The Trouble with Mr. Darcy (15 page)

On Christmas Eve the foursome gathered in the upper story bedchamber after dining with their guests. Darcy read the nativity poems of Henry Vaughan and the first Christmas story from the Bible until both boys were soundly asleep. He sat the Bible aside and glanced to Lizzy, who was barely awake and propped half reclining with Michael curled against her chest. No words were spoken but communication was clear. He smiled, brushing lightly over her cheek before leaning to extinguish the bedside lamp, and then drew Alexander into his embrace. They slept as a family, unknowingly beginning a tradition that would carry down through the years.

Christmas came, Lizzy’s crazed planning paying off in a lavish celebration with local friends that could now fully be enjoyed. Everyone noted the restoration to the Lizzy they had grown to love, although no one commented of course.

Nevertheless, Lizzy’s full recovery from the strange illness that had beset her was gradual. There were moments after their heavenly reunion when emotions and melancholy assaulted her. Thankfully, they rapidly receded both in frequency and intensity. Darcy was never far from her side, his attentiveness more acute than typical and welcomed by Lizzy. George insisted on administering the special herbals and dietary requirements to reestablish the balance to her body, but as he had suspected, reuniting with her husband was the best medicine.

By the time they packed up their belongings and two children for the trip to Netherfield for the event of Kitty Bennet’s wedding, Lizzy’s symptoms were eradicated and she was her old self in every way. The mutual love the young family innately possessed was more than adequate to overcome the months of hardship.

As with many such trials one faces in life, this was one they would never forget or wish to repeat; yet they could not deny that further lessons were learned and their bond was stronger as a result.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

Again at Netherfield

Where are you two boys off to?”

Darcy turned toward his wife. “Nowhere in particular…”

“The stables!” interrupted the ringing voice above his head.

Lizzy laughed, glancing at her sheepish husband before gazing into the shining eyes of Alexander, perched on Darcy’s shoulders. “Well, it is nice to know you have learned the lesson of honesty, Alexander.”

“We plan to start in the stables, but one never knows where one may end up. That is all I meant,” Darcy intoned with a straight face, reaching to tickle Michael, who was waving every limb in wild mirth from his comfortable roost in Lizzy’s arms.

“Of course. Alexander, you understand that Xerxes is not here but home at Pemberley with the other ponies?”

“Yes, Mama. Papa say we ride Moon.”

“Oh, did he now?” She looked sharply at her spouse, who was now making faces at a giggling Michael. “Do you really think this wise, Fitzwilliam?”

“Moon is as docile as old Sheba. We will only be walking around the yard. Nothing more, I promise, and he will be on my lap. I will hold on very tight, dearest. You need not worry.” He bent to kiss her on the cheek, securely clasping Alexander’s legs to his chest, and then blew into Michael’s neck, sending the baby into fresh gales of laughter.

Lizzy looked from her sincere husband to the enthusiastic face of her firstborn and sighed. When it came to horses her authority was nonexistent. Darcy’s infatuation with all things equestrian had been passed to Alexander.

“Very well. Just be careful.”

“You know I will.” Darcy caressed her chin. “I love you, Mrs. Darcy. Have fun with your mother and sister planning wedding minutiae.”

“I am sure I will, although Mama will be heartbroken not to greet her favorite son-in-law.”

“She can share her delight in my presence tonight,” he responded to her tease. “Perhaps by then the bulk of her raptures will be exhausted.”

“I would not count on that! So you will not be taking tea with us?”

He winced. “Ah, well, I was thinking I would take Alexander into Meryton later and…”

Lizzy shook her head as she rose to bestow a tender kiss. “I understand. Be prepared for some scolding, however, as my mother is anxious to see Alexander and will be vexed that you have spirited him away.”

“I daresay she will be easily comforted in spoiling Michael all afternoon. Feel free to expose my selfishness in keeping Alexander with me before he is diverted by dozens of cousins come tomorrow. Undoubtedly I will barely glimpse any of you once Netherfield is descended upon.”

