My Dearest Mr. Darcy: An Amazing Journey into Love Everlasting

Chapter Nineteen Year's End

“Is he asleep?” Darcy asked Lizzy from the doorway as he entered the nursery.

“Yes. Mrs. Hanford, you will ring me if he wakens?”

“Of course, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Do not fret, my dear. He has eaten well and should allot you at least three hours to dine. You need a full meal for a change.” Darcy soothed his wife with a tender caress to the small of her back, bending simultaneously to bestow a light kiss to Alexander's forehead. The baby, hours away from being four days old, lay soundly asleep in his cradle for the very first time. His tiny mouth was parted in sleep, as Darcy's always was, miniature fists curled to either side of his head and round bottom lifted into the air as he snuggled into the cushioned mattress.

“Are you sure he will be warm enough? Perhaps we should add another blanket.”

Darcy touched his cheek. “He feels warm, and Mrs. Hanford will ensure the fire stays lit. Come, love, all will be well, I promise.” Lizzy reluctantly allowed her husband to lead her away, not realizing that the separation was no easier for him. Darcy shared a last glance with Mrs. Hanford, the understanding nanny nodding and smiling with reassurance.

Darcy had lovingly, but firmly, informed Lizzy that tonight they would dine with George and Georgiana. As difficult as it was to leave their son, Darcy was craving a full-course, freshly served meal. Furthermore, he knew that for Elizabeth to regain her strength it was essential her diet improve beyond quick trays served in their chambers. Aside from the nutritional aspects of the decision, he judged that dressing in more than a nightgown, primping her hair, and wearing a few jewels would mentally aid in her total recovery.

Lizzy had tearily argued, Darcy embracing her and nearly relenting, but finally she had agreed. Now Darcy could only stare at his wife and the vision she presented. Marguerite had coiffed her hair in a basic, unadorned chignon with the strand of sapphires about her slender neck the only jewels. She wore one of the gowns designed for her by Madame Millicent in London for when she was early in her pregnancy, and already a mere four days since delivering she was slim enough to wear it, the creamy tops of her lactating breasts beautifully displayed.

He halted her in the bedchamber, Lizzy glancing up into his face with surprise and sudden hope. “Are we staying after all?”

Darcy smiled, cupping her face with his palms and shaking his head. “No, beloved. I intend to guarantee you eat until bursting, drink a glass of wine, laugh with your family, and unwind. First, however, I must tell you how absolutely stunning you are. God, Elizabeth! You take my breath away!” He encircled her neck, bending for a teasing and earnest kiss. “Delicious. Come, Mrs. Darcy, the clock is ticking, knowing the appetite of our son.”

Lizzy was greeted with enthusiasm by George and Georgiana. Darcy, bless his amazing heart, had placed a goose down-filled cushion on the chair to his right, guiding his wife and lovingly assisting her to sit, a chore that was yet painfully accomplished. A large part of her heart and soul remained upstairs, but the warm welcome and dazzling brilliance of the appointed dining room calmed her. With the serving of the first course, a delicious roasted red pepper soup, Lizzy wholly relaxed into the joy of fine dining with dear loved ones.

“I received a letter from Raja today,” George began as the entrée was served, all looking to him with rapt attention.

“Did he finally propose?” Georgiana burst out, flushing instantly at her rude interruption and glancing at her brother in expectation of his rebuke. None was forthcoming, however, as he was as interested in the answer as she was.

George continued with a chuckle, “Apparently so. Down on one knee with a bouquet of flowers to which was tied an engagement ring obtained from Spain, a family heirloom, he writes. Reciting poetry, no doubt, knowing Raul, although he does not say such. Anyway, Miss de Bourgh had to think on it for a few days…”

“She did not!” It was Georgiana again, but this time they all laughed as George shook his head.

“No, dear niece, she did not. He does not specify, but I can read between the lines. I rather imagine instantly leaping into arms or fainting dead away more the order of events.”

“Anne is more the blushing and nodding sedate type, but there could have been some leaping involved,” Darcy said dryly.

“Speaking from experience, nephew?” George winked at Lizzy.

“No leaping—although there nearly was fainting, from me.” He squeezed his wife's hand. “Does Dr. Penaflor give any other specifics? Dates, perhaps?”

“Lady Catherine's reaction?” Lizzy interjected with an evil twinkle.

“I expect Lady Catherine has passed the recent months figuring how to incorporate royal Spanish elements into the de Bourgh family crest. Raja is ever the diplomat, not to mention a future son-in-law, so I cannot glean anything untoward. He has well established himself in the community as a worthy physician, already asked to be on the hospital board. I shall allow myself to take some credit in that as I did train him, passing on my superior expertise. Kent is blessed.” He paused for a smug grin and bite of braised chicken.

“Anyway,” he continued, “Raja says they are tentatively planning a February wedding. He and Anne desired an intimate Christmas ceremony, but Lady Catherine insists on her daughter and heir having an elaborate affair with probably all of England invited. I added the caveat there, but would wager the truth of it.”

“Why does everyone insist on February weddings?” Lizzy moaned. “I do not think it wise to take Alexander anywhere during the winter.”

Darcy brought her knuckles to his lips, speaking softly. “Do not fret. We will attend if possible, bringing Alexander if he seems hale enough, or we will not. In the end our son's health is of the greatest importance. Anne and Mary will understand this.” Lizzy nodded, smiling bravely.

