In the Arms of Mr. Darcy

by Sharon Lathan

  He wisely recognized that being a husband and father did not erase those parts of his life that had ruled for some thirty years, and that fulfilling those fundamental desires kept him balanced and thus a better husband and father. But he also recognized that a portion of his aggressive motivation was a result of the loneliness and emptiness to his life prior to finding Elizabeth. With those holes filled, the urgency for action was not as keen.

  Therefore, he started to consider ways to scale his diversities into something more manageable. So far it involved nothing concrete beyond talking to Mr. Daniels, his solicitor, about the best way to consolidate his holdings and streamline matters so his constant attention would not be as vital. It was too soon to see any benefit or make permanent decisions, but he was already surprised at how just broaching the idea eased the burdens weighing upon his heart. He could now hold Alexander and know that as time marched on he would be the kind of father he wanted to be to his children.

  Elizabeth rose, moving about the chamber and straightening scattered belongings while Darcy played with the baby. He smiled, kissing the round cheeks and sweet lips, and nuzzling into the squat neck with blowing noises. Alexander arched and wiggled happily, released giggles and babbling vocalizations, and reached purposefully toward his father’s face and hair.

  Darcy felt that it was only fair for Alexander to be blessed with his wife’s thick ringlets since he was burdened with his father’s nose, a partial jest that Lizzy persisted in countering. The infant’s face had lost all traces of his mother’s features, settling into an infantile replica of his father. Of course, the truth was that Darcy thought his child the most handsome infant alive and was immeasurably proud of the pronounced resemblance, even with the prominent nose.

  “Here, sweet, your rattle.” Darcy repositioned the baby so that he was sitting on his lap and reached into the basket of toys kept by the sofa. He handed Alexander a colorfully painted dried gourd with a slim wooden handle, one of a half dozen rattles in the basket. Alexander instantly grabbed onto the toy and swung the round bulb toward his widely opened mouth. His aim was not the best, the hard object knocking into his nose and causing him to emit a high squeal. He was not to be deterred, however, the rattle again repositioned and the attempt to gnaw on the too-large toy upsetting him far more than the crash into his nose.

  “You are supposed to shake it, thusly, Son,” Darcy instructed, clasping the fat rattle-wielding wrist and moving it to demonstrate. Alexander watched, fascinated, joyfully bouncing his limbs and laughing, but as soon as Darcy released his wrist the rattle was again drawn toward the yawning mouth. “Everything into the mouth with you. Crazy boy,” he said affectionately.

  “He likes to eat,” Lizzy said. “I have no idea where he gets that desire from.” She winked at her spouse, Darcy merely grinning. “However, at this point in time I think it is because he is trying to cut his first teeth.”

  “Truly? How do you know?”

  “Feel his lower gum,” she said, picking up two envelopes off the desk and walking back toward the sofa while Darcy did as told.

  “I feel hard ridges. Let papa see, Alexander. Now you can open your mouth. Oh, be still, you will get the rattle back in a moment. It looks a bit red, Elizabeth. Will it cause him pain?”

  “It can, so I understand. But Mrs. Hanford has a salve that helps. George knew of a formula as well and concocted a liquid that will help if he is uncomfortable. So far he seems unperturbed other than needing to chew on everything in sight. This is also normal, so I am told. Perhaps this smaller rattle that can fit into his mouth will please him.” She retrieved a round, disc-shaped silver rattle filled with beads, one side cut out for small hands to grip. Instantly the gourd was discarded for the new, shiny toy. After a few satisfying shakes, the rattle unerringly entered his mouth for serious chewing, Alexander gibbering happily.

  Darcy squeezed him tightly and delivered a kiss to the top of his head. “Better now? Cool, hard metal does the trick, yes? I presume teeth are why he has been drooling so copiously lately?” He turned to his wife with raised brow.

  “I believe so. Just when Samuel breathes in relief over the absence of regurgitated milk he must contend with saliva stains.”

  “He will learn to deal with it,” Darcy answered with a laugh.

  “I have not had the opportunity to share the post with you, what with you distracted with traumatic visions of Georgiana eloping in the darkest hours of the night.”

