In the Arms of Mr. Darcy

Chapter One Relative Invasion

Meryton, located roughly one hundred fifty miles to the south of Pemberley in Derbyshire and nestled in the pastoral valleys of Hertfordshire, was experiencing an atypical cold spell for this winter of 1817. Snow had not yet fallen and it was warmer than the northern counties, but beyond a doubt, winter had descended with a vengeance not seen in years. Whatever the facts, weather or otherwise, none of the inhabitants of the modest manor known as Longbourn took note. All energies were either focused on preparations for the trip to Pemberley or avoiding said preparations.

Mrs. Bennet had been in a barely controlled dither since her springtime trip to Darcy House in London. She was further incited by Kitty’s gushing descriptions of Pemberley, after her daughter’s return from visiting there in August. Despite her incessant declarations to anyone listening of the great wealth that her second daughter married into, the woman of humble means had no true concept of such a life. The subdued opulence of Darcy House had amazed her, and based on the picture painted by Kitty, Pemberley promised to be vastly superior. Frankly, she was overwhelmed at the concept and her infamous nerves were on high alert—for justifiable reasons this time.

Between Mary’s wedding planning, the Christmas vacation arrangements, and his wife’s histrionics, Mr. Bennet found himself retreating to the solitude of his study more and more to evade the frenzy. He merely wanted to see his favored daughter and new grandson, enjoy the pleasure of good company, and lose himself in the library. Inconsequentials, such as fashionable clothing and haircuts, were of no interest.

Transportation to Derbyshire had not actually occurred to him as an issue. His plan was simply to utilize the landau, and if five persons proved a bit snug, all better to maintain warmth! The arrival of the luxurious Darcy coach two days before their scheduled departure, with an obviously carefully worded letter from Lizzy, explaining its purpose with her natural humor, brought a smile to his face. The rationale was of no real importance to the practical gentleman. He instantly recognized the advantage and was pleased, not only for the reasons delineated by his darling daughter, but also for the comfort afforded his old bones. It never crossed his mind to be offended. Besides, Mrs. Bennet’s theatrics would have effectively smothered any sensations of insult had they come to mind.

“Such a fine, fine carriage it is!” she gushed. “What a marvelous gentleman he is to be sure! Married our Lizzy when surely no one else would likely have her, always far too independent and sharp-tongued for her own good. Truly a wondrous gentleman, so generous and kind, is he not Mr. Daniels?”

Mr. Daniels’s agreeing reply, the hundredth or so such offered since departing Longbourn, was lost in the continuing rambles of his future mother-in-law. Mary’s gentle smile and soft eyes met his, giving the flummoxed young man the inner strength necessary to deal with the situation. His weekly visits to Mary since her departure from London had given him the opportunity to become acquainted with his soon-to-be family. As Darcy before him, Mr. Daniels was baffled at how the demure, proper young woman who was his fiancée had arisen from such a family. Mr. Bennet was quieter than his wife, but with a clever wit and penetrating gaze not possessed by his middle daughter. In all ways, Mary was an enigma in the Bennet clan, far more than Lizzy ever had been.

Joshua Daniels counted himself a fortunate man indeed, the antics of the Bennets notwithstanding. His betrothed was a steady young lady, prim, stoic, and fairly humorless; but intelligent, kind, and warm. Since these were character traits identical to Mr. Daniels, the two were well matched. Both approached their union with logic and sensibleness, emotion only a dim part of the decision initially. That there was a physical attraction was obvious to them both, but to say it was a raging passion would be erroneous. Their innocent and balanced natures did not lend well to consideration of such things. However, as the long weeks of their engagement unfolded, both began to sense the stirrings of something stronger; emotions that simmered far under the skin as they gradually took tender liberties with chaste kisses and hand touching. This excursion to Pemberley, as painful as it was for the decorous solicitor to reside as a guest in a client’s home, would be an eye-opener. The extended period of time the couple would spend together, often inadvertently alone as people came and went about the enormous manor, as well as witnessing the blatant if constrained demonstrations of affection between their hosts, would enlighten them to the greater riches possibly uncovered in a passionate marriage. Without giving too much away, it is safe to conclude that Mary and Joshua would have a fulfilling marriage in all ways.

This, of course, was in the future. For now, they all persevered for the ride. It rained and snowed intermittently as they traveled, but the sturdily built coach, with thick walls, window shades, rugs, and compartments for heated bricks, made for a fairly comfortable journey. By the afternoon of the second day, as they rumbled through Matlock, the clouds broke and sleety rains ceased. The sun peeked through the gaps, offering no warmth of any significance, but casting eye-blinding tendrils of illumination over the glittering snow blanketing the fields.

It was Kitty who recognized the hamlet of Lambton, familiar from afternoon shopping trips with Georgiana. “Oh! This is Lambton, Papa. It means we are very close! Just a few miles and across the river is Pemberley!”

Lizzy had instructed Mr. Anders to approach from the north rather than the slightly shorter southern avenue veering from Beeley. She would never forget her initial view of Pemberley, as seen from the bridge crossing the River Derwent: the mansion sitting proudly amid the gardens and fountains, ringed to the rear by vast forests, the main façade a breathtaking vision of Darcy heritage and prestige.