“Poor Mr. Darcy!” Lizzy laughed up at him. “Now go and enjoy yourselves.”

“We will.” He bent for a last kiss for himself and Alexander.

“Bye, Mama! Love!”

Lizzy waved as they exited the manor, Darcy bouncing and weaving side to side with Alexander laughing and holding on tightly to his father’s collar.

Both parties passed pleasant afternoons their first full day in Hertfordshire—Darcy alone with his son, exploring the stables and countryside, and Lizzy with her mother and Kitty. Evening would bring them together again as they hosted the first of several planned dinners.

Lizzy and Darcy stood in the parlor, the warm, spring-like evening air of mid-March flowing through the open windows.

“There,” she said with a tug to her husband’s impeccably tied cravat, “you are perfect.”

“Thank you, madam. I am sure Samuel will once again rest easier knowing my wife has given her approval.” He kissed her cheek and then turned to Alexander with a solemn nod toward Lizzy. “What have I taught you, Alexander?”

“Mama, you beautiful. Pretty dress.”

Lizzy curtsied, brown taffeta crunching. “Why thank you, kind sir.” Then she laughed gaily, kneeling for a tight embrace. “You are as handsome as your father, sweetheart. How do you like your suit?” She fingered the frilly, chambray collar framing his round face, brushing invisible lint from the blue flannel jacket tailored to mimic a gentleman’s coat only far looser and lighter. The roomy breeches were adorned with simple gold buttons, white-stockinged feet encased in basic house slippers of kid leather. It was the first time the toddler had ever worn anything other than the typical free flowing children’s dresses, or the airy Indian garments his godfather managed to provide no matter how Darcy frowned. He was a bit young for his garments, but he did look absolutely adorable.

Nonetheless, it was clear by the expression on his face, coupled with the constant tugging on clinging fabric, that he was far from enthusiastic about the change in attire.

“Itchy, Mama.”

“It is flannel, love. It cannot be scratchy. You will grow used to these clothes in time, but I promise you can change into your nightgown soon. Try not to squirm. Look at your papa. He is not fidgeting, is he? And his jacket is wool, which is scratchy.”

“Your mother is correct, Alexander. Try to be strong.”

“Ah! The corruption begins already!” George strode through the door at that moment, breezy and regal in an Indian silk of navy blue and silver, his three years in England not affecting his clothing preferences appreciably. Alexander took one look at his unencumbered godfather and assumed a childish pout astonishingly similar to his father’s frown.

“We were beginning to presume you had decided not to join us, Uncle. The Bennets should be here at any moment.”

“I was assuring that the chess set was ready. Elizabeth’s father has now surmounted me by three games at last count. I must prove my superiority!” He dramatically lifted his chin, fist high in the air, and winked at Alexander, who erupted in giggles, itchy clothing forgotten.

A footman entered, announcing the arrival of the Bennets. George scooped a still giggling Alexander into his arms as they moved into the foyer to greet their guests.

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet had changed little in the past years. Mrs. Bennet continued to bemoan her husband’s imminent demise, but the older gentleman showed nary a sign of going anywhere. If anything he held himself with an unusual spunkiness. Apparently the joys of observing his eldest daughters find happiness while providing him with an ever-increasing clutch of grandchildren had restored a semblance of youth. Mrs. Bennet was as breathless and flighty as ever; the consolation of fulfilling her appointed task in marrying her daughters adequately not yet penetrating her consciousness.

“Why, Mr. Darcy! How delightful it is to see you! How can we ever repay you for leasing Netherfield for the wedding? Your generosity is a testament to your excellent character!”

“Thank you, madam, but once again I must assert your error. All praise must be extended to Mrs. Darcy.”

“Nonsense! We know it is your doing, sir! Blessed we were the day you entered our lives, is it not so, Lizzy?”

“Absolutely, Mama. However, in this instance I fear my husband is telling the truth. You see, he preferred the joy of dwelling at Longbourn until I prevailed upon him the need for additional guest quarters. Quite distressed he was at the sacrifice, but I insisted.”