  “Hysterical. Is there no end to the misery inflicted upon me by the women in my life?”

  “Perhaps this may help, or perhaps not.” She waved the envelopes. “One should cheer you although the other will likely educe a groan. Which first?”

  “I need cheering, especially since my wife has chosen to deny my fervid need for succoring.” He replied with a grin.

  “Very well then,” she answered, ignoring his remark. “We received a letter from Anne. That is, Mrs. Raul Penaflor Aleman de Vigo, as she made sure to sign it.”

  “Are they not still in Bath?”

  “Yes.”

  “She is writing letters on her honeymoon?” Darcy shook his head in mock shock, opening the parchment paper handed to him by Lizzy as she sat down beside. “What is wrong with that man? Anne should be far too busy to pen a letter.”

  “Just because you kept your new wife locked within the bedchamber for several weeks does not mean every gentleman does so. Bath is lovely, so I am told.”

  “I do not recall you arguing the treatment. In fact, I seem to remember an abundance of satisfied expressions,” he said with a leer and arched brow.

  Lizzy reddened slightly but laughed. “Just read the letter. You will note that it is not a long letter, so perhaps Dr. Penaflor is not so disappointing in your estimation after all.”

  “Good for Anne,” he murmured, unconsciously bouncing the leg Alexander sat on as he began to read. The baby, of course, immediately forgot the rattle and opted to make a grab for the pretty fluttering paper. Darcy held it away, shushing and absently redirecting the silver chew toy back into the infant’s mouth as he continued to read. Alexander, however, chose that moment to notice his feet, dropping the rattle in a concentrated effort to secure the strange, wiggling objects and bring them to his mouth.

  Darcy’s smile widened as he read. “She sounds so happy,” he said softly. “Dr. Penaflor is a good man and I never doubted his love for my cousin. But I know her well, know the tenor of her letters in the past, and this is entirely altered. It is a welcome relief to know she is content, blissful even. No one deserves it more than Anne.”

  “Let us pray Lady Catherine allows them to resume their blissful happiness once returned to Rosings Park. Frankly, I cannot fathom living in that house with your aunt breathing down my neck.”

  “It is a large house. And, I am not sure if you noticed, but the suite Anne ordered to be redecorated is on the opposite wing from Lady Catherine’s residence.”

  Lizzy laughed. “Oh indeed! I noticed. Very shrewd of Anne.”

  “I believe Dr. Penaflor had a say in the matter. He may wish to maintain civility with his mother-in-law, but he is not a fool.”

  Lizzy sighed, staring dreamily for a moment. “It was a beautiful wedding, even with all the pomp. Anne was lovely in that powder blue dress. A perfect color for her skin tone.” Darcy took her hand, smiling. “I admit that I did not expect the ceremony to be charming in any way.”

  “It was fairly meretricious.”

  “Yes, but within the pretention it was beautiful. Once Raul and Anne were at the altar you only saw them so radiant and in love. The obscene profusion of flowers and glittering regalia faded in the presence of their joy.”

  “Aunt Catherine was disappointed that Dr. Penaflor’s parents were not outwardly impressed by the flamboyance,” he said with an evil chuckle. Alexander suddenly voiced a flood of gibberish, seriously gazing into Darcy’s eyes. Darcy laughed, hugging the soft body tightly. “You agree, do you, Alexander? They wer
e enamored by you more than any of the lavish decorations.”

  He lifted the baby, holding him upright and facing toward him, and commenced an intent, articulate verbal exchange. Lizzy tended to engage in infantile speech when chatting with her son, but Darcy refused to do so. Lizzy forever teased her husband about using five syllable words and complex sentences to a newly born child, but Alexander responded to the erudite commentary with rapt attention.

  “Your Aunt Mary’s wedding was understated but equally beautiful, wasn’t it? Remember the yellow wild flowers that captured your gaze? And your aunt’s purple ribbons that so fascinated you? Yes, you do remember, my intelligent boy. Perhaps you shall be musically inclined, unlike your incompetent father, since you hearkened to the organ music and singing. Which reminds me,” he said, turning to Lizzy, “Mr. Daniels said the newlyweds are expected home in two days. Did Mrs. Daniels send word?”

