A Baby for Mr. Darcy

by J Dawn King

  Her dear George was correct. Georgiana Darcy would need to remain separate from both her brother and his new wife. And, she would need to discover if the baby was truly a Darcy. Never had her brother spoken of a Mr. Samuel Mansfield. Something horribly disgusting was taking place under Pemberley’s roof.

  Knowing what needed to be done, Georgiana decided she would wait until everyone was in bed before searching out the family Bible in the library. There, birth, marriage, and death records were kept current. As George had suggested, William never failed to keep it up to date. It was probably the first task he had performed after arriving. She would discover what he had recorded, then send what she learned to her dearest George.

  Smiling to herself, she remembered how they had come up with his nom de plume. Roberta was in place of his middle name, Robert. He had suggested Crim as a shortened form of criminal since he had stolen her heart.

  Georgiana giggled at the romance of it all.

  Chapter 12

  Henry Fitzwilliam would never sully his hands by investigating anyone’s activities. Especially Darcy’s, a man who never used his time and money like other gentlemen did. His cousin would not gamble and refused to slake his physical needs at any of the houses filled with lovely ladies for that purpose. Nor would Darcy bend his rigid control to tell even a small lie, not even when it would be to his own benefit.

  Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the new Mrs. Darcy, was another story altogether. The Fitzwilliams knew nothing of her.

  If there were even a hint of impropriety, Henry would leave no stone unturned to prove his stalwart cousin was a man with needs and desires like the rest of their rank. Not that Henry would trouble himself to put forth any personal effort. No. Henry Fitzwilliam, Viscount Smithton, was a man of stature and rank, not a common investigator who snooped into the private business of others. He was too important to dig through the refuse in Hertfordshire. That was what the general public was for.

  Information, if utilized properly, was highly prized. Rubbing his hands together, Henry craved one little tasty morsel to hold over Darcy.

  He would hire Oscar Huggins for the task. The man was a hound dog who would stay on a trail as long as he could discern the barest fragment of scent. If there was anything unsavory to be sniffed out about the Bennet family, Huggins would find, it then report back to him.

  Soon after retiring from the evening meal, Elizabeth broke the seal to Jane’s letter. With all of the events of the day, she had elected to save the many pages to read at her leisure. The first few words were so calming and sweet that Elizabeth could not help but smile. Her Jane! The loveliest human on earth who never saw bad in anyone.

  Elizabeth snuggled into the massive bed. Her chambers were decorated in reds and gold with carved mahogany furniture several decades old. The fabrics covering the window and the bed were layered perfectly so she would stay warm through the winter months. Everything about the room had been chosen by a fine eye.

  Comparing her current rooms with the one she had shared with Jane at Longbourn, Elizabeth chuckled to herself. Mementos of their early years dotted the walls, the top of the shelves, and dressers. Jane preferred pink while Elizabeth’s favorite color was blue. Thus, nothing matched. Instead, there was a motley assortment of feminine accoutrements more suited to very young ladies.

  Grinning, Elizabeth continued to read. By the end of the first page, she noted a pattern. Jane would write of the shock of some detail of Elizabeth’s marriage, then would immediately justify it by reasoning how in love both Darcy and Elizabeth must have been. When she ended the second page, Elizabeth started reading not so much what Jane wrote, but the intent behind the words. In short, there was much confusion about the reason for the hasty wedding.

  As Elizabeth had expected, rumors about Abigail and the baby were rife in Meryton. Jane explained it away as being Mr. Darcy’s kindness in helping the wife and child of his valet into the smaller carriage. Only Jane!

  Sighing, Elizabeth finished the letter. Refolding the parchment, she set it on the stand next to her bed. Despite the news being as expected, it hurt that those who had known her for her entire life thought ill of her. Their opinions of Darcy had to be truly terrible.

  Pondering the changes in the man since they had wed, it occurred to her that it was not so much that Darcy had changed. No, it was her perception of him that was far different from what it had been before they headed north to Derbyshire.