The coachman slowed on the bridge, allowing the occupants to gaze lingeringly as well as permitting word of their arrival to reach Mr. Darcy from the unseen sentry he knew was waiting. By the time the carriage drove under the massive stone and vine swathed archway and halted before the portico, the Bennets and Mr. Daniels were silent with awe.

Darcy stood under the entry, commanding and formal, with Dr. George Darcy to his left, wearing a broad, welcoming grin. Georgiana, hair regally arranged and dressed in a lovely gown of pale blue velvet, stood to his right.

Mary and Kitty enthusiastically greeted Georgiana, Darcy’s welcoming speech lost in the flurry.

“Mrs. Bennet, how utterly delightful it is to see you again.” George approached the spellbound woman, bowing with a roguish flair and offering his arm. “If I may be so bold? I am quite certain there is a lovely young lady lurking in the foyer with an incredibly cute baby in her arms. I had the honor of delivering this infant you know, first to lay eyes on his beauty, as it were. Of course, the real work was accomplished by your daughter, William having some input here and there…”

His voice trailed off as he led the bemused woman into the painted foyer. Darcy looked at Mr. Bennet, smiling faintly at the silently laughing older gentleman. “Mr. Daniels, welcome to Pemberley. Please, gentlemen, let us retire to the parlor where it is warm and refreshments are waiting. I should warn you, Mr. Daniels,” he said with a chuckle as the three entered the house, “it is likely you shall discover attention from your fiancée slowly forthcoming for a day or two until female conversation is exhausted. Word of wisdom from an experienced husband given free of charge.”

Mr. Bennet laughed aloud, Mr. Daniels blushing.

Lizzy stood at the top of the grand staircase, dressed in a gorgeous gown of brown chenille, a huge smile lighting her entire being, and Alexander nestled in her arms. The proud smile Darcy could in no way prevent lit his face. The two sisters, escorted by Georgiana, were mounting the stairs toward Lizzy. Mrs. Bennet, on the arm of Dr. Darcy, was captivated in open-mouthed scrutiny of the ceiling and carvings abundant in the enormous two-story entryway, momentarily forgetting both daughter and grandson.

The waiting duo disappeared in a mass of flowing skirts and reaching arms, the chatter and exclamations of marvel rising to the rafters. Lizzy’s merry laughter lifted above the fray until Mrs. Bennet caught sight of her daughter among the general splendor and her shrill outcry drowned all.

“Oh, Lizzy! How adorable he is! Let me hold my grandson! Hello sweet baby, I am your grandmamma. Well done Lizzy, birthing a male as I recommended. The heir to Pemberley to please Mr. Darcy. And such a healthy boy he is, yes indeed. Someday all this will be yours, you lucky little dear.”

Lizzy cringed, glancing into Darcy’s pained visage at the bottom of the stairs. “Papa,” she spoke firmly to her father, cutting through her mother’s proclamations. “Come meet your grandson.”

Mr. Bennet had anticipated this moment with moderate enthusiasm. He was happy for Lizzy and her husband, but he had not expected to be unduly moved by a tiny person with presumably no personality or ability to interact.

What a shock it was to the elderly gentleman when his eyes locked with Alexander’s! The seventeen-day-old infant was awake and alert. Grandfather and grandson connected gazes, and then Alexander stretched out one wobbly hand as he wiggled and released the newborn version of a giggle.

Mr. Bennet was in love, utterly and completely head over heels. His eyes misted and he gruffly cleared his throat while extending the tip of an index finger to stroke the soft fist. “Handsome chap, Lizzy. Quite attentive and serious, like his father, yet with a hint of humor, like you. Fine addition to the family, I daresay.”

Lizzy was beaming, her immeasurable pride in her son now increased by the obvious effect he had on her relatives. She laid her hand on her father’s arm, drawing his gaze to her, and lifting to kiss his cheek. “Come inside the parlor, Papa, and relax with a brandy, then you can hold him.”

Darcy had observed the unfolding drama with widely divergent emotions. Like his wife, his pride in their son was infinite. He truly considered Alexander the most perfect baby in the entire world and was, therefore, not the least bit surprised at the instantaneous affection. The negative was the epiphany, foolishly not deliberated upon prior, that he would quite probably have to physically evict his child from someone’s arms if he wished to hold him! It was not a pleasant idea and the scowl that threatened to overtake his countenance was fought with all the power at his disposal. Plainly put, Darcy was ragingly jealous! An unattractive emotion to be sure, but there it was.

He entered the parlor last, Lizzy already placing Alexander into her father’s arms. Mrs. Bennet had moved away without a backward glance and was strolling about the room, examining with a keen, covetous eye. George was positioned near the three younger ladies, charming unabashedly. Mr. Daniels stood apart by the window in an uncomfortable pose familiar to the anti-social Darcy. He approached the poor man with a smile.

“Mr. Daniels, what is your preference? Brandy or whiskey, or perhaps wine?”