“Well,” Georgiana broke the silence, “I think it is very romantic. So much love in the air. I cannot be happier for both Anne and Mary. Maybe we can even find someone for you, Uncle. Miss Bingley is yet unclaimed.”

George literally spit his wine, Lizzy bursting into loud guffaws, and Darcy attempting to glare at his sister, but unable as he hid a smile into his napkin.

“Oh Lord forgive me, but bachelorhood has never conjured more appeal than at that vision! Shame, Georgie, shame.”

“Do not be so hasty, Uncle. Miss Bingley will be visiting over the holidays so you can reconsider the notion at your leisure.”

“Enough,” Darcy said with a sharp laugh, “joking at another's expense is unattractive and uncharitable, no matter how humorous. Remember this, Georgiana.”

“Yes, brother.”

Lizzy patted her hand. “Speaking of hospitals and superior expertise, what of the hospital in Matlock, George? Other events transpired and I never heard the outcome of your interview.”

George laughed. “Yes indeed, other events transpired.” At dinner on the night Lizzy went into labor, George had casually mentioned that he was offered a position at Matlock Hospital. The burst of hopeful delight that flowed through each of their hearts was powerful. Questions had poured forth, but George became evasive after the declaration, skillfully diverting the topic.

“It was intriguing. The facility is fairly modern for a rural establishment. The board approved of my credentials, naturally, and personally I was a smash.” He grinned then shrugged. “I was guaranteed a position, but have not decided for certain.”

“You know you are welcome to stay at Pemberley as long as you wish, whatever your decision.”

“Thank you, William.”

“Alexander would miss you and I rather appreciate having a physician in residence.” Darcy smiled at his uncle. “Additionally, the community could use a doctor of your talent, but do not let the praise swell your ego any further!”

“That would be impossible, I fear. In all seriousness, I confess I have enjoyed my time home more than I imagined I would. It is a difficult decision.” His grave tone touched all of them. For months now they had all privately wondered what his plans were, hoping and praying that he would stay.

“Oh, Uncle! You must stay through Christmas at the very least!” Georgiana pleaded.

“That I can promise, my dear. I refuse to sail in the winter.” He shuddered. “I am a very poor sailor and the Channel crossing is hideous in the best of weather. No, I fear you are stuck with me until spring!”

Georgiana clapped in glee, Lizzy stating, “That is excellent news! We Darcys are all quite selfish, Uncle, so garner no qualms. We desire your presence for as many months or years as you wish to grace us. And besides, my father would be crushed not to have another chance to triumph at a game of chess.”

The next day Darcy was sitting in his study attending to a short stack of papers that he could not ignore. It involved details on the horse breeding program, a lengthy report necessary to complete per the request of Duke Grafton. Darcy was poring over a comprehensive list of the current stable stock when an epiphany struck him: the perfect endowment—deeding the ownership title of Wolfram to Alexander Darcy. His heart began to race and within seconds he was dashing from the room to find his wife, skidding to a stop midway down the hall when additional enlightenment dawned: Lizzy may not be so overjoyed at the idea.

For a second, just the barest second, the old dominant arrogance flared and he thought, Who cares what Elizabeth thinks? I am his father, after all! However, this treasonous thought was rapidly smothered. Instead, he paced in the corridor for quite some time while running over the various ways to broach the topic and make it palatable to his non-horse-loving wife. In the end he threw up his hands, literally, and just decided to be honest. This approach worked the best in the majority of situations anyway.

Luckily he found Lizzy in the nursery actively nursing their days-old baby and wearing the beautifully wistful expression dominant when Alexander was at her breast. At moments like this he could probably sell her on anything! For a spell he lost himself to the identical exalted abstraction, forgetting why he had come in the joy of gazing at his son, but eventually rational memory reasserted itself.

“Dearest, I came here specifically to ask your opinion on a matter that I have been contemplating. It will come as no surprise to you, of course, to hear that my greatest hope is that Alexander, as well as all our children, would inherit my love of horses and riding.”

“I doubt if that will be an issue to worry over.”

Darcy smiled. “Well, I do pray for the desire to be imbedded in his soul as it always was in mine, but I do not wish to be presumptuous. However, with that supposition in mind I have an urge to gift Alexander a horse, but not just any horse. Wolfram is who I am thinking of. He was born on the very night that you came here as my wife, you have bonded with him to a degree, and as the offspring of Parsifal I know he is of the very best lineage and dear to me.” He shrugged. “The latter reasoning is merely sentimental on my part, but there it is.”

Lizzy was smiling softly, but her eyes were slightly disturbed. “I think it a lovely idea, but will not Wolfram be too old for Alexander to ride?”

