Author's note for any new readers: previously, as a gesture to my readers during a long break in my publishing, I published a little snippet from further down the story – a snippet from the infamous seed mentioned at the end of chapter 4. That is what all those June reviews (about Philip and Girardaux) for chapter 5 talk about. Please disregard those now; the temporary snippet has been removed, and we are back to publishing things in the proper order. So this is the real chapter 5!

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It was a merry party that greeted them at Pemberley. It turned out that the company from London had already arrived the night before, and they were happily welcoming them along with Darcy and his wife.

Richard was there, immediately having a romp with Henry. Those two had always gotten along well.

Mrs Darcy's aunt and uncle Mr and Mrs Gardiner were there, with their four children, and Ginny and the eldest Gardiner girl immediately rekindled the friendship they had been forming in Hertfordshire last month.

And there was Miss Kitty Bennet, one of Mrs Darcy's sisters – a pretty young girl who seemed to be rather timid in the face of his title, and who seemed to be looking to Georgiana for guidance in how to deal with a real life lord. He would try and put the girl at ease later, but it did confirm his suspicion that Mrs Darcy's many sisters were simply too young to be considered as a possible wife.

He briefly reintroduced Miss Kenway (everyone present had met her at Netherfield as well), and a maid was summoned to take her to the housekeeper to be shown to the nursery.

And since it was about time for luncheon, they all crowded to the dining-room, where a delicious spread was laid out. There was no stiffness or awkwardness; everyone was getting along splendidly, and many a laugh rolled along the table as they ate.

With seven children in attendance, it was bound to be a bit boisterous, but like at Netherfield last month, Hartwell noticed that the Gardiner children were perfectly well-behaved. Their parents, too, reinforced his earlier impression of gentility. Well, so much the better. Talking Ginny out of a blossoming friendship with a girl her own age would be nigh on impossible anyway.

Philip on the other hand stuck closely by him. He seemed a bit intimidated in the face of so many semi-strangers. A simple hint to Georgiana however had her lure him away to the music room, and they did not resurface until teatime – with Philip beaming.

"She is good!" he breathed in absolute awe. "And guess what: she has promised to teach me while we are here!"

Georgiana coloured a little under his praise, but Hartwell nodded his appreciation. "Thank you."

"He plays very well himself, too," she returned the compliment.

"I have never had such a good teacher as her," Philip declared.

"Oh dear." Hartwell chuckled. "Has Miss Kenway served her turn now?"

Philip pondered that for a moment. "Not for other things, I guess," he extenuated. "But with everything that Aunt Georgie can teach me, I should be giving piano lessons to Miss Kenway when we get home!"

"I see." His father nodded. "I suppose we had better find you a proper piano master then when we get home."

Philip's eyes widened. "A real piano master?! Just for me?"

"Well, you may have to share him with Ginny."

Philip scoffed. "Ginny doesn't need a real piano master. It will be years before she comes anywhere near Miss Kenway's level."

Hartwell raised a chastising eyebrow. "If that is your attitude towards your sister, young man, then you are not ready for a piano master either."

Philip almost literally jumped in alarm. "I apologize, Papa," he squeaked wide-eyed.

"Remember what we talked about last week?"

Philip nodded quickly.

"That is just as valid here as it is at home. So watch your tongue, my boy!"

The days that followed passed very pleasantly for everyone. There were of course all the seasonal games and traditions, with some additional ones from the Bennets and the Gardiners thrown in. Everyone soon discovered that most of those activities were even more fun in a larger group, so the days passed very merrily.

The company was excellent, and was soon completely at ease with each other, as if they all had been lifelong friends. Hartwell noticed he often gravitated towards the Gardiners, being of a similar age and the only ones in the party who – like himself – had children of their own. He found the couple both intelligent and well-informed, and he very much enjoyed their discussions and their company.

It helped of course that the younger generation was well entertained. Richard especially was great with the children. (Honestly, it was high time his brother settled down and had some of his own!) He led the youngest ones on exciting expeditions around the house, pretending to explore Africa, the Indies, the Amazon jungle, the Pacific and the Russian steppes, and one very cold day, the troop braved the outdoors for a make-believe trek to the south pole.

Being the eldest of the children, yet the only one without a natural playmate in the group, Henry often joined them in the role of expedition leader, so he could at least enjoy the company of his favourite uncle.

