Pemberley in high summer was a balm to the soul. The frantic energy of London sloughed away, replaced by the deep, resonant peace of the land. Alexander, back on his own turf, was a boy transformed, his laughter once again echoing freely through the halls.
Yet, the London trip had left its mark, a subtle c***k in their idyllic foundation. It was a reminder that their world was not entirely their own to command, that the pressures and expectations of the society they largely shunned still existed, waiting at the periphery.
This c***k was tested from an unexpected direction. A letter arrived from Charles and Jane Bingley. It was not its usual cheerful self. Jane’s words, while ever gentle, hinted at a strain. Charles’s sister, Caroline, recently and somewhat disadvantageously married to a