Darcy laughed at her ignorance. “Oh no! A well cared for, sturdy thoroughbred can live for twenty-five to thirty years easily, often more although not ridable in its seniority. Wolfram will be in his prime when Alexander transitions from pony to horse. They will have years together. My first stallion, Pericles, was given me by my grandfather when I was nine and I rode him exclusively until I was twenty-one. He was my friend and loyal companion. He only died four years ago, but could no longer run as fast as I wished nor jump fences. Parsifal was of Pericles's lineage, his grandson actually, but still a colt. Nonetheless, I was in love. I rode various horses for a couple years until he was mature enough to carry my bulk in the demanding way I required.” He laughed, closing his eyes in memory. “Mr. Thurber was nigh on to throttling me I think as I haunted the stables incessantly. He was new to the position of head groomsman and not yet familiar with my personal involvement. He grew accustomed to me in time. Anyway, I insisted on caring for Parsifal myself, no one else was to break him or train him or ride him, ever.” He looked at Lizzy with serious eyes, one finger stroking over Alexander's cheek absently. “The relationship between a man and his horse can be a strong bond, Elizabeth. I want Alexander to experience that if possible. As for Wolfram, he is a special horse and will be perfect for our son until he is an adult and can pick a replacement as I did. Does this meet with your approval?”

Lizzy nodded, but her eyes were yet mildly troubled. Darcy chuckled, bending to bestow a light kiss. “I can read your thoughts, Mrs. Darcy. Have no fear. I will not be trudging through the snow with our fragile infant in my arms to be introduced to his future steed.” He kissed her again and then kissed Alexander's hand before rising to leave. “Spring will be soon enough!” And with that final declaration and a roguish grin, he departed.

The proper documents were signed and notarized, ownership of one Wolfram deeded to Alexander Darcy of Pemberley. The new owner was unimpressed, not even opening his eyes when a proud father informed him of the transfer.

The first week passed blissfully. Alexander settled into a fairly regular routine, eating every three to four hours on the button all through the day, filling his belly to satiation finally enough to sleep for roughly five to six hours through the night. His parents had no comparison, but felt that he was overall a temperate baby. He assuredly had a temper, primarily displayed when he was hungry and when the, in his opinion, time-consuming silliness of diaper changing took precedence over his empty stomach. However, the very second the exposed nipple came within range of his seeking mouth, serenity and happiness as well as blessed silence descended. Once sated, generally handed to a waiting father for burping, Alexander was bonelessly lax.

“He is rather reminiscent of an inebriated person, limbs useless with eyes rolled backward and mouth widely open,” Darcy stated with a warm chuckle. “Drunk on milk, my precious?” He held his son on his shoulder, garments well protected with a cloth after lessons learned previously much to Samuel's dismay, gently patting his back. The spellbound father swayed slowly, wisely not wishing to churn a stomach full of milk, wiping the corners of the infant's mouth where remnants of his meal pooled. Alexander released a satisfied burp and slept on. “There's a good boy. Such a strong lad you are, yes. So sweet you are, my little love, Papa's little man.”

His tender murmurings continued. Lizzy observed with a smile from the rocking chair while reclasping her dress and adjusting her bosoms for comfort. Now that her milk production was fully established, Lizzy discovered the painful reality of a heavy breast, quite obviously not an issue ever encountered in her life! During her pregnancy the increased ampleness of her bosom, although extreme compared to her pre-gravid state, was far from the generous volume gifted to seemingly the majority of women. The normal application of gathers and inset stays to her gowns was more than adequate to support her altered physique. This was not the case now. Lizzy was frankly shocked at the affect of lactation on the size of her breasts, easily double her pregnant mass. The strain placed on her thin shoulder and chest muscles was considerable.

Luckily Mrs. Hanford had some experience in this matter. The nanny was not an overly large woman, and although beefier than Lizzy it was clear that there were similarities in bust to frame ratios. Sweetly and tactfully, she had approached her mistress with suggestions prior to Alexander's birth. An appeal to Madame du Loire had yielded an abundance of specifically designed gowns and stays for a nursing woman. The undergarments were fairly comfortable, prettily detailed, constructed of silky fabrics, and aided in restoring tone to her abdomen, but primarily it was the relief in having a support for her weighty breasts that was appreciated.

Darcy had extended no specific comments regarding his wife's lushly endowed bust line, but his eyes betrayed his thoughts. Obviously making love to her was out of the question for the time being, Darcy far too content overall to lament the necessary waiting, but his sleepy straying hands, which inevitably ended up cupping a breast, proved the train of his private musings. Watching Alexander nurse was elating for the delight in observing the natural activity of a healthy son, but also for the titillation of staring at her creamy bosom with imaginings running amok for when she was capable of resuming marital relations.

Darcy kissed the baby's head, sitting in the chair beside Lizzy and turning a radiant face to his equally radiant wife. “I do not think we shall hear a peep out of him for a while. He feels a bit heavier, have you noticed?”

“His cheeks are chubbier,” she said, brushing over the mentioned body part with a fingertip. “Considering how much he eats I am not surprised. I can feel the difference in my breasts when he finishes so I know he is adequately fed.” She laid her head onto Darcy's shoulder, sighing. “He is so beautiful. I never tire of gazing upon him. Did you read Papa's letter?”

“Yes. It will be a delight to have him at Pemberley. Georgiana was thrilled at the news of Miss Kitty and Miss Mary visiting. Additionally, I must also remember to thank Miss Mary for being a typically strong-willed Bennet and prevailing upon Mr. Daniels to join them.”

“And Mama?” she asked with a twinkle.

“Please, dearest, do not tease me so. I am sorry I cannot claim affection for your mother, but I am reservedly pleased to have her as a guest. I am even preparing myself to magnanimously accept the inevitably ebullient commentary regarding Pemberley's well-appointed rooms and expensive furnishings!” Lizzy laughed, Darcy continuing with a mischievous gleam, “In all likelihood it is you, my heart, who will reap the greatest joy from your mother's enthusiasm with a plethora of maternal advice and assistance.”

