“No, we shall journey to Matlock,” said Jane. “Nicholas has told me many stories of the home where he grew up, and I anticipate seeing it for myself.”
After wrapping his arm around his wife’s shoulders, Nicholas glanced down at her. “You will also be mistress there one day. I know my mother is eager to teach you as much as she can.”
“I know Lady Matlock mentioned she would be pleased to have you closer,” said Elizabeth. “But I never considered that you would move to Matlock so soon after Edward’s birth.”
“I now understand why you needed to rid yourself of that housekeeper,” said Jane, shaking her head. “Mama despised that I wanted to feed him as you did Alexander, and she would not let the baby sleep. She either spoke too loudly or insisted he needed to be held.” At least in Lady Matlock’s letter, she was beside herself with excitement, and in a drastic change of plans, decided not to journey to London for the Season. She intended to visit them at Netherfield, but she would not need to now.
“I still cannot understand how you laboured without a friendly face in the room. I believe I would have cried inconsolably.”
Elizabeth peered toward the door to ensure it was closed while Fitzwilliam’s shoulders shook from his amusement. “I was not alone, Jane.”
Her husband’s voice still rumbled with laughter. “I was so furious with you that day. You scared me to half to death.” Nicholas, who had known since nearly Alexander’s birth, joined Fitzwilliam’s laughing.
With a gaping expression, her sister glanced to each of them with a high-pitched “Pardon?”
“She refused to allow Lalande to send for the midwife,” said Fitzwilliam with a squeeze of Elizabeth’s hand.
“Fitzwilliam delivered Alexander.”
Jane’s expression of shock did not disappoint before Nicholas blew out a noisy breath. “You are a brave man. I still do not know how you did it. Father drank brandy with me in the study.”
“I am thankful you were not in your cups when you first viewed your child,” said Jane to her husband.
“My mother would have throttled me.”
Jane suddenly slapped his arm. “And you knew Fitzwilliam delivered Alexander and never told me. How could you?”
Before he could respond, the door creaked open, and they all turned as Georgiana entered. “Alexander and Edward were both asleep when I looked in on them.”
“Alexander has enjoyed today immensely,” said Fitzwilliam. “He also missed his afternoon nap. I am not surprised he fell asleep so early. I only hope he will sleep through the night and not awaken during the early hours of the morning.”
Elizabeth sighed and laid her head upon his shoulder. “Do you remember when Millie kept him from his afternoon nap? He fell asleep before supper and woke at midnight. We all took turns with him through the night.”
“I shall care for him if it is needed,” said Georgiana eagerly. “He is such a sweet child, and I see so little of him. I have missed so much of his growth. He has almost become a little boy in the time I was away.”
Fitzwilliam’s lips caressed the top of Elizabeth’s head. “You must finally accept he is walking and says more words every day. I daresay he will be as outspoken as you before he is five.”
Jane, Nicholas, and Georgiana laughed and shook their heads, but her husband was probably right. Alexander was much more like Elizabeth in demeanour than Fitzwilliam.
Her only response was to swat him on the arm. “Georgiana, I should like to hear some Christmas music. Would you mind terribly?”
“Oh, of course not.” She clasped her hands as she walked towards the instrument. Soon, a familiar melody filled the air. Georgiana’s playing, as well as her singing, had improved greatly during her time at school, and while she performed, the family did not talk but appreciatively listened and watched. As she progressed through to the final verse, her lilting voice gave life to the words.
As soon as Georgiana played the final chord, Elizabeth clapped before she wrapped her arm back through her husband’s. “You played that beautifully.”
Their younger sister, who in the past year had begun to behave with more of the famous Darcy reserve, particularly when in company, pinked in the cheeks at the praise from not just Elizabeth, but the rest of their party as well.
Jane rose and pulled Nicholas behind her. “Tonight has been lovely, but I may fall asleep where I sit if I do not retire.”