“Do not trouble yourself, sir.”

“It is no trouble at all,” Darcy assured him, motioning to a footman. “I shall have a brandy, as will Mr. Bennet I am certain. A whiskey for Dr. Darcy, and Mr. Daniels…?”

“Whiskey then, with thanks,” he said in a small voice, face flushing.

“Excellent! Tell me, Mr. Daniels, how fares your father and brother?” Steering the conversation to general subjects, drinks easing the tension, Mr. Daniels began to calm. Darcy attended to the dialogue while keeping an eye on Mr. Bennet, who was grinning widely as he held Alexander and talked quietly with his daughter. Lizzy glanced to her husband, radiant in her happiness, and blew him a tiny kiss.

Darcy winked, the feelings of jealousy waning gradually in the warmth of Elizabeth’s face. His musings were abruptly interrupted by Mrs. Bennet, who he had not noted was nearby.

“Mr. Darcy, Pemberley is magnificent! Surely it must be the finest house in all of Derbyshire? I cannot imagine anything to supplant it. How proud you must be! And to think my little Lizzy is mistress of all this. I would not have thought her capable!”

“I can assure you, madam, that your daughter is eminently capable of handling anything. She is fearless, wise, and extraordinarily accomplished. Far and away the best mistress Pemberley has been blessed with in decades.”

Any further rebuttals were halted by a loud infant squeal from the sofa. Lizzy was laughing at the surprised expression on her father’s face.

“Am I squeezing him too tightly, Lizzy?”

“No, Papa. Alexander is quite demanding when he requires nourishment. A trait inherited from his father, I do believe.” She glanced to Darcy with a grin, her husband crossing to the sofa.

“I would not be too hasty in that assessment, Lizzy, as I recall a young girl who inhaled her food the sooner to return to the play yard or a favored novel.”

“Be that as it may, let me take my little wiggler from you before he displays the full lung capacity at his disposal. Come my darling, save your grandpapa’s ears and let me feed you.”

“Lizzy, can you not have the nanny take him?” Mrs. Bennet asked. “I was hoping for a tour of the house!”

“I am afraid it shall have to wait, Mama, until Alexander is satisfied. Once he is asleep, I will be happy to show you and Papa around.”

Mrs. Bennet was staring at her daughter in shock. “Surely you do not…? That is, is there not a wet-nurse for the baby?”

“No, Mama. I prefer to care for our son’s sustenance myself. Excuse me, Papa,” she kissed her father’s cheek, rising with a fussy Alexander sucking on her little finger.

George breezed in airily. “Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bennet, I would be delighted to escort you both, and the young ladies and Mr. Daniels, on a tour of the manor. If I may be so arrogant, I am quite sure that I am acquainted with the house to a degree surpassing its most superb mistress. After all, I did grow up here and even know the attic corners and hidden passageways.”

“Oh, how exciting!” Kitty exclaimed. “Will you show us the secret passages, Dr. Darcy?”

“Alas, my dear Miss Kitty, my decrepit bones would probably break if I attempted to squeeze into narrow confines. Georgiana can don an old dress at a later date and lead you on an adventure.”

“Uncle!” Georgiana cried, face rosy. “I have no knowledge of such places!”

“Of course not, my dear, of course not.” He winked at Darcy while lending an arm to Mrs. Bennet and Miss Kitty, voice booming in narration as the group filed out. “There is a rather remarkable portrait of my brothers and me, dashing gents all, in the gallery…”

Darcy and Lizzy were left alone with their momentarily placated baby. “William, I am sorry for Mama’s words. Are you disturbed?”

Darcy smiled, bending to kiss her lips gently. “It is of no moment, my dearest. Shall I accompany you to the nursery?”

“Thank you, but no. Join our guests, offering your unique perspective on the wonders of Pemberley. Somewhere in the middle, you can divert my father in the library and enjoy a time of well-deserved solitude. I love you, Mr. Darcy.”

“I love you, Mrs. Darcy. And you too, my precious little love.” He bent to kiss Alexander’s cheek, again kissing his wife. Then with a roll of his eyes heavenward, a tug on his jacket, and a theatric sigh, he exited to follow the echoing rumble of George and the giggles of amused women.

With Christmas just over a week and a half away, winter set in with a vengeance and snow blanketed the ground and vegetation, the entire surrounds bathed in glistening crystals. The larger lakes and ponds enriched with fountains provided breaks in the monotony of white, the handful of winter blooms and evergreen trees lending color, and the shoveled drives and pathways provided clarity and contour. The vivid blue of the sky was frequently obscured by clouds, most grey and threatening. The usual hectic movements of wildlife and humans noted throughout the river valley and bordering forests during fairer weather were essentially gone. Naturally, there were still chores to be done by bundled groundsmen, horses to exercise by jacketed grooms, and the few brave winter fowl, deer, and tiny rodents searching for food to disturb the placid winter scenery.

