the holidays?"

"I am afraid not. They have opted to celebrate the holiday season with my sister Jane and her husband, at Netherfield. I hope to welcome them here some time later in the year, when the weather and the roads are a bit better."

At that point, Darcy returned and they had a pleasant luncheon together. Hartwell inquired after Georgiana, and was surprised to learn that she had returned to town after the wedding to stay with Mrs Darcy's aunt and uncle in Gracechurch Street. Yes, they had shared lodgings at Netherfield for the wedding, and they appeared to be pleasant and genteel people, but still…?

"They are my favourite people in the world," Mrs Darcy confided. "Well, apart from Mr Darcy then. Georgie, too, took an instant liking to them this summer, and I dare say she can only benefit from my aunt's care and wisdom."

Darcy grinned. "From what we hear, she is having the time of her life. At the Gardiners' instigation, we got her some simpler dresses, and unless an introduction cannot be avoided, in the eyes of the world she passes for one of the Bennet girls staying with them. It is a revelation for her not to be fawned over by everyone she meets!"

"I can well imagine that!" Hartwell shook his head, and idly wondered what their Aunt Cathy would think of such a scheme. No doubt she would be horrified, but then again, she already seemed to be quite dismayed by Darcy's marrying anyone but her daughter, so he supposed it made little difference. In fact, he could not but admire Darcy for boldly going against every expectation placed upon him, and defying anyone who called him on it. If only he had that same courage in the face of the world...

He had no intention of staying the night however, so shortly after luncheon, Darcy and his wife followed him out into the courtyard to see him off.

"Will you be able to make it home before dark?" Mrs Darcy inquired with worry evident in her voice.

"Oh yes. The roads were good this morning, and the sky is clear. I reckon I will be home by half five."

Darcy nodded his agreement. "It is not that far to Matlock. Well, it was good to see you, Cousin. Have a safe trip back, and give my regards to the children."

"Thank you. I will."

"Yes, it was really nice getting to know you a little better," Mrs Darcy added. "I look forward to having you and your family over for the holidays next week."

"So do I." Hartwell tipped his hat. "Thank you for the hospitality today, ma'am, and I hope to see you again soon."

With a final goodbye, he rode off, and once he cleared the gate to the courtyard, Darcy turned to head back inside.

But Mrs Darcy remained standing, looking after their departing cousin with a frown. "Now what was that all about," she muttered.

"What did you say?"

She turned to him. "I am curious: why did he come here today? What did he want? It is only a week until Christmas."

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"Are you telling me he often rides over on a whim, just for a chat?!"

Darcy shrugged. "Not really. Why? Is that a problem?"

"Not necessarily. I am just curious. What could he possibly mean by it?"

"Maybe he wanted to get to know his new cousin a little better?" With a smile and a quick kiss, he hooked her hand in the crook of his arm, and began to lead her back inside.

But she scoffed at the notion. "As if he would not have the chance for that over the holidays. And why was he so interested in how we met? He even said that was his specific purpose in coming here. But why? What is it to him how we met?"

Darcy grimaced. "I don't know. Ask him."

"I will." She placed her hand over his. "He is up to something; I am sure of it. I wonder what it could be?"

.

** If you would like to know how things might have played out if Lizzy had decided to punish Darcy for his infamous 'tolerable' comment by *fawning* over him instead, I can recommend the story Rudeness and Retribution, by MorticiaYouSpokeFrench. The results of Lizzy's alternative choice of action there are hilarious!

If you can't find it in a general ffnet search, go to my profile and you will find it among the list of my favourite stories.