Lizzy playfully slapped his knee. “Beast! Watch your tongue, Mr. Darcy, or I shall inform her that you are hopelessly inept and require comprehensive instruction in basic parenting skills!”

Darcy winced. “Very well, madam, you win. While we are on the subject of your family, I have a thought that I wish for your opinion on. I had the notion of sending the coach to Hertfordshire for your family's transportation. With five now traveling and the weather unpredictable, I thought it may be more comfortable, not to mention safer. However, I was unsure what vehicles Mr. Bennet possessed, having only seen the landau, and I would never wish to offend by extending the offer. What do you think?”

Lizzy thought carefully, answering with deliberation, “Papa owns nothing remotely as grand as the coach, to be sure. In truth, he would probably be mildly offended if the offer came from you. If, on the other hand, it is my idea and I express my concern for Mama's nerves while traveling to the far colder regions of Derbyshire, I think he would be placated. Anything to divert a paroxysm of nerves during a daylong carriage ride will be welcomed, I can assure you! He may be slightly embarrassed, but his thankfulness will outweigh.” She smiled at her spouse, beckoning him forward for a tender kiss. “You are the soul of kindness, William. Thank you.”

Darcy blushed faintly. “It is a simple thing, Elizabeth. To change the topic, the birth announcements should be ready in a day or two. I have compiled a short list of friends and family to notify and Mr. Keith will send them once they arrive. The list is on the bed stand for you to peruse for accuracy as well as the envelopes for you to personally address. The post was extensive today. I received a missive from Richard as well stating he will be spending Christmas with his parents.” He smiled happily, glancing a kiss to her temple. “And you sent the invitation to the Gardiners, yes?” She nodded. “It is rapidly transpiring into a full house of guests after all.”

Lizzy frowned. “As delightful as it is to have family about, I do not want Alexander exposed to an endless parade of people handling him.”

“I emphatically agree. We will be cautious. They can gaze upon his adorable face as he lays here in his cradle or wait until he wakes. By the way, I spoke with Reverend Bertram this afternoon and scheduled the christening for the Sunday following Christmas. Nearly all the family will be here so it is perfect, do you agree?”

“Absolutely.” She peered up at his face with a grin. “That gives you one month to rethink naming him 'William' rather than 'Fitzwilliam.'”

“I do not need to contemplate the subject any further. There are enough 'Fitzwilliams' in this family. Annabella named her son Fitzwilliam and Anne can do the same if she wishes. That should appease tradition.”

“What about appeasing Lady Catherine? She will be devastated.”

“Perhaps it is time she learned to deal with disappointment, and do not pretend you are overly concerned for Lady Catherine's sensibilities, Mrs. Darcy. We have discussed it with serious reflection and I am satisfied with the names chosen. They are strong names all and pay tribute to those dearest to us as well as fulfilling tradition.” He competently transferred the limp baby from shoulder to nestle in the crook of his arm, Lizzy tucking the blanket over naked feet after a kiss to tiny toes.

Darcy resumed, “Reverend Bertram is thrilled, as you can imagine. I tried to convince him we are planning a simple ceremony, but I have a suspicion he anticipates the whole of Derbyshire to arrive.”

“And an angelic benediction for the heir to Pemberley?”

“Perhaps. He began talking about rearranging benches and clearing sections of the balcony.” Darcy laughed, shaking his head. “My caution was unheeded. At least the chapel will be sparkling clean for the occasion. He did ask who we had named as godparents.”

“You told him the Bingleys, obviously.”

“Yes. He was concerned that we had not decided on the third godparent.”

“We have time, love. I have a very strong suspicion the choice you wish for will soon be available. Be patient and trust.”

“Words of faith and conviction coming from my wife?”

“Your strong beliefs are rubbing off on me, Mr. Darcy.” She reached for a light kiss to his nose, Darcy chuckling.

“Mrs. Reynolds requested a meeting with you at your earliest convenience to discuss a few Christmas issues. Nothing too intense, as I have expressed our wish to proceed as last year. The groundsmen are already amassing piles of holly and mistletoe, and although I do not know this for cert, I imagine the maids are fabricating new kissing balls to ensnare the unmarried footmen. With so much scheming I wonder how any of them complete any real work over the holiday season.”

“If my memory serves, the servants were not the only Pemberley inhabitants to profit from strategically located mistletoe. In fact, I clearly recollect you reaping the benefits, sir.” Darcy grinned in happy remembrance, meeting his wife's eyes with a lusty twinkle. “New topic… I talked to Georgiana regarding delivering the tenant gift packages this year. She stammered a bit, but was agreeable. Perhaps Mary and Kitty can accompany her for moral support! By the way, your shy sister asked me to request a favor of you.”

Darcy glanced over with raised brow. “She was too timid to speak with me personally?”

“Listen and you will understand. The invitation for the Cole's Masque arrived three days ago, as you are aware. Naturally we cannot attend, or at least I cannot.”

“I certainly will not be attending without you,” he declared firmly. “It is a pity. The image of you in my arms dancing the waltz is most appealing.”

Lizzy smiled and chuckled. “Listen to you, Mr. Darcy! Suddenly so desirous of dancing and socializing! Who is this man I am now married to?”