  “She did,” Lizzy answered. “She plans to prepare the house with fresh flowers and linens, stock the cupboards, and so on, before her son and his new wife returned, and wanted to know if Jane and I wished to assist. We made a list of Mary’s favorite food items to be purchased and delivered. Mrs. Smyth was not pleased to have Darcy House servants delivering goods, even to Russell Square.”

  “That is ridiculous. Russell Square is an upscale neighborhood and the house Mr. Daniels purchased is excellent. Did she argue with you?” Darcy asked, his tone abruptly dark and eyes narrowing.

  “Of course not. She merely pursed her lips in that disapproving way of hers. I doubt if she concurs that a newly built area, even one near Bedford Square that is primarily inhabited by lawyers and others from the professional class, is ‘upscale.’”

  “She is walking a thin path, Elizabeth. These continued disrespecting attitudes and veiled insults are annoying me most profoundly. Do you still insist she stays?”

  “You know as well as I that she is an excellent housekeeper, William. I can handle it and she truly does not bother me all that much. I find her as amusing as George does, which I know is unkind, but I cannot help it.”

  Darcy grunted. “Very well. But one toe over the line and she can find employment elsewhere with no recommendation from me.”

  “Anyway, while I am at Mary’s house I will make sure the pianoforte in situated appropriately near the east window as you requested.” She smiled warmly at her husband, caressing over his thigh. “She will be absolutely stunned when she sees your gift.”

  “Our gift,” he corrected. “It was only logical. Mary may not be the most talented pianist, but she loves to play so should have an instrument of her own. I just pray Mr. Daniels appreciates her musical ability or he may retaliate by charging me double fees! Now, curiosity is taking hold and I am in an improved humor—although I still may need a few kisses at the least to restore my harmony, so tell me what is in the second envelope.”

  “A hand-penned invitation to the wedding of Miss Caroline Bingley and the Earl of Blaisdale—”

  Darcy groaned.

  “—for the fourteenth day of April—”

  “I am sure we cannot make it. I am quite certain that is the day you and Alexander will be sitting for your portrait.”

  Lizzy laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. “You know that is not true. We have our sittings scheduled for this week. And besides, a wedding takes precedence over a portrait painting.”

  “Not in my opinion! You thought Anne’s wedding was garish with Lady Catherine as organizer? Can you even imagine what Caroline Bingley will concoct?” He shuddered. “It is too painful to fathom. Furthermore, how can I stand at her wedding when I so abhor that man? Even Caroline does not deserve that fate.”

  “I think you are too harsh, William, as we have already discussed. She is very happy! You must believe me when I tell you it is so. Lord Blaisdale for all his faults—and I know you are not exaggerating what you know but rather minimalizing for my delicate ears—is quite devoted to her. It is strange, in many respects, but they do seem perfectly suited and loving.”

  Darcy grunted but did not object. He hated to admit it, but the pairing was logical. He had not forgotten the attention directed toward Caroline at the opera, and as Lord Blaisdale’s infatuation for red-haired women was common knowledge, even to Darcy who avoided gossip, he was not surprised. Everyone knew of Blaisdale’s disastrous first marriage, most gentlemen sympathetic to his plight despite the Earl’s reprehensible behavior, so it was understandable that he would be careful with his second marriage. Caroline was beautiful and well-bred: the perfect Society wife. She, of course, craved wealth and prestige, and would have no expectations for a faithful spouse who loved her.

  Darcy had to admit that whenever the two were together they appeared quite content, bordering on affectionate. He now knew how a woman looked upon a man she loved, and vice versa, and recognized the expressions cast between Caroline and Blaisdale as indicative of mutual adoration and desire at the least. Charles was convinced of their regard and thrilled for his sister. And that, of course, was what it came down to, as Lizzy pointed out in the next breath.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said decisively. “Caroline is your best friend’s sister and obliquely related to us, so therefore we will be attending the wedding.”

  Darcy frowned but said nothing further on the subject, knowing she was correct.

