Jimmie Darcy took a deep breath, freed the botched knots on his shoe and carefully re-tied them again with shaky fingers. Go slow, he told himself, echoing his mother's words to him. Slow, slow, slow. Yes! Jimmie rocked back on his heels and surveyed the spruce little bows closing the latches of the kid leather in satisfaction. He knew he had done a good job.

He jumped up, surveyed himself in the glass, and ran to the other room to present himself to Hannah, the nursery maid, for re-inspection. He reminded himself not to fidget as he waited for her to finish sewing the seam on the baby gown as he knew it would only garner an admonishment and further waiting. Finally, she looked up, scrutinized him carefully, bid him turn around, checked his teeth, and pronounced him passable. At last! Jimmie raced out of his rooms in the nursery to Fitzy and Janey's sitting room, where he knew the cousins would be gathered.

"Slow down, young master! You will trip and fall!" Hannah called after him.

Jimmie paid her no heed. Released at last, he would brook no further delays. Who knew when the older children had woken, or what exciting endeavours they had already engaged in while he continued to sleep? Oh why did he have to stay in the nursery? The nursery was for babies.

"I am not a baby," he said under his breath, his chest puffing out with all the dignity of having lived three years and eleven months on God's green earth. "I am a big boy. I am Big Jimmie."

Big Jimmie slapped open the door to the children's sitting room with an authoritative hand, only to survey the emptiness with chagrin. They were gone! They had left without him! He ran into the schoolroom adjoining, which was empty too. Oh no! He was forgotten again. His lip quivered. He would not cry. Suddenly he heard the door swing open quietly. He looked up hopefully, but it was only one of the maids, her arms full of laundry.

"Oh, excuse me, Master Jimmie," she said.

"Anna," he said politely – It costs nothing to be polite and it may win you everything, he often heard his father say sternly to Fitzy when Fitzy was in what Mama called his "young lord of the manor" moods - "Anna, have you seen Fitzy and Janey and my cousins?"

"They woke early and the Mistress gave them permission to have breakfast on the east terrace. I believe they were talking of going fishing to-day."

His heart lurched with hope and fear. Oh, if only he was not too late! "Thank you, Anna," he said very politely, then turned and sped away.

Jimmie stumbled quickly down the stairs and ran lick-for-leather up the corridor that led to the east terrace. His swiftly pumping heart swelled with relief to hear the high-pitched voices and loud laughter coming from the terrace. He pushed open the door eagerly. Yes, they were all still there! Fitzy and Janey, and Roddy and Bessie and Valentine from Oaklands nearby, and his new cousins Franny and Georgy and Johnny from Newcastle.

"Good morning, everyone!" Jimmie sang in a loud voice despite his breathlessness. But it was as if he had not spoken. They all ignored him and continued to listen to Fitzy tell about the huge fish he had landed in the Derwent two weeks ago.

"An eleven-pound pike," he bragged. "And all by myself. He was a fighter."

"Oh, weren't you scared?" said cousin Franny, her eyes round with awe and worship.

"'Course not. I'm never scared," said Fitzy with just the right touch of scorn and kindly condescension. "Just wait and see, I'll show you how it's done."

All of the girls except for Janey cooed over Fitzy's bravery as the other boys launched into tales of their own fishing prowess and how they intended to demonstrate it that day. Jimmie raced over to Mama, who was sitting at a smaller table to the side with Aunt Bingley. Each of them was holding a baby, although Jimmie knew the tiny infant sleeping in Mama's arms belonged to Aunt Liddy. It had materialized out of nowhere two weeks ago, a week after Aunt Liddy had arrived with the cousins in a hackney coach, looking tired and sick and dusty. Their own baby, Baby Emmie, had still been asleep when he left the nursery.

"Mama," he said in a breathless undertone. "May I go? May I go fishing with Fitzy and Janey and the cousins?"

"Yes, Jimmie, of course."

Jimmie's face beamed with delight, then fell at his mother's next words.

"You may go with the mamas. As soon as Aunt Liddy is up and ready, we will follow the other children."

"Oh! No, Mama," he whispered urgently. "I cannot go with you. I must go with my cousins."