The four girls in their teens made for a close-knit little group, either as a quartet or in two pairs, but always full of laughter, chitchat, giggles and whispered secrets.

Hartwell saw it with pleasure. Growing up as she did in a family of men, his Ginny did not have much exposure to the fashionable pastimes of her sex. It had been quite early on that he had delegated that part of her upbringing entirely to her governess, which of course was not exactly ideal. But never having had a sister himself, and a mother he had but rarely seen, he felt way out of his depth in the more feminine aspects of his daughter's education. It always caused him some guilt when he was sharing a boy's pleasures with his sons, but apart from including Ginny whenever he could, there was nothing really he could do about it.

Yes, she did have a few friends among the children of Matlock's staff. But those girls were approaching the age of taking up a position themselves, and he knew from his own boyhood experience that nothing killed a friendship faster than when one party needs to start serving the other. For that reason alone, it was good for Ginny to spend some time with girls more from her own class. He was relieved to see that she had no trouble fitting in: the girls styled and restyled each other's hair again and again, and disappeared for hours on end trying on each other's dresses.

They also spent many an hour trimming bonnets. Miss Bennet had a deft hand at the art and was more than happy to teach the others. And although the thought of altering a bonnet clearly had never occurred to Georgiana before, she generously provided them all with bonnets from her own collection to tear apart and make up anew. According to Darcy, she had hundreds of them anyway, so it was no great sacrifice on her part.

And if it was not bonnet trimming, the girls wanted to dance. Ginny and Rosalie Gardiner were eager to learn, Miss Bennet and Georgiana equally eager to teach, but they needed someone to play the pianoforte for them, as well as a few male counterparts to properly make the figures. Fortunately, Richard and the eldest Gardiner boy Julian were happy enough to oblige them when they were home from their hair-raising expeditions, and more than once, Ginny talked her poor father into joining as well.

The pianoforte was a bit more difficult to staff. As one of the teachers, Georgiana was needed on the dance floor. So Philip was the first to be chartered to play for them, but he quickly got bored playing the same sequences a hundred times in a row. Mrs Darcy could always be relied upon to oblige them for half an hour or so, but when she was needed elsewhere, Ginny invariably ran off to fetch Miss Kenway to help them out.

The big surprise in the dancing lessons was Henry. At first he had scoffed at the idea, but after a day or two he suddenly changed his mind and joined them at every opportunity. Hartwell wondered what had caused his sudden interest, but decided not to question it. It was doubtful after all whether his son would have many such opportunities to learn to dance in company, so he certainly was not going to risk discouraging him with questions that might easily make the boy either self-conscious or embarrassed – or both.

And in between, he keenly watched Darcy and his young wife. As Richard had once put it: Darcy generally preferred holing up in a cave for a month to going to a party. But not so now: he seemed to genuinely enjoy himself, even with so many people around him, and he was the perfect host. Was that the influence of his wife, who seemed to be of the type to enjoy being around people?

It was fascinating to watch them. They still seemed to be as much in love as ever, as their frequent stolen touches and even kisses witnessed. If only he could figure out what made their love tick…!

But the morning after Boxing Day, there was a knock at his door.

"Come," he called while tying his cravat in front of the looking glass.

It was Darcy. A rather brusque Darcy. "Can I have a word with you?"

"Of course." He picked up his coat. "What is the matter?"

Darcy narrowed his eyes. "My wife tells me you have been staring at her quite a lot these past days."

Hartwell froze.

"And I want to know what you are about!"

He carefully let go of his breath. 'Stay calm,' he told himself.

So he slowly put down his coat on a chair and took a deep breath before facing his justifiably irate cousin. "I know what you are thinking, Darcy," he said as gently as he could. "But you also know that I would never do such a thing to a man."

Darcy's flashing eyes wavered; then he looked away. "My apologies."

Hartwell shook his head. "No. I am the one who should apologize. I am sorry to have made Mrs Darcy uncomfortable. It won't happen again; I promise."

To his relief, he saw his cousin relax somewhat. "Then why were you staring at her? I must warn you: Georgiana noticed it, too, and who knows who else."

He closed his eyes for a second, and clenched his fists. He was not ready to… But how could he refuse to explain himself? "Darcy, can I rely on your secrecy?"

A puzzled frown was all he got.

