The Trials of the Honorable F. Darcy

by Sara Angelini

  “Ahhh... I think she’s hungry,” he said as he uncurled the tiny fingers now clenching his chest hair, pursed little lips straining toward his nipple. “I’m sorry, little one, but that tap is dry,” he laughed.

  Elizabeth unbuttoned her nightshirt and curled Emma into her arms; Emma found her nipple and fed hungrily.

  Darcy lay back in bed. The last six weeks had been pure, unadulterated bliss. He had not thought it possible to be happier than he had been on his wedding day; in fact, the three years since that day had relaxed into comfortable happiness, relieving him from that lurching giddiness he had felt then with Elizabeth.

  But that was before Emma. He had not thought it possible to cram any more love into his heart but somehow he had. The first moment he held her six weeks ago, red and squalling, angry at being born, the world had stopped. Nothing had existed but him and this hopelessly fragile, helpless, writhing ball of curly hair and strong lungs. How he had managed not to dissolve into joyful, hysterical tears he will never know.

  They didn’t normally bring her to bed with them but sometimes he couldn’t help himself. If she fussed, he wanted to hold her. Even if she didn’t fuss, he wanted to hold her. A few hours ago he had heard her stir in her crib and he instantly woke and brought her to bed.

  Elizabeth had returned to work two weeks ago but Darcy was perfectly content to be a stay-at-home dad. He had joined deBourgh and Associates after their honeymoon on a part-time basis, determined to avoid the grind of billable hours and long weekends at work. Catherine had not exactly been overjoyed but she was genuinely fond of Darcy and, after they had made their peace, she was glad simply to have him on board.

  Now he was making himself even less available. He agreed to work from home on cases that were not pressing, refused to take any trials and offered to fill in occasionally for judges who were out sick. Even with these restrictions, Catherine kept him on. He supposed he had much to be grateful for; he was beginning to have a real affection for the old battle axe.

  So he stayed home with Emma and worked when he felt like it; he fully realized now the privilege of his wealth. They had a housekeeper to cook and clean and, if she wanted to, Elizabeth could stay home. But she preferred to work. Darcy was generally opposed to daycare if it wasn’t absolutely necessary; so, he became a stay-at-home dad. And he loved it.

  The revolting contents of her diaper how could something so foul come from the purest substance on earth? he wondered, did not deter him. He was sure he could win a contest on changing her onesie in record time. His favorite sound was the cooing little voice that she seemed to save just for when he held her.

  He smiled as he looked up at the ceiling. There was no doubt he was going to be a very indulgent father. He could imagine playing Barbie’s with her, teaching her to ride a bicycle and how to swim. He was sure she would want dance lessons, so he would be taking her to class and carrying her little gym bag for her. Maybe she would want to play soccer too, so he’d have to work that into her schedule. Then there were the piano lessons, of course. How he would work horseback riding in as well, he wasn’t sure. He spent the next ten minutes planning out her entire extracurricular career through middle school.

  He looked over at Elizabeth, who was looking down at Emma. They looked like some modern day Madonna and child; her loose hair fell in ringlets around her shoulders, her nightshirt open to reveal her now very ample bosom, the child suckling quietly in her arms. Just then, Elizabeth raised her eyes to him. They held their gaze for a moment over the head of their baby, communicating a private moment of pure and unadorned love.

  After a few moments, she put Emma in the crib and returned to Darcy in the bed. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He had thought her the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen while she was pregnant. The Neanderthal man in him grunted that she was having his baby, but the gentleman in him found her rosy cheeks and bright eyes irresistible. Their lovemaking during pregnancy had been as vigorous, and sometimes more frequent, than before.

  And now, with her curves still full and round, she was soft and warm and maternal and sexy. He didn’t care that she felt fat and bloated; in his eyes, she had never been lovelier.

  “Do you think we could try to make love?” he asked. It had been, after all, more than six weeks since he’d made love with her.

  “I don’t know...” she said hesitantly.

  “Will it hurt?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so, if you’re not a maniac, but... I feel so ugly,” she answered.

  He laughed. “Ugly? What are you talking about? Don’t you know that I’ve never found you sexier than you are right now?” he answered gently.

  “Really?” she asked almost shyly. He nodded. To prove his point, he cupped one of her full breasts with his hand and stroked it delicately.

  “Really,” he murmured intently.

  “Well then...” she smiled, putting her arms around his neck.

  He was careful with her, conscious of her sensitive body and made slow, deliciously gentle love with her. He whispered the beauty of her full breasts and hips in her ear, kissed her softly on her arms and back, kissed her rear and her inner thighs, tasted the milk from her breast when he suckled it lightly. He entered her slowly and stroked her unhurriedly until she found her pleasure, then carefully took his own while kissing her tenderly. They cradled each other in their arms and whispered quiet assertions of love to each other. He let his fingers stroke her arm absently lying in contented silence beside her.

  “Not even that time in the billiards room at Pemberley?” she asked drowsily. “I wasn’t sexier to you even then?”

  “Well, that’s not really a fair question,” he replied sleepily. “You were dancing. Let’s say that if you were to dance for me now in leather pants, and then let me fuck you on a pool table, then that would rank at number one on my list of sexiest Lizzy moments ever,” he grinned lazily. She laughed into his chest and tightened her arms around him.

  “I’ll see what I can work out,” she promised.