It was a disaster. Aunt Liddy always slept late and Mama said she was to sleep as long as needed. By the time she got up, the babies would need naps or feeding. Who knew when they would head out to the river? And anyway, even if they left right away, would the cousins accept him if he went with the mamas? He did not think they would.

"You are too young, sweet love. The river is low but it is still too fast for a boy your size and there are deep spots. It is too dangerous."

"But Mama! Brent and Sam will be there. I will be safe. Please, Mama, please? Please!" Brent and Sam were the footmen who often accompanied the children on their adventures.

Mama's eyes sought Aunt Bingley's, which were full of sympathy.

"Charles is sending our footman and coachman as well, Lizzy. There will be four of them to watch over the children."

Mama wavered and Jimmie thought victory was in his grasp, but then Aunt Bingley stopped bumping her knees up and down to make his baby cousin Tommy laugh and said thoughtfully:

"But I do not know if I would have let Valentine at that age. It is such a risk and it only takes a moment. Remember that poor boy from Bakewell? I will never forget it. His poor, heartbroken mother!"

Mama shuddered, then let out a small sigh. She said with regret, "I am sorry, love, you are too young. Brent and Sam and Uncle Bingley's men are excellent but they are not used to small children. They will have their hands full looking out for the other children." Then her face lit up. "Oh! What if I send Hannah with you? Hannah could keep you safe. Would you like to go with Hannah, darling?"

Jimmie shook his head vigorously. Hannah or any of the nursery maids would be worse, much worse than going with the mamas. They would not let him even touch the water. Then the new cousins would know he was a baby for sure.

"I am afraid you must have the mamas or Hannah, little love," said Mama. "I know it is hard, but we must keep you safe."

Jimmie blinked back tears.

"Come, you need your breakfast. Do you want to sit with the big boys and girls or the mamas?"

Jimmie looked at the big table where all of the cousins were sitting. They were almost finished breakfast, their plates mopped clean and Mr. Rhodes and the footmen beginning to clear their places. Fitzy and Roddy, kings of their small domain, were hurrying the other children along. They left the terrace, laughing and chattering excitedly.

"I don't care," he mumbled. He sat down at the mamas' table and slumped in his chair. Somebody gave him a plateful of food, which he ignored. Somebody else slipped a strawberry tart onto his plate, a treat usually denied until after he had eaten his vegetables. He eyed the plump, perfect strawberries glowing in the sun atop the delicately flaky golden crust and sighed and slid further down in his chair without making any move to touch them. It was going to be the worst day of his life.

How had he ever thought it would be fun for his new cousins to visit? Fitzy and Janey had been wrong. Mama, busy at the best of times, had her hands full with Aunt Liddy and her new baby. Fitzy and Janey were absorbed with their Newcastle cousins and even Roddy, his hero, did not have time for him. He was too busy showing Georgy and Johnny his dandyhorse or teaching them how to hit the ducks with his taws[1]. Jimmie knew Mama and Aunt Bingley were very proud of Fitzy and Roddy for putting smiles on Georgy and Johnny's sad faces, but he still resented them for coming.

He heard the door open and the voices of the papas as they entered the terrace. The papas were only Papa and Uncle Bingley. He knew that his Newcastle cousins had a papa but he had never met him. Mama had said he would meet him this time and must be very polite, but after Aunt Liddy arrived with just Franny and Georgy and Johnny in the hack, Mama told Jimmie he was not coming after all.

Jimmie did not know why her voice sounded so angry when she told him this, but as long as it was not at him he did not really care. Franny and Georgy and Johnny's papa was a mystery and, despite his new cousins being at Pemberley for three weeks, Jimmie knew very little about their papa for his cousins rarely talked of him.

Jimmie loved talking about his own papa, who he knew – for Mama and Mrs. Reynolds and Hannah often told him – was the kindest and handsomest man in the world. But he was also a little afraid of Papa, who was so tall with such a deep voice and who could make the servants and even Fitzy, who was nearly a grown-up boy of eight-and-a-half years old, quake on occasion. He was used to having Mama or Fitzy or Janey around when he was with Papa.

"What a picture of misery on a fine day! What is the matter, my love?" he heard Papa's voice say from far above his head.

