"What news?" I asked.
Straightening his posture, he put on a brave face and said, "So far so good. Constance reports that it will be soon. Of course she has been saying that for the last hour."
"I understand these things take time," I said, taking a seat beside him.
James nodded vaguely. "What of your sister?"
I shook my head by way of reply.
"He will find her."
"I know. But things will hardly improve once he does."
James reached out, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly. "I know you must be worried about your sister. But I feel I must remind you, spare some prayers for the safe return of the dog as well. Margaret will kill you if she doesn't get Sir Sebastian back."
I chuckled, but my laughter was empty. I knew he meant to cheer me with humor, but the fact that Lydia had absconded with Sir Sebastian made it all that much worse in my mind.
"I am rather hoping Margaret will kill me. She would save me from enduring a lifetime of seeing the disappointment in Darcy's eyes every time he looks at me."
I had not meant to spill my troubles, especially to James who must have much greater concerns at the moment, however the words flew from my lips.
"Why should Will be disappointed with you?"
"My family has brought such shame upon him. And now he will be required to pay dearly for the dishonor of calling a man he hates brother. He will try to hide it, of course—to shield me, but nothing in this world could mitigate the resentment he will feel—that any man of sensibilitymustfeel."
James, much to my surprise, laughed heartily. "I never took you for the histrionic type."
I narrowed my eyes which made him laugh all the harder.
"You really do not see it do you, my silly little niece? I must admit I was surprised myself to see him fall so quickly, but you must know—you must see."
My tolerance for riddles was nonexistent at the moment. "I must see what?" I snapped.
"You say there is nothing in the world that could soften the resentment that you imagine he will feel, but there is one thing."
I was about to ask, "What thing?" or possibly just slap that enigmatic grin off his face when a cry rang out, an infant announcing its displeasure at finding itself in a strange new world.
James stood. He took a few steps forward, as if to go to the bedchamber where his newborn child wailed, but then stepped back. For a full minute he hovered over his seat, finally he sat down only to promptly stand up again.
The door to the bedchamber swung open and Mrs. Vane entered the room. "The first is a girl," she announced.
"The first! What do you mean the first?" demanded James.
"There is at least one more," Mrs. Vane replied before returning to the room.
"At least!" He looked as though he might faint.
"A girl, a girl," he said as he fell back into his chair and slumped forward, running his hands aggressively through his hair. "At least one girl, possibly more."
"Terrible curse, daughters. A great pity that the female condition should afflict half of humanity," I said archly.
"You misunderstand me, I hold no dislike of the female sex. If I were a younger man I would have no preference for a son rather than a daughter, but as Rebecca is fond of pointing out, I am old. And it is possible—likely even, that I will not live to see my child—children grown. The world is an uncertain place for a fatherless girl."
I could not argue with such an assertion.
"The Darcys have numerous connections that might help a boy secure a profession be it in the military the church or the law, but a girl. . . . How will she chose the right husband without a father shadowing her every encounter with a young man, and threatening bodily harm to every gentleman who dares look at her?"
I laughed, which I hoped was the intended reaction. "I suppose, in the event of your absence, you must trust Rebecca's discretion. And in the meantime raise your daughter to be as sensible as possible."