“The same selfish one from years past, who wishes to squire the most beautiful woman in all England on his arm, spreading envy amongst the unfortunate, and increasing his arrogance. However, we already know my faults. You were speaking of Georgiana.”

“Simply put, Georgiana expressed an interest in attending this year. While on tour with the Matlocks she danced at a handful of social engagements and enjoyed herself immensely; however, she knows how strict you are about the rules of officially 'coming out' and feared your censure.”

Darcy was frowning, lips pursed in thought. “I did not know of her dancing while in Wales. Did she fear sharing this with me?”

“Only in the sense that she did not desire to disappoint you or incur your anxiety over her well-being. She knows how worried you were over Lord Gruffudd and abhors causing you any pain. She yet harbors guilt over the Ramsgate affair, to the degree of hurting you and earning your disrespect.”

Darcy sighed deeply, speaking roughly, “I never blamed her for any of that and made my thoughts perfectly clear.”

“She knows this, dearest, but her love for you is so great as to yearn only to please you. Surely you understand how tremendously high her esteem for you? You are all she has had in her latter years to admire and emulate.”

“Until you.” His countenance softened. “Thank you, Elizabeth, for being a friend and sister to Georgie. What do you deem wise regarding her attending the Masque?”

“Well, assuming she can be properly chaperoned by either the Matlocks or Richard, and since it is a local affair, I do not think it untoward for her to attend. The invitation did include her name, after all. Of course, I do not claim to be fully versed in all the finer nuances of high society, but if Lord and Lady Matlock allowed her to dance at balls while touring, it should not be an issue here in Derbyshire.”

“I suppose I agree. An engagement or two over the winter will in no way effect her appearance at Court and formal admission to society at Almack's in the spring. Perhaps Miss Mary, Mr. Daniels, and Miss Kitty can attend as well. I can request Sir Cole include them on the guest list.”

Lizzy laughed. “Unless her personality has drastically changed with the advent of love and impending matrimony, Mary hates balls and would likely cringe at the idea. Kitty, of course, is another matter entirely. Should I inform Georgie of your agreement or will you?”

“I will talk to her. I judge it the appropriate time for us to have an earnest brother-sister chat. If you do not object to my absence for an afternoon, I think I will escort her to luncheon and shopping in Matlock. It has been a while since we spent quality hours together and I am sure she has merchandise requirements, for Christmas if nothing personal.”

“That is a brilliant plan! You should invite her for tomorrow since the roads have cleared and we have a spell of moderate weather. I can meet with Mrs. Reynolds. It is past time for Alexander and I to move beyond the top floor, is that not right, my darling?” She brought his miniature feet to her mouth for delectable nibbles, the deeply sleeping infant not even flinching. “Want to see the billiard room where you will be spending so much of your time, sweetheart? How about your papa's study? He sleeps like you, William, in a comatose state.”

“It is the satisfied sleep of one who is utterly loved, and well sated, although for variant reasons.” He kissed the top of her head. “Should we lay him down for now and join the others in the music room? Georgiana has a new song she wishes to perform for you.”

“Yes, I suppose. Oh! It is just so hard to leave him!”

“Mrs. Hanford says he will have more awake hours as he grows, but for now sleep is crucial for his health. I do not imagine he would sleep as deeply being passed around and with the pianoforte pounding in the background.”

Darcy rose, laying Alexander cautiously into the cradle to avoid waking, but the contented infant merely stretched, emitting a smattering of baby gurgles before resuming his pose of tranquil slumber. The blanket was smoothed and another added, both parents transfixed for another few minutes before Mrs. Hanford was notified and they departed.

Talking about Reverend Bertram's concerns over the third godparent was the impetus Darcy needed to finally make a decision and take action as he should have done weeks ago.

The selection of an infant's godparents was a solemn task undertaken with the utmost seriousness. The responsibilities of the adults who willingly assumed this role were critical and never taken lightly. On down through the ages the Church-instituted custom of assigning mature persons, at least two of whom must be the same sex as the infant, was approached with deep forethought. A godparent's place in the child's life was a vital one. He or she was ascribed the honored task of ensuring that the innocent babe grew strong in the tenets of faith, assisting in the teaching of Christianity as essential to one's existence so that one day the aware youth would consciously declare his belief in Christ for full salvation. Logically, therefore, the godparent needed to be a man or woman of faith themselves and in close enough proximity to the youth during his formative years.

The godparent was not a legal guardian, that station ascribed for variant reasons, although they could be deemed so if all parties wished it. In Georgiana's case guardianship had been granted to the two men closest to her who were the most mature yet also youthful and financially stable. James Darcy had stipulated in his will that if his son could not fulfill the duties of Master of Pemberley and primary guardian for any reason, the estate would be managed by Col. Fitzwilliam until Georgiana married.

However, since financial and physical well-being was not an obligation of the godparent, the role was not dependent on wealth, blood, or station. Thus, Georgiana's godparents were her brother, Aunt Madeline, and Mrs. Reynolds.

Fitzwilliam James Alexander Darcy was baptized by Reverend Bertram in the Pemberley Chapel thirty years prior with his proud parents flanked by James Darcy Sr., Mr. Henry Vernor, and Anne's sister Lady Muriel Griffin.