  The soft knock on the door connecting the mistress’s chambers to the masters sent a jolt of fear into the depths of her chest. Tonight? Her husband wanted to exercise his marital rights, tonight? Oh, Lord! What was she to do?

  At her anxious “enter”, Darcy stepped inside her room. Still dressed as he had been at supper, he walked quickly to the bed.

  “Jem has a fever.”

  Nothing else could have moved her to act so quickly. Within seconds, the bedclothes were thrown back and she was grabbing her robe. Uncaring that he was seeing her in her white cotton nightgown, she thrust her feet into her slippers. Moving rapidly to the nursery, she heard his booted feet right behind her. Before they entered the room, he informed her that the apothecary had been called.

  The inside of the nursery was chaos. Abigail paced the room with a bawling Jem in her arms. Mrs. Reynolds and a maid kept in step with her. All were whispering softly to the babe, begging him to settle. The cradle where he had been resting had tiny blankets askew. A pile of folded fabric had been knocked over until some had dropped to the floor. At the center of the storm was a little red-faced boy, eyes closed, forehead furrowed, with dampness running from his eyes and nose down his cheeks and chin.

  Abigail, too, had a trail of tears dripping from her jaw. Taking the baby from her, Elizabeth took over walking back and forth across the room. Placing her cheek against the babe’s forehead, she was stunned at the level of heat radiating from his tiny body.

  “We need cool water to bathe him,” Elizabeth commanded. Mrs. Reynolds and the maid rushed from the room to see to the task.

  “Elizabeth, I am so afraid,” Abigail had dropped exhaustedly into the chair next to the crib. “If something happens to him, I have no idea what I will do. Poor Anne and the colonel. Could he be missing his mother, do you think?”

  “I do not believe that is the cause,” Darcy replied. “This same fever happened to Georgiana about a week after she was born. A few days later her torso was covered in little bumps until she looked as though someone had painted her in red. I do not recall what the physician told my father and me. Within a few days the spots were gone. She was left with a cough and runny nose that lasted a few days more. While my father and I feared the worse, the physician assured us the condition happened often. However, I cannot be certain this is the same affliction. Whatever the cause, I will see that little Jem has the best of care.”

  Surprisingly, as he spoke, Darcy had approached. Lifting the infant from Elizabeth’s arms, he sat in the only other chair in the room. Placed in the corner so the nurse would be readily available, the shadows and lack of movement seemed to appeal to the baby.

  Jem quieted.

  Settling him in his arms, Darcy softly hummed an old nursery rhyme. As it seemed to please Jem, Elizabeth sang the words.

  Bah, Bah, a black Sheep,

  Have you any wool?

  Yes merry have I,

  Three bags full,

  Two for my master,

  One for my dame,

  But none for the little boy who cries in the lane

  By the time Elizabeth had gone through the verse four times complete, Jem slept deeply.

  Darcy held Jem close to his chest, his palm covering the babe’s ear so he would not be disturbed. “Mrs. Mansfield, pray allow us to care for the lad so you can get some rest. Should the apothecary tell us anything different from what I expect, we will not hesitate to call for your return.”

  “If you are certain, sir?” The tired woman caressed the top of the babe’s head as she walked by. “I sha
ll return immediately, should he need me.”

  “Rest, Abigail.” Elizabeth touched her arm as she strolled with her to the door. Abigail’s steps were hesitant. “Go. We shall do well.”

  “Jem does seem to calm with Mr. Darcy, does he not?”

  Both ladies looked back where the man sat comfortably. Nodding, Abigail left the room.

  Elizabeth lifted the chair by the cradle and carried it to the corner next to her husband and the child. When Darcy shifted to the front of the chair to stand to help her, she briskly shook her head. She was more than capable of seeing to moving one piece of furniture.

  “Thank you, Elizabeth.” Darcy rested his free hand over hers.

  Elizabeth peered at him closely. As the baby’s had been, Darcy’s brow showed signs of stress, and his eyes as they rested on the infant, were tired. Reflecting on all the three of them had been through since little Jem was born, weariness suddenly weighed her down as well.

