by J Dawn King
After a decade, Henry Fitzwilliam no longer regretted the loss of his title. Living as the son-in-law of a duke meant his consequence was above that of his father. His constant reminder served to irritate Lord Matlock.
It would be safe to say that much irritated the earl. In an attempt to reestablish himself to his prior position, he returned to London six years after the trial to find he had few friends left. Depressed and out of sorts, he spent too much time at the gambling tables and the houses his nephew Darcy always avoided. Within a year, he had developed small reddish-brown sores on his upper lip. His hair began to fall out and he was struck with fevers and chills.
By the time of the Darcy’s tenth wedding anniversary, Hugh Fitzwilliam was dead. Thus, at age thirty-eight, Fitzwilliam Darcy became Earl of Matlock. His Elizabeth was his countess. Due to the fact that the original letters patent did not include the phrase ‘by a man who bore the name and arms of Fitzwilliam’, Darcy was not required to change his surname.
“Darling,” Elizabeth whispered in his ear. “What shall you do with Matlock?”
Darcy grinned as he pulled her closer. “I do believe four Darcy sons are plenty to oversee the needs of the earldom. Now, we need to work on establishing enough Darcy boys to take care of Pemberley when we are old and grey.”
“More babies?” Elizabeth teased.
Except, Darcy was not teasing. Nine months to the day, they had another baby for Mr. Darcy.
Winter, 1840 –
“My Lord.” Elizabeth grinned, as she curtsied.
“Dearest,” Darcy rolled his eyes as she expected him to do, increasing her mirth. “Does it not ever get old?”
She laughed as she moved from the doorway of his study to where he was seated at his desk. “I cannot say that it has, Will. If hearing me addressing you by your title bothered you less, I would have lost interest in teasing you years ago. I do conclude, therefore, that the fault is entirely yours, my husband.”
In the two decades he had held the title of Earl of Matlock, Darcy had never been comfortable with his title or the added condescension from those seeking his favor. The teasing of his wife, on the other hand, he enjoyed thoroughly.
The years since the death of Hugh Fitzwilliam had been kind to the Darcys. Their six sons were all established, some were wed. The Darcys spent the majority of their time at Pemberley. Their eldest son and his bride cared for Matlock.
On this day, the child who held their attention was Jem. The babe had grown to be a taller, more serious version of his father. As Abigail had predicted soon after his birth, he was a happy man with a deep love for his family.
Two months earlier, Richard and Abigail Fitzwilliam had brought their whole family to Pemberley, including Jem and his wife, Sara. The night before, after a lengthy labor, Sara delivered the first grandchild born into their generation. A Fitzwilliam son.
Elizabeth held the babe in her arms. Without a word, Darcy pushed his chair back from the desk. His dear wife placed the infant carefully in his arms. Kissing the little one on the forehead, she addressed her husband. “My darling, Will,” Elizabeth rested her hand on his shoulder, patting gently. “Do you remember?”
“I do.”
At his wife’s pleased look, Darcy unwrapped the babe from the fabric swaddling him. Studying the infant from head to toe, he noted a remarkable similarity to the babe’s father. A wisp of dark hair, dark murky eyes, a hint of a cleft chin, and long skinny toes proved beyond question that his sire was James Alexander Fitzwilliam.
Haphazardly folding the cloths back over the babe, Darcy studied the sleeping face.
The feeling of holding a new life close to his heart enveloped Darcy. The marvel, the vulnerability, the panic of having a precious child dependent upon your decisions was overwhelming. The sweet joy of cradling the wonder of birth in his hands humbled him.
“Have they yet chosen a name?” Darcy whispered so as not to disturb the lad.
This time, when Elizabeth bent down, she kissed her husband’s temple. “Yes, my love.” She grinned. “I would like to introduce you to Sebastian James Darcy Fitzwilliam.”
The unexpected choice hit Darcy right in the heart.
Cupping the babe’s head in his hand, Darcy fought to hold back the tears. Resting his head against the back of his chair, he closed his eyes and asked, “Jem did this?”
“Both he and Sara agreed the name best suited their son.” Elizabeth’s hand squeezed where it had continued to rest on his shoulder. “Our little Jem has never forgotten his beginning.”
“And, neither will I.” Darcy whispered.
The End
About the Author
Joy Dawn King fell in love with Jane Austen's writings in 2012 and discovered the world of fan fiction shortly after. Intrigued with the many possibilities, she began developing her own story for Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet.
In 2017, she experimented with shorter Pride & Prejudice variations using the pen name, Christie Capps.
Joy, and her husband of almost 40 years, live next door to their only child, Jennifer, her husband, and twin grandchildren in Ecuador where writing, Jane Austen, and Pride & Prejudice are often the subject of discussion.
The author is currently working on another tale of adventure and romance for Mr. Darcy and his Elizabeth.
Already Available From Christie Capps:
Mr. Darcy’s Bad Day
For Pemberley
The Perfect Gift
Forever Love
Boxed Set: Something Old, New, Later, True
Elizabeth
Lost and Found
Henry
His Frozen Heart
Boxed Set: Something Regency, Romantic, Rollicking, Reflective
One Bride & Two Grooms
ALREADY AVAILABLE FROM J Dawn King:
Friends and Enemies
Mr. Darcy’s Mail-Order Bride
Love Letters from Mr. Darcy
The Abominable Mr. Darcy
Yes, Mr. Darcy
Compromised!
One Love, Two Hearts, Three Stories
A Father’s Sins
Letter of the Law
A Baby for Mr. Darcy
Thank you very much for investing your time with this story. A gift for any author is to receive an honest review from readers. I hope you will use this opportunity to let others know your opinion of this tale. Happy reading!