Naturally not all families placed extreme importance on the selection of godparents. The amount of prudence undertaken was directly correlated to the depth of religious faith within the family. In the case of the Darcys, faith was a major facet in their day-to-day lives, so the decision was seriously contemplated. Lizzy may not have been as strongly adherent to religion as her husband, but she certainly understood the importance to him and the prerequisite of choosing wisely. For several weeks prior to Alexander's birth they had discussed the options. Although they had felt strongly that their firstborn would be male, they still had to consider the alternative. They gravely considered everyone they knew, but their hearts and sound deduction inevitably returned to two names that without any doubt they knew to be perfect—the Bingleys always the clear front runners.

The Darcys were content with the Bingleys as chosen godparents. It truly had been an obvious choice and despite the formality demanded, neither had suspected a refusal. The choice for the third godparent transpired with far more circumspection and surprise. Georgiana was the easily agreed upon godmother, if their child had been a female. It is not that several other female family members and friends would not be wise choices, but the relationship between Darcy and his sister was simply too devoted to seriously contemplate naming another.

But the question of whom to name as the second male godfather had been a topic of debate for months. The Darcys had considered everyone, and with the wealth of upstanding, devoted male friends Darcy possessed, the answer was challenging because the choices were so numerous! A man of lesser character and meager religious convictions would not have struggled so, but this does not describe Darcy, so he agonized over the proper course.

Oddly, and to the surprise of them both, George's name gradually entered the mix and with each passing week the desire grew stronger. Initially Darcy was frankly stunned that he would even consider the option. Yes, he knew by this time that his uncle was strong of faith and not the moral reprobate he had assumed, but his capriciousness did not really qualify him for the post of godfather. However, this too seemed to be waning as his “holiday” was taking on a decidedly permanent air. Darcy, as typical, studied the idea from every angle. He approached the concept clinically and with logic, yet his heart continued to interfere.

Therefore, in a bold move not conventionally like Darcy, he decided to confront his vacillating uncle. It was long past time for honest communication and blunt ultimatums. Therefore, a few days after Alexander's birth and while a weary wife and son were sleeping, Darcy sought out his uncle, who was, not shockingly, reclining in the library.

In Darcy's chair. With long legs stretched onto a cushioned ottoman.

“Perhaps I should write to Mr. Chippendale and request he make an identical chair.”

George glanced up at Darcy's grinning face. “Could you? This is by far the most comfortable chair I have ever sat in. Perfect for my frame.”

“Precisely why I ordered it made to my dimensions six years ago. I was tired of being cramped into uncomfortable creations of hard wood and sharp edges.” He sat in the opposite smaller albeit exquisite wing back Chippendale, folding his hands and closely examining the expression on George's face. “I am positive something could be arranged.”

George smiled with genuine delight, moving his feet to clear space on the ottoman. “Take a load off, my boy. There is plenty of room.”

“Thanks all the same, but I do not fancy assuming such a pose outside of the privacy of my chambers.”

George laughed aloud, nearly snorting, and shook his head. “Oh William! You are such a treasure!”

“How fortuitous that you think so, and you have offered the perfect segue into what I came to speak to you about.”

George lifted a brow. “Really! How serious you are, Mr. Darcy. Should I throw down a belt of whiskey to prepare myself?”

“If you believe it would bolster your fortitude, then by all means belt away. Just bring me one as well.”

George laughed, rising and crossing to the small sidebar to pour them each a glass of fine Irish scotch. “So what has you seeking me out when you could be with your beautiful wife and adorable baby?”

“A topic that greatly concerns them, as a matter of fact. Thank you.” He took a sip, waiting until George was settled before launching forth. With penetrating gaze fixed and tone sober, he began. “Uncle, you know that Elizabeth and I adore you. You and I have talked extensively about our kinship, so there is no need to reiterate our mutual accord. However, I think we have both shied away from verbalizing our feelings. My wife has encouraged me to tell you of the depth of my sentiments.” He grimaced slightly then shrugged. “Women are far more effusive in vocalizing their emotions, but in this instance I suppose she is correct.”

He crossed his legs and inhaled deeply, opening his mouth to commence, but was halted at George's chuckle.

“Let me spare you any emasculation, William. I love you and you love me. You have become the son I never had and I have to a degree arrogated the role James rightfully deserves. There, it is out in the open. Feel better now?”

Darcy smiled wryly. “Immeasurably. Elizabeth will be so pleased.” He sipped his drink before continuing. “Very well then. All that being clarified, we have an important request to make of you. A requisite preface is forthcoming, though, so be warned. Apparently I can be long-winded at times, as a dear friend recently pointed out.”

“I never have noticed,” George murmured with a perfectly straight face.

Darcy ignored him. “Uncle, you are welcome to dwell at Pemberley for as long as you choose, for the rest of your life if that is your desire. I do hope you know that.” George nodded, frowning slightly in confusion. “I have not asked your plans and we have tried not to sway you in any way as it is ultimately your decision. However, I need to tell you in the clearest words imaginable that the heartfelt wish of us all is that you would chose to reside here forever. Simply put, I do not want lose you. Forgive the cloying sentimentalism, but that is the truth.”

