On the occasion of Mary’s nuptials two years ago, the Darcys had resided in the local inn; a modest establishment that served well if humbly. One other time they had stayed at Longbourn. That was one of the longest weeks in Darcy’s life and he stubbornly, and not too kindly, refused to do so ever again! Space for their family was not an issue with only Kitty still at home, but seven days with Mrs. Bennet in close proximity was intolerable. An additional distress was being cramped into a bed not designed for two grown people in a bedchamber surrounded by thin walls that made the necessary joy of loving his wife impossible.
Thankfully, Netherfield was not rented to another party this March of 1820, so they were again able to dwell in comfort. This was a convenience for the Darcys, but also for the other visitors who would be staying there for the wedding. Once again this building belonging to strangers would play host to a gathering of folks intimately involved with the Bennets.
There was never a question of Darcy and Elizabeth occupying the bedchamber that Darcy had inhabited since his first sojourn at Netherfield. The memories surrounding this suite of rooms were special for a host of reasons, but also because of the view of rolling green pastures and a small lake. A nearby chamber served as a nursery, the Darcys insisting on their children staying close. Mrs. Hanford and her daughter, Lisa, who was now employed as an assistant nanny, slept in a bed located behind a privacy screen. This was essential due to the fact that Mr. Darcy nightly crept into the room his boys occupied to check on them.
The need to ensure their contented rest and security was an urge he could not deny, thus it was no surprise when, much later that night, he ignored the post-lovemaking languor that screamed for his body to succumb to satiated sleep. Instead, he kissed his dreaming wife, untangled his limbs from hers, and slipped quietly from their bed.
Soft snores reached Darcy’s ears as he padded lightly to the bed where Alexander lay curled around Dog. Four other stuffed animals lay near his body. Darcy moved the gibbon gifted by “Uncle Goj” during Alexander’s second Christmas so he could sit beside the toddler. Alexander slept as Darcy did: with lips parted as dreams wove through a submerged consciousness. He knew from experience that he could grant dozens of kisses and caresses without Alexander flinching. In fact, he slept so deeply and lengthily that already, at not quite two-and-a-half, Alexander was eschewing the need for a long daily nap.
As the babyish profile and body matured, he weekly grew to mirror his father. There was a great deal of infantile fat here and there, but he seemed to grow taller by the hour. There was a masculine cast to the youngster that disallowed any doubt as to his sex and promised a future figure as powerful as the man who sired him. The squared jawline had a tendency to clench when considering a puzzling toy or dilemma; the thick eyebrows straight on a mildly ridged brow with the left arching in humor or contemplation. His nose was long and prominent to Darcy’s dismay but Lizzy’s delight, his forehead wide and high, and he had a full lower lip accenting a firm mouth. It truly was only the coiled curls that prevented him being a duplicate of his father.
Darcy bent and kissed the ruddy cheek, whispered words of devotion, and tousled the magnetic springy tresses before rising with a contented smile. He turned to the cradle sheltering Michael.
The infant’s plump fists curled beside his head, chest rising steadily with each breath, and skin almost translucent in the dim moonlight. Both of the boys had inherited Darcy’s fair complexion, Alexander even beginning to display a faint scattering of freckles over his nose and shoulders as his father did. Michael, however, aside from the blue eyes that seem to dominate the Darcy clan, resembled neither of them overly. His once delicate, premature body was now stout and strong. His facial features grew daily bolder with a wide nose, almond-shaped eyes framed by thick, arching brows, high cheekbones, and plump lips outlining a generous mouth. His brown hair, a trait both parents possessed, was dark, sparse, and waved gently.
You do have your mother’s temperament, the proud father thought, smiling as he leaned to bestow a kiss to the baby’s prominent forehead.
He brushed one finger over Michael’s breastbone, cautious and light so as not to disturb. His heart swelled as his eyes swept over the precious features of his newest child. He was pierced with fresh waves of gratitude for the bonded relationship and love he possessed for Michael. The early months following Michael’s birth were painful to recall. The period when all his dreams of family had seemingly disintegrated beyond salvage was still too real to be forgotten.
The emotions of gratitude and love were followed by a rush of fierce protectiveness. For a second, his eyes were blinded by powerful sensations, his heart skipping a beat and respirations hitching. The years of being a husband and father had changed him profoundly. He felt complete and stronger, yet also vulnerable as never before. Elizabeth and his children were everything to him, his life utterly revolving around them, and living without them was not an option.