“We have no wish to keep you from your much-needed rest,” said Elizabeth with a smile. “I do remember those days well. I often startled myself awake while Alexander suckled at my breast. It was disconcerting, but I do not know how many times I inadvertently fell asleep while I nursed. It was a relief when he was old enough to lie in bed with me and eat.”
Her husband’s hand grasped hers and their fingers entwined. She cherished every one of those small gestures. “We shall depart for church at nine.” He rose and clasped Nicholas on the shoulder. “Unless you cannot rouse your wife.”
“I shall be awake for services.” A small lift to one side of Jane’s lips let on that she was amused by Fitzwilliam’s attempt at humour.
“I shall retire as well,” said Georgiana. She hugged her brother then Elizabeth. “I confess playing with Alexander all day has exhausted me. His is such a dear boy.”
Elizabeth glanced up at Fitzwilliam, who smiled widely. Where he had always been so stern in appearance, he now smiled more than ever. Those who met Alexander always attributed his similarity to Fitzwilliam to Thomas’s resemblance to his Darcy mother, but Alexander was much more like Fitzwilliam in looks than Thomas ever was. They were fortunate no one considered the differences as much as the similarities—even Georgiana’s suspicions had never been aroused.
“Yes, he is,” said Jane with a slight upturn of her lips. “He could not be anything but, could he?” Jane kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “Merry Christmas.” After she did the same to Fitzwilliam and Georgiana, she pulled Nicholas towards the stairs. Georgiana followed suit and departed behind them.
“You are looking tired yourself,” said Fitzwilliam quietly. “You worked so hard planning the holidays. I hope you did not overdo.” His hands took hers, he kissed the backs of both, and let them fall to their sides, still clasped together.
“I did not overdo. As you well know, Mrs. Reynolds did the bulk of the work. I simply made the plans.”
He pressed his forehead to hers with his eyebrows raised. “You helped decorate. I still cannot think of why you would climb that ladder to hang a garland. My stomach dropped when I found you thus. You could have fallen.”
She pulled her hand from his and set it on her hip. “I enjoyed decorating the house. I was also not high. I simply stepped up a few rungs to reach the mantel better and would not have gone further. Do not forget that Jonathan stood at my feet in the event I lost my balance.”
After Netherfield, Fitzwilliam had hired Jonathan and Matthew to work for them rather than the dukedom. Now, rather than serving as mere footmen, they were more accessible to serve Elizabeth and Alexander as they had Thomas. The two of them had not truly been footmen since. Instead, on those rare occasions Fitzwilliam was unavailable, they accompanied Elizabeth on rides or trailed behind her and Alexander when they walked.
He drew back but pulled Elizabeth into his arms. “Next time, you will request me. I should be the one to catch you.” His bottom lip protruded much like Alexander’s did when he pouted.
“Very well. I shall keep your chastisement in mind.”
His lips claimed hers and cradled them as though they were fine china, sending a pleasant shiver through her body. How she hoped his kisses would always invoke such reactions in her. She clung to the back of his topcoat to anchor herself lest she dissolve into a puddle at his feet.
As he stepped back, his hands slid along her sides, one grasping her hand and pulling her from the drawing room, up the stairs, to their chambers, where he closed the door behind him. Before he could draw her into his arms again, she scoote
d towards the nursery, opening the door and slipping inside. Millie knitted in a chair by the window, but she smiled and stood. “Miss Darcy certainly tired him out. He has not made a peep since she laid him down.”
After Millie departed, Elizabeth leaned against his cot and placed her hand to his back, letting the even rhythm of his breathing relax her.
“He is well.” Fitzwilliam’s arms wound around her waist, and she pressed against his solid warmth.
“I know. I simply needed to be with him.”
“Do not let Georgiana’s comments of his growth bother you. He will continue to need you for some time to come. He is not ready for Eton or Cambridge yet.”