Pemberley was decorated more lavishly than last year, the maids, footmen, groundsmen, and even the senior staff apparently wholly liberated by the joyous atmosphere over the past year. Twelve short months was all that was required to expunge the years of sadness. They had seemingly denuded the forest of holly, mistletoe, pine boughs, and any other greenery remotely Christmassy, draping every balcony, windowsill, banister, fireplace mantel, and alcove. Darcy’s jest about mistletoe ornaments proved accurate, with balls at every corridor junction and dangling from each ceiling light and threshold. All the heirloom decorations were in place, as well as a sprinkling of others that had been unearthed while rummaging through the attic for baby furnishings. There were three times as many candles strewn about the manor and grounds with several dozen torches placed throughout the gardens.

One corner of the parlor was cleared and draped with yards of gold and silver edged red velvet, onto which was arranged a plethora of brightly wrapped and ribboned presents. Pine branches decorated with tiny candles further adorned the area. The entire parlor furnishings were shuffled to provide more room, so supplementary sofas and chairs obtained from other chambers could provide more sitting room. Both dining rooms were sumptuously adorned, and the ballroom was polished to gleaming. Instruments were tuned, fireplaces were scrubbed, and chimneys swept, vases of fresh flowers were abundant, lamps were filled, windows were cleaned, patios and walkways were freed of all debris, and scented potpourris were everywhere.

While the servants unleashed their creativity with greenery and ornaments, Lizzy and Mrs. Reynolds had organized the menus and entertainments. The huntsmen, including Darcy a time or two, had provided the main staples for the dietary fare. Desserts of all varieties from basic pies and cakes to elegant pastries and meringues were created. Mrs. Langton and her superb staff could be trusted to whip up an array of tasty dishes and treats to augment the main courses.

The game room was set with extra card tables, a second dart board, Hazard dice, and a domino set of ivory, acquired while in Great Yarmouth, to augment the chess, backgammon, cribbage, and draughts tables already in place. In anticipation that the freeze and snows would escalate, ten pairs of skates were bought and the existing ones sharpened, the curling stones and brooms were brought from storage, and sleds were inspected for safety.

Darcy’s prized shovillaborde, a table version of the popular deck game shuffleboard, was polished and placed prominently to the right of the two billiard tables in the billiard room. Two years prior, Darcy had discovered the table in an auction house, thrilled beyond belief and paying an outrageous sum for the one-hundred-year-old relic fashioned after the boards favored by King Henry VIII.

An enormous, wooden floored room on the northern wing near the conservatory was dedicated to various indoor sports. The room had evolved over the decades, from what was originally designed as a smaller ballroom into a second game room. It did not have an actual name, usually being referred to as The Court due to the enormous netted court for tennis and the area by one wall for racquets. The floor was polished and new equipment purchased, including battledores and shuttlecocks for the game of the same name raging through London. The sunny chamber with wide curtain-less windows and a ceiling partially of glass additionally boasted a ninepin alley, shuffleboard deck, a miniature putting green with five holes, a quoits pin, and hopscotch squares.

Added together, it seemed a certainty that Christmas at Pemberley would be a raging success.

The emotions flowing through Darcy and Lizzy regarding the season varied, but one emotion absolutely shared was the priority in protecting Alexander. Darcy refused to allow his still recovering wife and fragile child to overextend, the very thought of them becoming ill sending frigid chills deep into the marrow of his bones. With typical Darcy dominance and severity, he bluntly reminded Lizzy that he would be in charge and would expect her to obey his orders in all matters. Lizzy flared in irritation briefly, but then laughed, Darcy frowning and preparing to puff intimidatingly, only to deflate and calm when she assured him she agreed and would bow to his will.

As it turned colder, Lizzy fretted constantly over Alexander, but the baby grew stronger, and his little body seemed to generate heat just as his father’s did. Nonetheless, Lizzy kept him close to her chest as much as possible, dressed in warm clothing, and wrapped with thick blankets. Every fireplace in the inhabited areas of the mansion blazed from sunrise to well after sunset, dispelling the bulk of the cold and keeping the residents comfortable.

Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived two days after the Bennets, galloping in amid a swirl of snowflakes. Another snowstorm, this one fairly mild, had struck that morning, making for an uncomfortable ride from his parents’ estate, but the battle-hardened soldier was impervious to the weather.

“Richard! Welcome, Cousin. You are just in time for luncheon.” Darcy approached with a warm smile.

“Hello, Darcy. Good to see you, although yours is not the Darcy face I most wanted to greet first. Thank you, Mr. Taylor.” He handed the last layer of jackets to the pile of over-clothing held by the butler, turning with a grin to clap his cousin on the back.

“We can readily divert to the nursery, as I assume this is your reference. Be warned, however: Alexander is asleep, so formal introductions must wait. Come, and while we walk you can tell me when your parents will be visiting.”

“We arrived at Rivallain last evening. Mother was more than prepared to arise with the sun and travel on, but father wanted to settle for a day or two. I rather believe that, as in most matters, mother’s will shall prevail and expect they will rattle into the courtyard tomorrow morning at the latest! She is anxious to meet your son and visit with Elizabeth, having brought the subject to the fore of all conversation at the breakfast table no less than a dozen times. I decided I needed to ride on if I wanted to see him myself, the women liable to monopolize all his waking moments discussing the joys of childbirth and motherhood!”