  Darcy whispered softly, “We will make it through this, little fellow.” Pulling his fingers away from hers, he ran the backs of them over the soft skin on Jem’s cheek and forehead, fluffing the wisps of hair so they stood on end. “We will be a family. A happy family.”

  Warmth started in the pit of her stomach, then grew to fill her heart. His next words touched her soul.

  “My dear boy, we have had to tell a story to others that Mrs. Milford, no, Mrs. Mansfield, is your mother. Although she cares for you deeply, Elizabeth loves you dearly, as do I. When Mrs. Mansfield’s husband miraculously returns from being lost at sea along with my cousin Richard, you will remain here with the three of us, Elizabeth, Richard, and me. Thus, we can watch you grow into the fine man you will no doubt become. Mr. and Mrs. Mansfield will need to leave Pemberley to restart their own lives. I imagine the sadness this separation will bring to you and to her. But, oh, dear boy, I easily picture in my mind so many wonderful times you, Richard, and I will have together.”

  Darcy paused, causing Elizabeth to gaze upon him. His head was back against the wall. His eyes were closed. A single tear trailed a pathway into the shadow of the stubble he had grown since morning.

  “You will love Richard, young man, as I do. Together we will show you all of Pemberley, its secret places perfect for fighting pirates and building forts. We will teach you to ride as fast as the wind. Mostly, Jem, we will give you confidence in who you are, James Alexander.”

  The feelings his words stirred inside of her were like a seed that had budded into a hint of what it could become. His promises watered and tended the soil of her heart. In that moment, the bud became a bloom that was so startlingly beautiful it robbed her of breath. Where she had admitted to herself that this man whom she had married was far kindlier than she had known him to be, she now knew he was the only man for her.

  Caught completely unawares, Elizabeth had to admit she was more attracted than she had previously thought to her husband. Good, Lord! She was growing to love Fitzwilliam Darcy, her Will.

  Chapter 13

  The apothecary examined Jem carefully with both Darcy and Elizabeth hovering over the cradle.

  “Sir, Madam, it is most unfortunate that we do not understand why this happens to little ones like this lad.” The apothecary dried his hands after a thorough wash. “This fever tends to come upon many infants of every background. The sickness lasts around a week to ten days and is often followed by a reddish rash covering his chest and back. Then it disappears, leaving the babe as quickly as it came.”

  “What can we do? From the intensity of his cries, he must be suffering, mustn’t he?” Elizabeth asked the very thing Darcy had been wondering. “Is there not something we can do to ease his way?”

  “As long as he continues to nurse regularly and the need to change his clothing is as normal, the best medicine for him and for you both would be rest. If this goes as I suspect, this will pass.” The apothecary gathered his coat and medicine case. “If, however, the fever increases, he rejects the nurse’s breast, or there is a gap in when he needs to be changed, pray contact me immediately. I will make myself available.”

  Elizabeth’s palm immediately went to Jem’s face to make certain the fever had not worsened since his comment.

  The apothecary chuckled. “You will both do.” Donning his heavy coat, he prepared to leave. “I highly suspect I will return to find the baby doing well and you two exhausted. Get some sleep, the both of you.” Shaking his head, he left Pemberley.

  The room was silent as Darcy and Elizabeth studied the baby, looking for any sign of distress. Little Jem rested peacefully, although he occasionally pulled his bottom lip into his mouth to suckle.

  “Is he hungry, do you think?” Darcy asked, worried that the infant might feel deprived.

  “I do not believe so. Abigail fed him right before she called for us.” With the back of her fingers, Elizabeth stroked his cheek. “Will, you should sleep. I will gladly care for him.”

  “No,” he replied without hesitation. “I do have a plan whereupon all of us might do as the man suggested. First, Mrs. Mansfield should be informed of everything he shared. While you do this, I will see to the arrangements.”

  The next morning found Darcy and Elizabeth deep in slumber in her chambers, a wiggling little boy between them. At the first sign of Jem’s being awake, Elizabeth’s eyes shot open. Surprised at dawn’s light streaming through the window, she lovingly gazed upon the two males sharing her bed. They had each slept through the night.