A sharp pang travelled through her chest. She did not want to think of him going away to school or Cambridge. “I know it will come. I just do not want to miss a moment of this time. I suppose it is nonsensical.”
“Perhaps you are more sensitive than usual since it is Christmas. I have missed my mother and father more during Christmastide than at other times of the year. My memories of holidays when I was young come to mind when I see the kissing bough hung once more with fresh holly and mistletoe. I caught my parents under it on Christmas Eve nearly every year.”
She wound her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes, planting a soft kiss to his lips. “Perhaps I am more sentimental because of Christmas, but I am more inclined to believe it is due to our second child.”
“Second child?” His forehead wrinkled in the most adorably confused manner. How had he completely missed the absence of her courses? They loved one another often enough that he could easily know, yet he had not noticed.
“I believe it happened when Alexander finally ceased nursing. This child has not quickened yet but give him another month. I daresay he will make himself a nuisance before long.”
The moment realization hit, he gasped and turned her to face him. His forehead touched hers as his shoulders heaved in with a massive breath and relaxed. “You truly think . . .?”
“My breasts are sore, and I eat, though I rarely have a huge appetite. The smell of Nicholas’s kippers this morning made me want to run for the rose garden.”
“In winter?” he said with a laugh.
“Even if they were fertilizing them, the plants would smell inordinately better than kippers.”
With a deep laugh, he lifted her in his arms and carried her back to his chambers, where he set her on her feet. Once he helped divest her of her clothes, he lowered to his knees and pressed his lips just above her navel. “I am your Papa, little one. You have the best Mama in the world, so you must not give her too many problems. I do not think your Uncle Nicholas would appreciate Mama becoming sick during his breakfast.”
She ran her fingers through his dark curls, loving the gentle tone he used while he spoke to their unborn child. It was so like how he spoke to Alexander when he was still in her womb, and even how he spoke to him now when they played.
Fitzwilliam always had time to spend with his son, taking him for walks or playing blocks. Even Mrs. Reynolds praised her master’s skills as a father. She never failed to comment how few would take such an interest in a child so young, yet he made a point of setting aside generous amounts of time not only for Alexander but also her.
“I am cold, dearest,” she said after a few minutes of him speaking utter nonsense.
“Forgive me.” He helped her under the coverlet, removing his own clothes before crawling in beside her and drawing her close. “I cannot tell you how I feel at this moment. I missed so much with Alexander.”
“We could not help that.” She turned onto her side so they faced one another.
Fitzwilliam tugged her closer. “I know. When you still carried him, I remember how my chest ached every time I would see you and your body had changed. I felt the same with his growth during your mourning.”
“At least we did not have to wait the entire year.” Her voice held a bit of a higher tone.
“I would have survived, but it would have been so difficult to return to London for that last separation.”
“I know. You will be with me for the entirety of this child.”
“Except the birth,” he said, his head hitching back a hair.
“Especially the birth.” She kissed his lips. “I promise not to make you deliver him this time, but I want you with me.”
“The midwife will object.” He whispered as though someone might hear.
“Then we shall find another midwife.”
“How many midwives do you think are in this part of Derbyshire?” He finally smiled rather than being so serious.
“Enough that we can find one to do as we ask. Else you will be delivering this child.” She arched her eyebrow, and he grasped her by the back of the head and kissed her hard. He rolled her beneath him, only releasing her lips when she was breathless and wanted more. “What was that for?”
“I want to do that whenever you lift that one eyebrow. Most of the time we are in company, and it would be wholly inappropriate. You simply made the mistake of provoking me while we were in the perfect place.”
“You are saying this,” she lifted her eyebrow again, “provokes you?”
He claimed her lips again until she started laughing and pressed him back.
“You have given me a wealth of power. Do you realise? I shall be able to disturb your equanimity wherever we go.”
“Be kind,” he said in a warning tone.