“You have no idea how accurate your jest, my friend. I have barely laid eyes on him since Elizabeth’s family arrived and he is mine. Quite annoying actually, so I am forced to rise with the late night feedings just to steal precious time alone.”

Darcy was speaking lightly, but Richard, who knew him so well, detected the undertone of irritation. In an attempt to soothe the easily somber Darcy, he said, “Surely you cannot be missing too much. After all, babies, so I am to understand, lie there as lumps and sleep all the time!”

Darcy bristled, the idea of his son a “lump” not appreciated, but one look at his cousin’s face brought laughter to the surface. “Very well, Colonel, we shall see. I have it on good authority that he is the most adorable child in the universe, and thus far, all who lay eyes on him have fallen hopelessly in love. Be cautious, my friend, as your heart will be wrested away!”

They reached the nursery, Darcy entering cautiously although the well-oiled door was unlikely to squeak. Mrs. Hanford glanced up from the dresser where she was folding a pile of clothes, smiling at her Master and nodding toward the cradle.

“Mrs. Hanford, this is my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. Richard, our wonderful nanny, Mrs. Hanford.”

“Madam,” Richard bowed gallantly, turning into the room to follow Darcy, who had crossed swiftly to the cradle. Alexander lay curled on his right side, pink hands folded beside his parted lips as if in sleepy supplication to the Almighty. Auburn curls lay heavy over his now perfectly round head, longer wisps brushing his brows; skin porcelain with ruddy cheeks marred only by a faint pinpoint rash across his chin. Both the nanny and excellent in-house doctor assured the Darcys that these scattered rashes were normal as his delicate flesh adjusted to the outside world of fabrics and soaps. Despite the trivial imperfections, Alexander was beautiful, his father’s assertions only a slim exaggeration, as everyone in the manor was adoring.

A softly smiling, prideful father competently bent with seeking hands to lift his son, Richard grabbing at his wrist. “Darcy, wait! Do not wake him!”

“He just finished eating and I know how to lift him without disturbing. Sit in the chair and you can hold him.”

Richard blanched, arms instinctively clasping behind his back as he shook his head emphatically. “I do not think that a wise plan at all! If I drop him, I am quite certain you will be perturbed!”

“Heavens, Richard. The mighty man of His Majesty’s Armed Forces who handles sword and musket in battle is afraid of a tiny baby?”

“Precisely. If I fail with any of those things, it is my own health and life that is forfeit.”

“Sit and quit complaining. Besides, you have held Annabella’s children, so stop pretending. Alexander is sturdy and I trust you completely.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam sat as bid, his face yet pale. “Very well, but if something happens, I will tell Elizabeth it was your fault.”

Darcy had lifted Alexander adeptly, the slumbering babe merely stretching slightly before nestling into the familiar warm shape of his father’s embrace. As always, Darcy’s heart swelled with a love indescribable and unique. Instantly, he was mesmerized by the breathing reality of his child, the living presence clutched close to his body, overwhelming his senses; his soul elevated by the tiny personality created with the woman he loved so profoundly.

Colonel Fitzwilliam observed his cousin, freshly amazed—even after the transitions of the past year—by how altered the serious, perpetually melancholic mien was that he had assumed was an integral trait in Darcy. Now it was entirely erased; Darcy, even in his intensity, displayed a tenderness and joy that was transparent. Richard privately challenged anyone who knew Darcy well to not be moved by the positive mutation of his character.

“Here he is, Richard. My son. Alexander William George Bennet Darcy. Did I not speak the truth in that he is amazing and adorable? Beautiful like his mother.” Darcy secured him into Richard’s arms, sitting on the chair beside and caressing one fingertip over the baby’s cheek.

“Yes, he is a highly attractive lad. He definitely has Elizabeth’s hair and nose, but he looks like you, Darcy. What about his eyes?”

“Blue, but shaped as his mother’s. He actually seems to be a fair mixture of us both, although I am sure his features will evolve as he matures.”

“Do not tell my sister I said this or I shall torture you, but he is far lovelier than any of her four children. Sadly, they inherited their father’s physical characteristics.”

Darcy smothered a laugh. “Shame, Richard. Lord Montgomery is a distinguished gentleman.”

“Ha! He is grouchy, old, and sports an enormous nose! Makes yours look positively petite.”

“Thanks,” Darcy interrupted dryly.

“You are welcome, and thank you for not countering with an acerbic remark about my own nasal assets, as you surely could have. By the way, Annabella and the children accompanied us from London and are at Rivallain. Lord Montgomery may show up if his preferred pursuits bore him, but we are not holding our breath.”

“Poor Annabella.”

Richard shrugged faintly. “In truth, I believed she was relieved. Ah, you know my sister, Darcy. Money and place in society were always more important to her than affection. She has that as Lady Montgomery and is content.”

“I suppose. It will be delightful to see her again, and I think I can now find it in me to endure her children.”