George was momentarily speechless, swallowing and inhaling deeply to calm the abrupt rush of emotions. He nodded finally, voice soft when he spoke, “Thank you, William. You have no idea how I appreciate that, and since we are being forthright then let me say something.” He leaned forward, bony elbows on his knees as he met Darcy's piercing gaze with an identical one. “I have purposely been evasive because… well, I guess I needed to hear you say what you just did. I have been gone for a very long time. When I left, my father was Master of Pemberley and I never questioned my reception if I chose to return. With James it was much the same, although I never considered the idea. I think I undertook this journey home with a latent desire to stay, but refused to acknowledge it because I had no clue what my greeting would be. So much had changed and the Pemberley that was my childhood home was no longer the ready refuge it had always been.”

“But it is,” Darcy declared firmly.

“Yes, I know that now.” He sighed, sitting back into the soothing shelter of the enormous chair and smiling fondly at his nephew. “I love India and know it will forever be a part of who I am. But I have missed England and Derbyshire. I have missed family, my family. Jharna's death brought that world to an end for me and made me realize fully how adrift I was. I need to be here, William. I want to be here, so with your blessing I will accept your offer.” He grinned, lightening the solemn mood as usual with a joke. “You can even banish me to the north wing or one of the servant's houses if I become annoying.”

Darcy's lips twitched, but he shook his head and held a steady stare, intoning gravely, “I am afraid I cannot allow that, Uncle. After all, my son needs to have his namesake and, if you are so willing, his godfather near at hand.”

George's mouth dropped open and eyes widened in amazement. Darcy laughed aloud, lifting his glass in salute. “To Alexander and his godfather. Lord help us all!”

Gradually Lizzy returned to her duties as her energy was restored, but always with Alexander either accompanying her or Mrs. Hanford aware of her location. Since she primarily worked from her desk in Darcy's study or their sitting room, she was easy to find. The Indian silks gifted by Dr. Darcy were perfectly utilized as slings to hold Alexander against his mother's chest while he slept, enabling Lizzy to carry him easily and have her hands free. She looked ridiculous, and would never appear in public so adorned, but for meandering about the manor it was ideal.

Mrs. Reynolds had all the Christmas plans in hand, Lizzy only required to assist minimally and proffer input. They discussed the packages for the tenant families, the staff and tenant feast, any additional gifts Lizzy wanted purchased, the menu, and a few other incidentals. There truly was very little for her to address, Lizzy abundantly thankful as she vastly preferred devoting all attention to her precious baby.

Physically she rejuvenated rapidly. The occasionally intense cramps, a result so George informed her, of her womb returning to a pre-pregnant condition lessened daily and were gone by the end of the second week. She did nap most every day with Alexander snuggled against her breast after nursing primarily because it was so wonderfully joyous to do so. Her weariness was essentially gone within days to be replaced by the vigor of youth. The tenderness to her bottom persisted for quite a while, as did the scant discharge from her feminine area, but that too receded. She adjusted to some of the changes in her body: the large and cumbersome breasts that leaked milk frequently, and the wider hips that required several chemises to be altered. More problematic, from an egotistical standpoint, was the extra flesh over her abdomen.

Eventually this would disappear, Lizzy as svelte as always, but since this was a future development, she lamented this alteration to her physique. Logically she knew that her expectations were presumptuous and apprehensions irrational. Her emotions were perhaps minutely a result of personal vanity, but primarily were for her husband. This too she rationally knew to be absurd as Darcy had proven time and again that his love and desire for her was not dependent on her shape. Nonetheless, her unease and embarrassment continued, Lizzy thankful that for now her moderately pendulous belly was hidden from view under a corset and gown.

“Enter,” Darcy declared in response to the knock on his study door. The minor quantity of business that arose during the winter months had accumulated in a pile on his desk over the past week and a half, Darcy finally taking the precious time away from his wife and son to execute his duty as the Master of Pemberley. As important as the tedious issues were, he nevertheless was thrilled to see his wife and son cross the threshold.

“Forgive me, William, for disturbing you, but I have the final batch of announcements to post.”

“I shall forgive you, beloved, if you kiss me and then hand me our son. Come to your father, my precious boy. There's my big strong lad. What are you and your beautiful mother up to? Hmm?”

Alexander was awake, bright blue eyes studying his father with an infantile hint of amusement. Darcy held him balanced on both broad hands, neck well supported as he made silly faces and conversed with the innate baby talk tonality that all parents seemed to possess. The baby squirmed and erratically swung his extremities, lips puckered, and stare riveted on his adoring father.

“Who loves you best? Your mama and papa do, yes, that's who! Give your father a kiss, milk lips. Ouch! Must you grab my hair each time?”

“Perhaps he is subtly enlightening you to the fact that you need your hair trimmed.”

“Is your father a shaggy hound, wee one? Or is your grip just so strong you cannot prevent grasping anything in your reach? I think it the latter, yes I do, my sturdy little man, I do.” Darcy buried his mouth and nose into Alexander's stubby neck, tickling and blowing as the amused newborn wiggled and burbled, nearly giggling.

Lizzy sat and watched her silly spouse play the child with Alexander, heart swelling with fresh rivers of joy. The infant's moments of wakefulness were minimal and seized upon wholeheartedly. Despite her familiarity with Darcy's humor and private frivolity, it still surprised her to observe how nonsensical he was with their firstborn. He would likely be mortified if a servant entered the room, or even many of their family and friends, but the delightful displays of merriment sprung from an inner fount of happiness that he could not contain. To say that marriage and now fatherhood had drastically affected the personality of the stoic Mr. Darcy would be a monumental understatement.