"I owe you an explanation, yes, but it is something I would rather not have bandied about."

Darcy nodded, suddenly looking rather worried. "Your word is safe with me."

A deep breath, and… "I am… considering remarriage."

Darcy's eyes widened. "You are?! To whom?"

"No one in particular yet; so far, I am merely toying with the idea."

"Oh." A frown. "So…?"

"Seeing you and Mrs Darcy together was what sparked the idea. You two seem to be so deliriously happy together, that… Are you?" he interrupted himself.

Darcy merely nodded, a vague blush of happiness suffusing his face.

Hartwell had a pained smile. "I am happy for you both, I really am, but…" Another deep breath. "I want what you are having. But I haven't got a clue how to go about that. So I was observing you – both of you – in the hope of unravelling your secret."

Darcy's face softened. "It is quite simple really. I love her with all my heart, and she loves me."

"But how did you get to that point? How did you even know?!" He started to pace in frustration. "I would love to have what you are having, Darce, but I am scared. Scared to death that I might end up with another Agnes. I am not sure I dare to take that risk again – unless I can figure out how to determine… well, you know." He turned back to face his cousin. "Have you ever longed for something with all your heart, while at the same time being terrified of actually getting it?"

Darcy nodded, and smiled a little. "I was like that with Elizabeth at first. Mrs Darcy, I mean. She had totally bewitched me, but since I considered her too far beneath me, that scared me out of my wits! On the one hand, I wanted her as I have never wanted anything in my life. And at the same time, I wanted to run from her charms as far and as fast as my legs could carry me." He chortled softly. "And look where it got me, eh? I am the happiest of men!"

Hartwell bit his lip. "I envy you, Cousin," he said after a short pause. "You are a lucky man. But please convey my apologies to Mrs Darcy. Tell her I shall do my utmost to keep my eyes under good regulation."

Darcy nodded. "May I tell her what you told me?"

Hartwell grimaced. "Of course. I already expected you to relay the explanation for my behaviour to her, so… Do you trust her? To keep it to herself, I mean?"

"Utterly and completely."

The sheer confidence with which he stated that… Amazing!

He was hardly surprised when Mrs Darcy sought him out in semi-solitude before breakfast.

"Cousin Hartwell?"

"Yes?" He blushed, and bowed reverently. "Good morning, Mrs Darcy."

She beamed a smile at him, clearly intent upon setting him at ease. "I hope you are well this morning?"

"I am indeed, ma'am. And how are you?"

"Very well, thank you." She took his arm and led him a little further away from the others. "My husband passed on your apologies, and explained a few things to me."

About Agnes no doubt.

"And I just wanted to assure you that I understand. So please do not distress yourself on my account. I bear you no ill will."

"Thank you, ma'am. And I am sorry; I really should have…"

"Now none of that!" she playfully chided. "For I am actually flattered! I think it the most wonderful thing in the world that our love could be such an inspiration for others!"

He laughed a little. "Well, if you look at it like that…"

"I most certainly do. But you must promise me something."

"Yes?"

"You have my personal permission to observe us as much as you want, provided you do it with a little more discretion. After all, we would not want to excite talk."

He nodded.

"But you must promise to share your findings with me once you have figured out how this love-thing works. For much as I love it, between you and me, I find it utterly baffling!"

He chuckled. "I will. Promise."

"Good." She turned serious again. "But to return to your own dilemma, I just want to urge you not to give up hope. Not every young lady is like your late wife. There are many honest and genuine young ladies out there who care little about your title and your riches; who just wish for a faithful and loving husband and a good home."

He had a wry smirk. "Could you perhaps send a few my way?"

She pondered that for a moment. "Well, if we had met last year, I would happily have introduced you to my best friend Charlotte, but unfortunately, she got married earlier this year. A shame really, for I think you two would have suited very well. Better than... Never mind, 'tis too late in any case. But if I think of anyone else, I will send you word express. Actually…" She sobered. "Maybe the best advice I can give you is to discuss the matter with my aunt."

"Mrs Gardiner?"

She nodded. "My mother unfortunately is not the kind of person to consult in matters of the heart. For that, my sister and I relied entirely on our Aunt Gardiner. I don't know how she does it, for she never tells you what to do, but somehow, she has the ability to help you sort out your feelings until you see a clear path before you. So perhaps she might be able to help you, too."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you. I will consider it."