Richard chuckled, glancing to his cousin with a sly smile. “Oh, I would not count on that! They are spoiled rotten and unruly. Your best bet is to hint they stay at Rivallain with their governess.”

Darcy snorted. “Were we different as youths, Cousin? How many governesses labeled you incorrigible and me mischievous? I still have lash marks on my backside, I am sure.”

“Let it be a lesson for you, father Darcy. ‘Spare the rod, spoil the child,’ as the Good Book says, or ‘train a child in the way he should go and he will not depart from it.’”

Darcy shuddered, stroking his precious, innocent son’s cheek. “Perhaps, although I cannot imagine taking a switch or belt to Alexander. I guess Elizabeth and I will need to be prepared. I know I shall not tolerate a disobedient child.”

Lizzy discovered the two men a half hour later still fawning over the oblivious infant. She smiled at the tableau, like her husband never tiring of noting how everyone fell immediately in love with their child. Neither perceived her presence in the doorway until she cleared her throat. Darcy rose with a beaming grin, crossing to kiss her on the lips.

“Richard arrived, as you can see, and I could not resist introducing him to Alexander.”

“So I gathered. We waited in the dining room wondering if you had gotten lost in your own house, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Taylor enlightened us to Colonel Fitzwilliam’s arrival and I reckoned you had come here.”

“I am so sorry, love! We completely lost track of the hour. Forgive me?”

“Naturally. However, you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, will be punished severely for your rudeness in not greeting Pemberley’s Mistress, unless you pay penance by singing the praises of our incredible son.”

“Thankfully, madam, I can accomplish this with ease. Honestly, Elizabeth, he is lovely. Of course, he has been sleeping the entire time and I have not been gifted with the vocal prowess I am certain he possesses.”

Lizzy laughed. “Even his cries are rays of sunshine, Colonel. I think he has inherited his father’s resonant tones, as his yells are not shrill, and only occur with appropriate incentive.”

“He is demanding and with a wild temper, which could easily come from either of us,” Darcy interjected.

“A melding most probably, which could mean it double in intensity. Woe to you both on that count. Remember the switch, Darcy.”

“Very funny, Richard. Now, gentlemen, if I may be so bold as to insist we let the baby sleep in peace and eat lunch before it grows colder, and before he wakens to persistently request my presence. I have to schedule these things carefully.”

The remaining days until Christmas counted down slowly, with the residents and guests of Pemberley contented in their seclusion behind sturdy stone walls and snow blanketed lawns.

The weather continued to be unpredictable. The sky was continually cloudy to one degree or another, but the snows fell randomly with little warning, even to the bizarrely astute Darcy. It was freezing cold, warming ever so slightly during the days when the sun was allowed to shine through. The small pond froze over, the last of the stubbornly clinging leaves fell, walkways slicked over with crunching ice, and evergreen trees and hedges transformed into wintry monuments. Rhododendrons, hellebore, jasmine, camellia, and cyclamen, as well as potted iris and daffodils sheltered on the terrace, fought to shine through the frosty quilt with varying degrees of colorful success.

Lizzy watched the changes to the surrounds from the thick windows of the manor, happy for one of the first times in her life to forego outdoor activities. Twice she bundled up with barely the tip of her nose visible and strolled along the balcony and private garden with her mother and sisters; however, she honestly did not wish to be far from Alexander. Her only excursions beyond the manor would be to visit the orphanage, bringing gifts to the children and for church on Christmas day. Their guests, on the other hand, delighted in the array of entertainments Pemberley had to offer both inside and out.

Georgiana shed the past year’s maturity in the presence of Kitty, the two giggling and adolescent in their pursuits. Not surprisingly, it was Colonel Fitzwilliam who could generally be found in their company, as equal parts adult escort and fellow juvenile enthusiast. They skated, practiced dancing for the Masque, threw snowballs, and erected a well-accessorized snowman and snow-woman on the south lawn. Mary and Mr. Daniels tended to remain together most of the time in quieter activities, such as table games and conversation, although they did join the revelry surrounding the snow-couple’s creation.

Dr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet renewed their acquaintance, the older gentlemen spending the bulk of their time in the library, although the chess set was put through its paces with neither claiming more victory than the other. Darcy joined them frequently, as did Mr. Daniels and Colonel Fitzwilliam when the ladies were engaged in female companionship. Every possible diversion offered was enjoyed by someone at sometime, and even Mr. Bennet was cajoled into a tennis tournament at one point, with the feminine cheering squad vocalizing their encouragement from the narrow spectator seats. It was George Darcy, of the long limber extremities and quick reflexes, who prevailed over them all. Naturally, he thoroughly delighted in the adulation from the rousing onlookers. Conversely, to the humorous delight of everyone in the Manor, the lanky physician was a disaster on ice skates! His loud declarations of donning slim blades to glide over frozen water being an unnatural and ridiculous activity only increased the laughter and teasing.