"The children are fishing and we cannot take Jimmie yet because Emmie will be waking soon and Tommy must go down and Lydia will wake soon," Mama's voice said ruefully. "I told him he could go with Hannah, but he does not wish to."

Jimmie heard Papa's step and saw Papa's shiny boot approach his chair and he struggled to sit up straight in fear. Was he going to get a talking-to like Fitzy? He could not stand it on top of everything else. He watched in trepidation as Papa's great knees bent and his long body folded down. He wanted to cry a warning when he saw one of Papa's knees touch the cold ground of the terrace but remembered that Papa did not have a nurse to scold him for ruining his trousers. Catch anyone daring to scold Papa! Except for Mama, but that usually made Papa smile.

"What is the matter, Jimmie Boy?" said Papa. His face was now at Jimmie's height, and his brown eyes bored into Jimmie's own. Jimmie swallowed nervously and looked up at Mama, who nodded her head encouragingly at him.

"The new cousins," Jimmie faltered.

"Has someone been unkind to you?"

"No," said Jimmie in a small voice, feeling a flutter of fear in his belly at the stern note that had crept into Papa's voice. "But they went without me. And yesterday I had to go to bed while they sat up by the fire outside."

"That is because you are too young to stay up, Jimmie Boy. You need to sleep so you can grow up to be a big boy like Fitzy."

"But they always go without me."

Papa looked up questioningly at Mama, who said, "Not really. They are very sweet children, and even a little timid, poor things. But Jimmie missed feeding the ducks the day before yesterday because he fell asleep after luncheon."

"And they went riding without me the day before that!" Jimmie said hotly.

"But Jimmie, you know you are not allowed in the woods yet, some of the paths are too steep–" Mama said, then subsided at Papa's shake of his head.

"Well, why not go with Hannah, then, Jimmie? She will take you immediately."

"No! Not Hannah!" Jimmie gulped when he saw Papa's eyebrows fly up. "If I go with Hannah, the new cousins will think I am only a baby." He felt the tears flood his eyes at the sadness of his plight and he wiped his cheeks with a chubby fist.

"Well, you are only three years old, little love-" Mama said with a tender laugh in her voice, but stopped again at Papa's look.

"Hm. So Hannah does not work and you cannot wait for the mamas. What about me?"

"You?" Jimmie looked in astonishment at Papa.

"Yes, me." Papa's brown eyes twinkled. "I am quite a good fisherman, you know. I could show you how to tie a horsehair fly."

"Like the one that Fitzy used to catch the pike?"

"The very same. But it is a family secret, so you must not show it to anyone else."

"I can keep a secret!" said Jimmie in excitement.

"But do you and Charles not have a county meeting to attend today?" Mama asked Papa.

"Charles will make my excuses. Right, Bingley?"

"Not by half, Darcy. If you are skipping out of a county meeting to go fishing, you can expect me to do the same."

Was he going to arrive at the river with two papas? Jimmie wriggled with excitement. He could see the envious looks from Fitzy and Roddy already.

"Will the men be disappointed if you and Fitzwilliam do not attend, Charles?" asked Aunt Bingley.

Uncle Bingley shrugged. "Perhaps, but I will invite them shooting this week and they can fill us in then. That will make them happy. I will send a messenger with our excuses." He winked at Jimmie. "Besides, my life is not all county duties. I have uncle duties too, you know."

Mama's face glowed with joy as she looked at Papa and Uncle Bingley. "Thank you, Fitzwilliam and Charles!"

"Yes, the children will be so delighted," said Aunt Bingley in her soft, warm voice. "And it will be lovely for Franny and Georgy and Johnny to see how real fathers conduct themselves."

"Well," Papa twinkled at Jimmie. "It is not every day gentlemen may abandon their responsibilities and their wives to go fishing and be lauded for it. Now finish breakfast like a good boy and we will be going."

Jimmie ate the luscious strawberry tart in three bites and gulped down his milk.

"Slow, slow, slow, Jimmie!" said Mama happily.

Jimmie beamed at his Mama, giving her a milky, sticky smile. It was going to be the best day of his life.

[1] Ducks are little marbles and taws are big marbles. There is no animal cruelty in this tale except to the fish.