“Oh! What a dear, dear man you are!” She daubed at her teary eyes, missing Lizzy’s smirk and Darcy’s barely concealed frown of disgust.

Greetings erupted in earnest. Alexander was engulfed with hugs and kisses while the men greeted each other with more restraint. Lizzy promised that Michael would be brought down later, only then able to steer her sister to the back of the small crowd for a private chat.

“Have you heard from your fiancé?”

“Not as yet. I know he is busy in his own way to prepare for our wedding, but I do wish he would hurry along.”

“Have no fears, sister dear. I am sure he is as frantic to be with you as you are to be with him.” Lizzy smiled at Kitty’s pretty blush. “Surely you do not believe otherwise?”

Kitty shook her head. “No. I no longer doubt his devotion and honesty. I merely persist in a ridiculous fear that an unnameable force will separate us for yet a few more months!”

“I doubt that shall happen. When do you expect him to arrive?”

“Tomorrow or the following day. He was unsure, but he is insistent on passing a few days with the entire family prior to our wedding. How about Georgiana? Have you heard from her?”

“Not since they departed from Paris. William is fretful, not that there is anything remarkable in that.” She glanced fondly toward her spouse. “I assure him that all is well. She is in competent hands and would not miss your wedding.”

Kitty halted her just outside the parlor doorway, lowering her voice seriously. “Lizzy, I must inform you. We received word today that Lydia and Mr. Wickham will be coming to the wedding. I did not expect them; after all, they did not stand at your and Jane’s wedding, or at Mary’s. I am very sorry!”

“Do not be anxious. It was inevitable and we have been fortunate not to encounter Mr. Wickham in all these years. I appreciate you warning me so I can prepare William and Georgiana.” She looked at Darcy, who was currently in amused conversation with his father-in-law while Alexander tugged on his grandfather’s bushy muttonchops from his perch in the older man’s arms. “They do not anticipate residing at Netherfield, I pray.”

“Oh no! Papa disabused Mama of that notion immediately! There is more than enough room at Longbourn.” She too glanced toward Darcy with warmth. “I would never allow such disregard for Mr. Darcy’s feelings, nor Georgiana’s. I am truly sorry, Lizzy!”

Lizzy smiled warmly, kissing Kitty’s forehead. “Think on it no further, my dear. This is your time to celebrate. Nothing shall be allowed to mar that. Come, let us start the rejoicing now.”

***

The evening’s festivities were over, the Bennets safely returned to Longbourn after a delicious meal. Mrs. Hanford hummed while she knitted and kept an eye on Alexander, who was finally rid of the encumbering garments and nestled in sleep wearing a loose, cotton nightgown and hugging Dog against his chest. Miss Lisa read a book by the fire, all comfortably ensconced in the chamber selected to serve as nursery for the duration of their stay. The remaining Darcys relaxed in the tiny sitting room attached to their favorite Netherfield sleeping chamber.

Darcy sat at the small writing desk attending to a stack of papers that Mr. Andrew Daniels, his London solicitor, had sent to Netherfield. Mostly they were lists of various business matters to be handled upon his arrival in London, nothing urgent thankfully, as Darcy was distracted by the vision of his wife nursing their son.

As always, Lizzy respected his preference for silence as he worked. Her gentle murmurs and crooning to Michael were dulcet. She rocked slowly, eyes intent on the calm face of the babe, by all appearances ignoring her husband. If there was a bit more breast showing than was strictly necessary for the task it
seemed
to be guileless.

Darcy smiled, turning his gaze toward the parchment before him. He was not really fooled by her ploy, reasonably familiar with his wife’s tactics. Nor was he in the slightest bit dismayed, except that he really did want to peruse these lists and pen a brief note for Georgiana to be posted on the morrow.

He frowned. As Lizzy had intimated to Kitty, he was concerned that there was no letter from his sister. She may have been twenty years of age and well cared for, but some habits never die and one was the need to protect her. And, of course, he simply missed her horribly and was anxious to be reunited.