Mrs. Bennet flittered about, finding amusement wherever possible. She spent the majority of her time with Lizzy, in the nursery or her parlor with Alexander nearby. She did extend a vast amount of parenting advice, some of it filed in mental wastebaskets for disposal, but a quantity of it actually worthy. Lizzy and Darcy were delighted and a smidge dumbfounded to discover that the flighty, nervous woman actually possessed a rudimentary wisdom after raising five daughters.

Though Pemberley was a very large house, nonetheless, ten people roaming the corridors and haunting the public chambers was rather evident! Adding to the clamor was the arrival of Lord and Lady Matlock with Lady Annabella Montgomery the day after Colonel Fitzwilliam. Lizzy had been introduced to Richard’s younger sister in London. Her husband’s estate was in Hampshire, none of the family visiting with her often except during the season in London. Lizzy found her dull and haughty, resembling her eldest brother Jonathan in personality and none of the other Fitzwilliams. Annabella’s reaction to her cousin’s son and heir was vague, and after a brief pinch to a chubby cheek, she murmured, “How sweet,” before moving away.

Lord Matlock smiled and declared him “handsome and strapping.” Lady Matlock was composed and dignified as usual, but once Alexander was in her arms, it required a seriously vexed wail of extreme hunger to induce her to relinquish him.

In truth, although neither Lizzy nor Darcy would dream of verbalizing it, they were relieved when the three returned to Rivallain after a one day visit. However, the Gardiners arrived mere hours later, filling the brief respite with fresh exuberance. Further presentations of the newborn were performed, Alexander far more tolerant than was his father, who was becoming quite cross.

Despite their fears, Lizzy and Darcy admitted that Alexander was healthy, patient with all the handling, unperturbed, regular in his sleeping and eating patterns, and a certifiable smash with every last soul who laid eyes on him. He grew before their eyes, daily becoming increasingly alert with a rapidly blossoming personality uniquely his own. They were cautious, never allowing him to be taken far from the nursery or disturbed while napping. After his meals, he was held and rocked by his doting mother in solitude for long periods of time, Lizzy refusing to be influenced by family or Pemberley duties.

Unfortunately, Darcy was not so blessed. He was pulled in a dozen directions. Once dressed and separated from wife and son for the day, he rarely saw them again except in passing until late at night. As master and host, it was a responsibility keenly felt to ensure all guests were adequately entertained, nourished, comfortable, and content. As husband and father, it was his duty to guarantee his immediate family was not overwhelmed or unduly disturbed. Add to that the occasional Pemberley estate–related issue and he was busy from sunup to well after sundown. Lizzy fell asleep early, still recuperating from the birth and exhausted from the demands on her body. Darcy arrived later, snuggling close to her warmth in their temporary bedchamber close to the nursery. He made a point to rise with the predawn feeding, assuming the burping and rocking so Lizzy could return to sleep. It was the only time he managed to be alone with his son since the arrival of the Bennets, and after a week he was ready to burst.

Thankfully a day of fair weather dawned and a breakfast decision was made to travel to Matlock for last minute Christmas shopping. Everyone went except for Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner, who opted to grasp onto the silence for placid perusal of the library shelves yet unexamined. Darcy begged liberation from the expedition, claiming business when the truth was he wanted to be alone with his wife and baby. The instant glitter to Lizzy’s eyes as she snapped her gaze to his face clearly spoke of her own need and hope that he was dissembling regarding business. Darcy smiled, his blue eyes softening in a familiar way that Lizzy understood.

After waving farewell to the laughing occupants of three carriages, Darcy practically sprinted up the stairs. Lizzy sat on the bed with Alexander at her breast, raising adoring eyes and one hand to her spouse, who hastily discarded jacket and boots before joining her with a heady sigh.

He buried his face into her neck, kissing as he murmured, “I can only assume the good Lord has taken pity on me this day, as I absolutely would have exploded. I cannot survive another day without your kisses and touch, and our son’s soft body against my heart. I love you so tremendously, my Lizzy.”

“Has it been so awful for you having my family about?”

He lifted to look into her eyes. “It is not your family, my heart. It is anyone who takes me from you and Alexander. Honestly, I am having a delightful time with our guests. Did you know Miss Kitty is an excellent shuffleboard player?” Lizzy shook her head with a raised brow. “Well, she is. I spent roughly ten minutes showing her the basic moves and explaining the rules, and she nearly beat me the first game! Twice I have turned a corner to discover Miss Mary and Mr. Daniels indulging in the mistletoe custom. I think they both nearly suffered apoplexy and I have never laughed so hard—after I departed the scene that is. Your father and I have shared many a game and brandy, and even your mother has surprised me. No, dearest, I merely need to be alone with you and intend to do so all day today.”

“I think this a wonderful plan. I do believe I can bear to be cooped up with you all day.” She smiled brightly, reaching to palm his jaw and draw his mouth to hers for a lingering kiss, lasting until Alexander decided he was replete.

“Come to your father, sweet boy. Behave, as I do not have a cloth handy. Samuel likes you well enough, but not if you soil another garment. That’s my good little man, what a strong burp you have! Yes you do, my precious. Give your papa a kiss. Hmm… delicious milk, so sweet. No wonder you like it so much. Perhaps soon your father can taste your mother’s milk…”

“William!” Lizzy laughed nervously and sharply slapped his knee. “Do not corrupt his innocent ears.”