“I received a letter from Charlotte,” she interrupted his jollities, Darcy lifting to meet her eyes with a wince as Alexander had a grip on his hair.

“You are smiling so it must be pleasant news.” He untangled the tiny fingers from his locks, transferring Alexander into his arms for sedate stroking.

“She has safely delivered, over a month ago now.”

“Why the delay in writing? All went well, I trust?”

Lizzy nodded. “Mr. Collins, if you believe it, is the father of twins! Two girls! Charlotte writes that the birth was long, two babies being utterly unsuspected.” Lizzy shook her head, eyes mildly glazed. “I cannot fathom having to birth two. Poor Charlotte. Be that as it may, she says the recovery was swift. The eldest daughter weighed over seven pounds and was perfectly healthy. The second was barely five pounds and rather sickly, hence the delay in notifying friends. Apparently she was slow to grow and they all worried, but eventually she caught on to nursing and is improving. They feel she is out of danger. Listen to this: Lady Catherine insisted on employing a wet nurse to augment the increased demands of two babies! Paid for it herself! Your aunt can surprise me yet.”

Darcy smiled with some surprise evident on his visage as well. “That is marvelous news. I do hope they encounter no further distress.” He gazed lovingly upon his son, embraced so closely to his beating heart, speaking in a coarse whisper, “Nothing could be worse than losing a child, unless it is losing a beloved wife. Neither event would I wish upon my worst enemy.”

Drawing Alexander's face near, Darcy bestowed numerous soft kisses, the babe calming until the tip of Darcy's nose brushed over pink lips. Instantly he opened wide, rooting for a meal. When that was not immediately forthcoming a loud bellow was emitted, the once placid face screwed in consternation.

“Apparently he is tired of me. Nourishment takes precedence over play or adoration, so it seems.” He carried the upset babe to Lizzy, already drawing the shawl across her chest while releasing buttons. The process of positioning and latching was now accomplished rapidly, Alexander's cries stifled instantly as his mouth became active in pleasanter pursuits.

Darcy encircled his wife's shoulders, securing the shawl for privacy although no one would enter his study unannounced. He kissed Lizzy's temple, caressing Alexander's leg while he nursed. Never tiring of these moments of felicity, Darcy happily eschewed the work on his desk. Stacks of parchment, receipts, and invoices would regenerate no matter how diligently he applied himself; however, these precious interludes were a one-time experience to be savored. Yes, Alexander would eat again in a few hours and so on, but each day he matured in subtle ways, vague evolutions that meant he would never be quite the same. They may be blessed with a dozen children, each precious, but all unique in their personalities and actions. Darcy and Lizzy wanted to wholly absorb each minute with Alexander to be treasured in their memories and hearts for all eternity.

Darcy sighed, resting his head against Lizzy's. “I rather envy Mr. Collins, shocking as that is to confess. I would not be averse to spoiling two babies. Perhaps we can arrange something for the next pregnancy,” he grinned.

Lizzy chucked. “Very sweet, but personally I prefer one baby at a time. And let us allow my bum to heal before we start planning further pregnancies. Unless, that is, we can figure a way for you to incubate one of them!”

Darcy laughed. “I am quite certain every woman on down through the endless ages has prayed for that miracle. Alas, the Almighty had a different plan. Very well then, one at a time is adequate, especially if they are all as adorable as our Alexander.” He clasped one foot, toes automatically curling around the tip of Darcy's thumb where it pressed lightly the length of the sole. Alexander shoved against the pressure, causing his father to smile at his strength. The occupied infant opened one eye, shifted slightly, and momentarily lost his grip on the nipple. After a frantic search the nipple was found, Alexander casting a baleful glance at Darcy before attending to the serious business of eating.

“You of all people should know better than to disturb a Darcy while dining,” Lizzy teased.

“Point well taken. Forgive me, my son.” He bent to softly kiss the baby's downy cheek, planted a second kiss onto the beautiful flesh of his wife's breast followed by several others winding up her chest until reaching her lips.

The kiss was long, gentle, soothing, and loving rather than passionate. Darcy withdrew mere inches to gaze into Lizzy's sparkling eyes, hand and fingers stroking over her jaw and cheek. “I love you, Elizabeth, unbelievably so. You are beautiful and extraordinarily desirable to me. I know we cannot make love yet, but I do hope you understand my yearning for you is unabated. I will wait as patiently as you need, but when we can be together again, I will love you hard with all my soul pouring into yours. Nothing, not time or even Alexander, can usurp your place in my life. You are my heartbeat and breath, my beloved, precious wife.”

They kissed again. Tenderness transmuting to urgency; passion growing as the kiss deepened; waves of desire swept through them both leaving them breathless. Lizzy moaned, hands gripping Alexander tightly, the infant oblivious as he ate. Darcy pulled away, his arousal well advanced, meeting Lizzy's glazed eyes with his own.

“Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, as she always did when overcome by desire.

Darcy smiled beatifically. “Soon, my lover, soon. Anticipation is sweet, and believe me, my expectations are high so therefore it will be sweet indeed. I can promise you this, my soul.” He kissed her again, temperately as passion was cooled, lingering teasingly over her lips before traveling along her jaw to then bury his face with a contented sigh into the delicate angle where slender neck met dainty shoulder.