  ***

  “Hello?” Darcy answered the phone a little breathlessly. He had just been dancing with Emma in his arms, making her laugh. He wasn’t really sure who was having more fun.

  “Will, we need you at the courthouse. Two judges are out and it’s crazy here. Can you come down?” Elizabeth said over the phone.

  “I can’t, who would take Emma?” he said, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder and shifting Emma to his other shoulder.

  “What about Mrs. Hill?” she asked, referring to their housekeeper.

  “She’s off visiting her mother.”

  “Georgie?”

  “In rehearsals.”

  “Caroline?”

  “Elizabeth!” he said sternly.

  She sighed. He was right; Caroline would likely put the diaper on Emma’s head.

  “Bring her with you. We’ll figure something out. I’m sure Catherine would like to see her,” she said finally.

  “Alright, I’ll get there as soon as I can,” he grumbled. It wasn’t that he minded going in to work; it was that they were interrupting his playtime with Emma. He smiled ruefully to himself. He had not expected himself to enjoy being a father quite so much.

  Twenty minutes later Darcy pulled into the courthouse parking lot, glancing briefly in the rearview mirror to see whether Emma was awake. He eased her from the car seat and into the BabyBjorn strapped to his chest. He preferred to carry her close to him rather than in the car seat; he loved feeling her against his chest. So he carried her with him and pulled the car seat out so that she would have a place to lie when he couldn’t hold her.

  “Is that my niece?!” came Catherine’s voice when he entered the office. She had taken to calling herself “Aunt Cat” much to Darcy’s amusement. He supposed she had given up on Anne ever getting married and had decided to make herself Darcy’s surrogate parent. He didn’t really mind; she had certainly softened up a bit since Emma came along.

  D
arcy smiled while Catherine cooed over the baby, taking her from him and walking her around the office. Darcy entered his own office and found his robe.

  “Catherine, do you want to keep her or should I take her down with me?” he asked as he put on the robe. Catherine made a few faces at Emma and then looked over at Darcy.

  “I can’t keep her, I’m due for trial across town in 20 minutes,” she answered. Darcy nodded. He would take her down with him; he knew the secretaries would swoon over her and he felt confident that she would come to no harm with both he and Elizabeth within shouting distance.

  He took her again into the BabyBjorn and picked up the car seat then went downstairs to the judges’ chambers. His former secretary grinned as soon as she saw him and instantly jumped up to see the baby.

  “Oooohhh, she’s so beautiful!!!” she exclaimed. Darcy smiled proudly. Yes, she is, he thought. She takes after her mother. Soon he was surrounded by a gaggle of secretaries, court reporters and attorneys.

  “Does anyone know where my wife is?” he grinned.

  “She’s in trial before Judge Clayton,” someone answered. He nodded. He decided to keep Emma with him. The majority of his duties today would be taking hearings off calendar or approving settlements; nothing would require his full attention. Besides, he couldn’t stand to be away from Emma when she was this adorable.

  He entered the courtroom and placed Emma on the desk before him, settling her comfortably into her car seat. He accepted with great enjoyment the compliments given to him on the beauty of his baby and how well-behaved she was for being so young. He shared “new father” stories with another attorney, comparing diaper techniques and stroller reviews.

  When she began to fuss, he took a recess and poked his head into Judge Claytons’ courtroom.

  “Judge Clayton, please excuse me. Mrs. Darcy, you’re needed for a few minutes,” he said quietly. Judge Clayton looked at him curiously, then Darcy showed her the car seat and she smiled.

  “I believe we can take a brief recess,” Judge Clayton said.

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Elizabeth said and followed Darcy to his chambers, where she took Emma into her arms and unbuttoned her blouse to feed her. Darcy watched with amused affection as Elizabeth sat in the leather executive chair behind the desk, one breast hanging out with Emma attached to it.

  “You know, if you’d have done this three year ago, we’d have been fired,” he mused.

  “Done what?” she asked.

  “Sat in my chair with your boob hanging out.”

  She laughed.

  “Well, now that we’re married it’s not quite so scandalous,” she replied, smiling. He bent and kissed her warmly on the top of her head.

  As was their custom, when Emma finished feeding Elizabeth gave her to Darcy, who patted her back to burp her. He sat in the chair with a towel draped over his shoulder, rubbing Emma’s back. She gave a satisfied burp; he laughed and wiped her mouth.

  “I’ve been replaced in your affection by a girl who drools and pees her pants,” Elizabeth teased as she watched them.

  He raised his eyes to her. “I’m afraid so,” he replied, smiling. “But she is especially charming in her own way.”

  Elizabeth put her hand on the back of his neck and caressed it gently.

  “Can it possibly get any better than this?” she asked quietly. He tipped his head up to her.

  “Only if you kiss me,” he invited. She obliged, lowering her head to meet his lips. They shared a warm, loving kiss. His love for her had never waned; time had taken the edge off of it, but it was still solid as the earth he stood on. He couldn’t imagine ever being without her or Emma.

  Just then, Emma let out another little burp. Darcy sighed as spit-up pooled on his robe. Elizabeth laughed.

  “You don’t know what I suffer,” he said, assuming a martyred expression.

  “Your misfortunes have been great indeed. Your life is full of such woe and drama, it deserves a memoir,” she teased.

  “What would you call it?” he asked, smiling.

  She laughed. “What else? The Trials of the Honorable F. Darcy.”

  The End

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40 - Epilogue