“He has no idea what I am saying, but I do apologize and will attempt to refrain from verbalizing my desires in his presence. Look, he is falling asleep already, not at all perturbed or shocked. I could even express how urgently I wish to make love to you and he would not flinch. See?”

“Please, William, stop. You are embarrassing me.”

Darcy peered closely at his wife’s rosy cheeks and frowned faintly. “Forgive me, love. I was only jesting. Well, not entirely you understand, but I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Lizzy shook her head, dropping to rest on Darcy’s shoulder, her face hidden from view. Silence fell, Darcy snuggling Alexander while his mind raced. That Darcy desired his wife was a given, and he had assumed she felt the same way, both patiently waiting until her body was restored. Now he was not so certain how she felt and the doubt rocked him. Naturally they had avoided undue intimate contact; Darcy out of respect for her health and Lizzy, he thought, out of respect for his unremitting amorousness. Despite his yearning, he was quite content to wait. He wanted to wait for her, dreamt of it incessantly, imagining how blissful it would be when they finally renewed their intimate marital relationship. Did she not dream of the same? Or was it merely speaking of it in front of the baby?

“I will lay him down,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head. “Stay here, beloved.”

When he returned Lizzy was lying partially propped on several pillows, smiling warmly, and opening her arms to him. Instantly he experienced a rush of relief, nestling close and drawing her against his strongly beating heart.

She squeezed him tightly, voice choking and tremulous. “I am sorry if I distressed you. I guess I am still a bit out of sorts. So many changes these past weeks, with adjustments to my body so suddenly and profoundly. And then all the visitors. I am so happy to have them all here, but it is tiring.” She paused, resuming with a soft sob. “Mostly I want to be with you, truly and completely be with you, and I cannot. I am sorry.”

“Elizabeth, hush. You do not need to explain, as I already understand. Just kiss me and tell me you love me.” He cupped her dear face, pulling her upward so they could drink the other in.

“I love you, Fitzwilliam, with all my soul.”

He smiled, whispering just before claiming her mouth thoroughly in a kiss that would leave them both breathless and desperately wanting more, “That is all I ever need to know. I love you, Mrs. Darcy.”

Lizzy spent the next three days in the frustration of believing she would never manage to corner George alone. When it happened it was quite by accident. She entered the conservatory to pick flowers for Darcy’s dressing room and discovered the usually sociable man alone, stretched on a lounge chair under a ripening orange tree with a book in his hands.

Biting her lip, suddenly shy after seeking his undivided attention, she hesitated before slowly approaching.

“Dr. Darcy.”

Brows rising instantly, he replied, “Yes, Mrs. Darcy?”

Lizzy cleared her throat, glancing away from his unsettling and penetrating eyes. “I wished for your advice… medical advice, that is, on a matter of… some delicacy… and… well, a personal question if you take my meaning?” She was flushed nearly scarlet, with her eyes downcast.

“Have a seat, Elizabeth. I honestly have no idea to what you refer, but I rather think after the events of the past weeks we should be beyond such embarrassments. Speak as plainly as you can, child, and I will do what I can to help. Are you experiencing some residual pain or other discomfort?”

She shook her head vigorously, glancing up briefly. “No, in fact quite the opposite. I feel fine… in all ways. None of the symptoms you or Mrs. Henderson instructed me to watch for. I feel good as new, I suppose I could say.”

“I see.” He studied her face, beginning to suspect the train of her thoughts. “So, I am to understand the cramping is all gone? Good. And no further drainage or tenderness from… very good. I detect no lingering fatigue, other than what is normal with a baby, and your overall appearance is consistent with a state of health and vigor. Do you agree?”

She nodded, hoping he would put the pieces together and spare her further humiliation, but he remained silent. “It is just… You know we rely a great deal on the book for information, and well…” Another glance to his inscrutable face after which she bolted up and began pacing, continuing in a rush. “The book recommends waiting for… for… relations”—swallow—“for six weeks or so, but also states ‘until the woman’s body is fully healed.’”

She stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him with hands on her hips and voice strong. “Well, which is it? I feel healed, but it is not six weeks, so… this is my question.” The gush of vim evaporated, voice falling into a whisper.

George’s lips twitched, but he managed to avoid laughing, holding out his hand instead. “Relax, Elizabeth. Sit down and I will give the advice I give all my maternity patients, although it is doubtful most of them listen to me. The truth is we do not know what is happening internally after birth. Physicians can only guess what course a couple should take as far as marital relations. There is no accurate answer that is the same for all, as each birth is varied and the effects equally so. However, the standard recommendation is to let your heart and body guide you. When you feel capable and desirous of such activity both physically and emotionally, then that is your answer. I can tell you this with absolute certainty: Many resume within a couple of weeks and I have never known there to be a problem unless an issue already existed which was aggravated by the action. Does this answer your query adequately?”

Lizzy could only nod.