"They are the loveliest babies I've ever seen," I replied.
"If the second had been a boy I would have named them Viola and Sebastian. Mr. Shakespeare'sTwelfth Night, you know. But since they are both girls I've decided to call them Luna and Estella."
I thought it rather fortuitous the second had been a girl, another Sebastian was hardly needed.
James looked down at his daughters with some consternation. "Do you not think those names a bit exotic? A little too Continental? Darcys usually prefer more traditional names."
Rebecca laughed and stretched out her arms gesturing for James to return the babies to her. Once they were in place she said to them, "Do you hear that, my darling girls? Your silly father thinks he gets and opinion."
Twenty-Five
6thJanuary, 1812
Afternoon
"Darcy," I said as I jolted awake. My mind was fuzzy, still half slumbering. I had been dreaming of . . . what had I been dreaming of?
Something brushed my cheek. "Darcy," I repeated. He really was there. I caught his hand and pulled him to me, his lips were half way to mine before I realized what I was about. I was angry with him. Or perhaps he was angry with me.
I released him, looking away to break the hold of his gaze. In turning my head I noticed how stiff my neck was. My favored chair in the library was comfortable enough for reading, but was certainly not suitable for napping.
Darcy straightened, he seemed abashed as if he had been the one to demand kisses and then spurn them at the last moment. "Sorry to wake you," he said.
"Not at all, I had not intended to sleep here," I replied.
His demeanor told me everything I needed to know. He had not found her. I took in the state of him. He had put on a clean coat and shirt, but dark crescents beneath his eyes, his bruised knuckles, the smell of the streets which hung about him, belied his refreshed state.
I was not yet ready to face the question of Lydia so I said, "You have two new cousins."
"Yes, I've seen them." The smile these words brought to his lips faded as quickly as it arrived.
He crossed the room to stand in front of the fireplace. I could not see his face but I knew he would be staring into the flames broodily, jaw set in that serious manner which indicated he was thinking deeply. I knew whatever he had to tell me was going to be painful. I did not prompt him though I wanted to.
At long last he turned back to me and said, "I've found Wickham."
"They are married?" I asked, dreading his confirmation.
Darcy shook his head.
"What are his demands?" That they were not yet married was not entirely unexpected. Wickham would wish to extract the highest payment possible prior to saying any vows.
"Nothing. He lost her."
"Helosther?"
"Sir Sebastian bit him, so he threw him out of the carriage. Lydia went after him."
"Lydia jumped out of a moving carriage to pursue a dog?" I asked incredulously. I had know she was foolish, but this exceeded my expectations of her idiocy. She might have broken her neck.
"So it would seem."
"And you have not found her?"
"No, I am sorry. I hired runners—they are searching for her as we speak."
His words were not as comforting as they should have been. Sheltered as I was, I knew there were parts of London if one went down the wrong alley one might never be seen again. Especially if one was a silly, gently-bred girl.
"Where was she last seen?"