  “Look on the bright side, it should be amusing! Perhaps it will cheer you after suffering through Georgiana’s debut at Almack’s.”

  “Or it will be two insults within the space of a week that may topple me over the edge to insanity.”

  “My, you are dramatic. Are you going to be dramatic like your papa, Alexander? Hmmm?” She leaned to retrieve another dropped toy from the floor, stopping to nibble on his fat toes before giving the stuffed hound dog back. One floppy ear went directly into the baby’s mouth as she turned her thoughtful gaze upon Darcy. “I have been thinking it may be best if you do not chaperone Georgiana. Wait, hear me out!” She lifted her hand to stay his response. “You can trust Georgie not to do anything foolish. She deserves this time to have fun, and I am not so sure if she will relax with you glowering at anyone who tries to dance with her!”

  “I promise I shan’t.”

  “You will try not to, but it will come naturally, my love.” She smiled, kissing his cheek. “You will be uncomfortable in the atmosphere and worried for her. Emotion will show on your face to some degree no matter how you strive for nonchalance. There are others who can chaperone, sparing you the torture.”

  “Who did you have in mind?” He asked suspiciously.

  “I was thinking of George or…”

  “My Uncle George? Are you serious?” He sputtered. “He would be too busy flirting with every female over the age of five-and-twenty to notice if a gentleman acts inappropriately with my sister!”

  “Dramatic again,” she countered with a shake of her head and laugh. “Indubitably, George would be pouring on the charm, but he loves Georgie too much to ignore her. You trust him to escort her to Stevenage this summer—”

  “I was coerced and taken unawares,” he inserted grumpily.

  “—so how is this worse? And there is also Richard. He is her guardian, after all, and not so apt to flirt with his heart locked upon Lady Fotherby.”

  Darcy remained silent, his face set in the expression Lizzy knew meant he was considering. She waited, watching as he kept his focus upon Alexander, bouncing and caressing idly as he frowned and thought her arguments through. Finally, “Very well. I concur that I am overreacting, slightly. I will accompany her this Wednesday for her first appearance. She has requested my presence to ease her nervousness. After that, I will permit Richard and my uncle to alternate if they wish.” He glanced up into her eyes, smiling faintly. “I need to learn to let go, yes?”

  Lizzy smiled in return, holding his eyes with love and respect, the teasing left unspoken. “Here, let me take our drooling wiggler to Mrs. Hanford so we can begin preparing for the
symphony.”

  When she returned Darcy had doffed his jackets and cravat and was bent over the desk they shared in their smaller Darcy House bedchamber. He was rereading Anne’s letter when she approached and slipped her arms around his waist from behind, leaning onto his back and squeezing. He straightened and turned, drawing her gently into his embrace. She draped her arms over his shoulders, twining her fingers into his hair and pulling his head down to meet her upturned lips.

  “What were you saying about needing a few kisses to restore your harmony?” She whispered against his lips.

  “Hmmm. I believe I said they would suffice if we had no time for more.”

  Her chuckle was stifled by a passionately seeking mouth. The kisses, or rather one continuous kiss, began tenderly but rapidly smoldered and flamed. Darcy held her firmly against his chest, one hand between her shoulder blades and the other flattened upon her derriere and pressing hard into his pelvis. Heat flared between them, readily felt through the thin layers of clothing.

  Yet, despite the ever-present desire to make love to his wife and the instantaneous emergence of his physical response to her passionate touch, Darcy restrained himself. His teasing references to engaging in rushed lovemaking were not untrue or unwelcome, but he comprehended that preparing for a social event took time. He appreciated how carefully Elizabeth fussed over her appearance for these engagements and knew without a doubt that she would stun him with her beauty and perfection. Therefore, he stifled the groan lodged in his throat and pulled away from her lips to commence a languid exploration of her neck with gentle kisses. He moved his hand to the small of her back and slackened the pressure holding her body tightly against his.

  “I was thinking,” Lizzy whispered huskily, biting his earlobe sharply, “I bathed this morning so do not really need to do so again, and I am sure Marguerite has my garments prepared, and you can remove my day dress as well as she, so… Oh!”