“Perhaps I shall be kind to us both.” She lifted her eyebrow, and he dove back for more not stopping until he had collapsed atop her, his breathing in gasps.
“I believe I enjoy provoking you,” she said with a giggle. Her body still tingled from their lovemaking, and she cherished the heaviness of him against her. She loved him so much it was frightening at times.
“What did you think when you first saw me?” His question surprised her. He had never asked her of it before. He lifted onto a forearm while his fingers trailed along her face. “I can tell you what I remember. I remember your eyes being what I first noticed. They sparkled, and I could tell you were amused by the proceedings.”
“I was so uncomfortable with the attention of the entire room upon me. The notoriety was ridiculous. I laughed at their fascination with a country nobody—at why I was such an oddity.”
His fingers combed through her hair. “You had these beautiful curls piled on top of your head with jewelled pins that glimmered in the candlelight. You charmed me.”
She took his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “When I gazed down from the stairs, I saw you standing beside your father—so tall and handsome. You were so dour. I wanted more than anything to see you smile.”
He rolled them both to their sides as they held each other close. “I smile a great deal now.”
“You do, and the sight makes me content. I like to believe it is because of me.”
“It is because of you,” he said with a frown.
“You are also happier because of Alexander. I cannot claim all of the credit. I still wonder how I became so fortunate. After I wed Thomas, I never thought I would be joined to a man I love with my entire being, yet here I am. As much as people could scorn how we began, I cannot regret it. I can never regret what brought us together, and what gave us Alexander.”
He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “I thank God every morning that I am blessed to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“We shall have another baby to join the family this summer. Do you want another son, a son to inherit Pemberley, or would you prefer a daughter?”
“A daughter can inherit as well as a son. I have no care as long as you and the baby are well. I confess a petite little girl with long mahogany curls streaming behind her sounds about perfect.”
“You desire a girl who resembles me?” She laughed and shook her head. “My father always says I am why his hair turned grey. I am inordinately fond of your lovely dark hair. It would be such a shame for it to turn silver.”
He feathered his fingers along her ribs, making her squirm. “Are you saying you would not love me with grey hair?”
“No,” she said with a gasp. “I do love your dark hair, but nothing time alters will change my feelings. I shall love you with all that I am until my dying breath.”
“Good.” He kissed her long and tortuously slow before he finally drew back, pressing his forehead to hers. “My feelings—well, I do not know how to love you by halves. You, Elizabeth Darcy, are my world. I would give you all I owned if you only asked.”
“I do not want your possessions. I only want you.”
“And that is why you are perfect.”
What could she do when he spoke so sweetly? Well, all she could do was kiss him as passionately as he did her. After all, he said precisely what was in her heart as well.
Epilogue
Alexander Osborne stood on the steps of Pemberley watching his father walk towards the old chapel near the river. Fitzwilliam Darcy had built the small structure before the birth of Alexander’s younger brother Bennet, in honour of their mother, who was inordinately fond of sitting across the river and enjoying nature. The structure had only been used for family events such as christenings and churchings, so it was small and always quiet.
His father no longer bore the dark curls that could be seen in the youthful portraits in the gallery, but now wore a crown of silver-grey that shone brightly against the autumn reds, browns, and oranges that decorated the Derbyshire peaks.
“What is it?” came a light voice from behind him. Aunt Jane always knew when he needed to talk. Even when he was young, he could tell Aunt Jane whatever he wished. She never judged and gave infinitely wise counsel. Not to say that he never trusted his mother or his father with his problems, but his aunt knew how to reach him when no one else did.
“He is so different.”
“Of course he is. He could not lose your mother without losing a part of himself.” Alexander’s mother, Elizabeth Darcy, had passed from this earth while she slept a fortnight ago. She had been interred in that tiny chapel by the river—the chapel where his father walked. As of late, he spent his days either in her favourite spot where she sat and read or inside where he could trace his fingers over the stone that covered her final resting place. A new rose appeared there daily.
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