  Feeling the baby’s face with the back of her hand, the same warmth from the night before reassured her the apothecary had been correct. When Jem started to suck on his lower lip again, Elizabeth put her fingertip on his mouth, amazed when his tongue and lips latched on. Was that the suction Abigail felt when she nursed him? A rush of feeling that she could not identify swamped Elizabeth at the idea of having a baby at her breast. She was in awe. She felt a tug at her heart as her emotions deepened. Love, pure unadulterated love, filled her from head to toe.

  Gazing in wonder at the baby, she peeked at Darcy. Still asleep, his pose relaxed in deep slumber, highlighted how stunningly handsome he was. One day, someday, they would have a baby of their own.

  She sighed, laying her head back on the pillow where she closed her eyes and imagined them with a houseful of children, each one in its turn brought to their bed for an early morning cuddle.

  Jem’s fussing disrupted her fantasy. Dissatisfied with suckling on her finger, he made his displeasure known. Immediately, Darcy’s eyes popped open.

  What happened next took Elizabeth completely by surprise.

  Rolling up on his elbow, Darcy kissed Jem on the forehead, whispering to the boy to hush. Then he leaned over and kissed her right in the middle of her own forehead.

  “Good morning to you both.” He smiled, despite the baby’s complaints.

  Embarrassed at the affectionate gesture while still in the same bed, Elizabeth threw back the covers, grabbed the robe she had carelessly dropped on the floor the night before, then gathered Jem into her arms.

  “He needs Abigail.” Turning away from the vision of her husband’s dark hair and eyes against the white of the linens, his chest exposed...his chest exposed? Where was his nightshirt? Surely, he had put one on before he climbed into her bed, had he not? Horrified and mortified at where her mind had traveled, she hurriedly escaped her chambers.

  Glancing at a large gilt mirror in the hallway, Elizabeth discovered her face was as red as the curtains in her room. Good heavens! She needed to gain control of herself.

  Abigail was already in the nursery waiting for them. Within seconds of reaching for the babe, she had her gown loosened and had Jem to her breast. Abigail’s intense relief as Jem suckled was reflected in her contented expression. Elizabeth smiled at the confirmation that the bereaved woman had more than a physical attachment to the child.

  Elizabeth sat and observed Abigail in silence. A nurse hovered nearby with a stack of folded cloths, a bowl of warm water to b
athe the lad, and a tiny cotton gown. All was as it should be.

  After a few more minutes passed, it dawned on Elizabeth that she was not needed any more. Delaying going back to her chambers was foolishness on her part. Would Darcy still be in her bed when she returned? Or, would he have removed himself to his own rooms to ready himself for the day?

  Deciding she would not know until she left the nursery, she stood to leave.

  “Do call for me should you have a need, Abigail.”

  Jem grabbed the index finger of Abigail’s free hand, squeezing it to himself as if the digit now belonged entirely to him. The serenity of the scene moved Elizabeth until the longing she felt for a child of her own almost overwhelmed her.

  Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes to distance herself. All in time, Elizabeth suspected. All in time.

  Darcy had no words to describe his reaction to waking to Jem’s grumbling and Elizabeth’s smile as she looked upon the boy. Deep in his heart he recognized that his former doubts about taking Elizabeth Bennet as his wife had disappeared. Nothing he had deemed important in the past—position, connections, wealth—mattered one iota when it came to becoming a family. From that second on, he would do everything within his power to make her want him as much as he desired her. Deciding his course, he resolved to start immediately.

  His first task was to see Mrs. Reynolds. He wanted fresh cut flowers from the greenhouse placed in Elizabeth’s chambers. Hot chocolate and every sweet prepared by cook would be delivered to wherever she was in the house. Another tray would be sent to Mrs. Mansfield in the nursery. He would see to the needs of the family before delving into estate business. His priorities were clear.

  Which called to mind the situation with Georgiana.