He shook his head, relegating the disturbing emotions to a hidden chamber within his soul. He murmured a soft I love you and turned sharp eyes to scan the room one last time. He looked for he knew not what, but only when assured that all was well could he return to his wife and the happiness of his dreams. Lizzy sleepily opened her arms, Darcy nestling and kissing the curve of her neck before they settled into the mattress for a satisfied sleep devoid of unpleasant memories or unfounded fears.
CHAPTER ONE
An Excursion Abroad
In the weeks following Colonel Fitzwilliam’s marriage to Lady Simone Fotherby, the reality of Elizabeth Darcy’s second pregnancy was affirmed. The spring to fall months of 1819 unfolded in peace, exciting travel, and the anticipation of new life with no problems of magnitude occurring and no warning of the winter troubles to come.
One may presuppose that Darcy’s giddiness over watching their second child grow within his wife’s womb would be less ridiculous having experienced it once already.
They would be wrong.
The unparalleled ecstasy of fatherhood as he daily interacted with Alexander, who he loved with an emotion formidable in its power, augmented his delight in anticipating the appearance of their second-born.
Alexander was young but seemed to grasp in his immature intellect that a special event was taking place. He joined his father in patting and talking to his mother’s expanding belly, reverently touched the amassing pile of tiny garments, and gradually assimilated that all of this strange activity meant a baby was soon to join their family.
Lizzy’s symptoms of pregnancy never reached beyond the standard vague discomforts of the first trimester and were less severe than with Alexander’s gestation, the comparison to how perfect she felt while carrying Michael notable.
Lizzy’s vitality meant there was nothing to prevent Darcy from proceeding with his secret plans to travel abroad with his family. Lizzy gleaned a few hints and suspected he was plotting something extravagant for her birthday in May—after all, he had a reputation of overindulgence—but was flabbergasted when he dramatically unveiled the entire itinerary over a romantic dinner one night in March.
From that moment on, Lizzy and Georgiana were dizzy with excitement over the trip. Darcy’s arrangements included shopping expeditions and modiste appointments for the trunks of new attire they would need. Neither woman argued over it, instead leaping into action with Lady Matlock alongside, since she and Lord Matlock were joining the journey.
Despite not being able to embark upon a gentleman’s Grand Tour of Europe due to his father’s precipitous death, Darcy had traveled throughout the countries across the English Sea numerous times so knew of the fundamental requirements and the various hazards. Organizing was second nature for him, and with the proper assistance and references from friends, he enjoyed the process, leaving nothing to chance. Lord and Lady Matlock seemed to have acquaintances in nearly every city in Europe who were agreeable to accommodating the travelers, and when that choice failed the finest hotels were reserved. Elizabeth was du
mbstruck at the amount of pre-planning and assembling of equipment necessary for an expedition abroad. Darcy refused to divulge the cost, but she knew enough to conclude it must be staggering.
The company consisted of Darcy and Lizzy, George, Georgiana, Alexander, and Lord and Lady Matlock. Mrs. Hanford, Samuel and Marguerite, Mrs. Annesley, and Lord and Lady Matlock’s personal servants accompanied as entourage. Darcy and Lord Matlock insisted on shipping their private carriages with them rather than trusting the ofttimes poorly manufactured rental coaches.
They departed England in April. Having their resident physician as part of the traveling troupe with his assurance that all was well with the expectant mother eased Darcy’s lingering worry. The anxious father and husband did fret somewhat, as was natural, yet aside from an ever-increasing abdominal girth, Lizzy was vigorous throughout the whole escapade.
The weather held favorably for the Channel crossing from Dover to Calais. That was a major boon for the non-seafaring Darcy men in one respect as the calm waters did not jostle the ship, but not so fortunate in that the lack of wind extended the time of the crossing. George and Darcy kept to their bunks in various degrees of misery for the entire ten-hour voyage, but Alexander did not suffer as acutely as his father or uncle. Lizzy held him in her arms and stood at the railing. She loved the rolling waves and relished the spray and smell of seawater for every moment of the journey.
The port of Calais was another matter entirely. It was chaotic, dirty, fetid, and plain frightening in how ramshackle the docks, at least to her untrained eye. Darcy assured her it was perfectly stout and safe, but considering his frantic need to disembark and place his feet on solid ground, she was not trusting of his guarantee! There were no mishaps and the hours necessary to unload their equipage gave them time to recuperate within the warmth of a hospitable inn near the docks. Lizzy discovered her fascination and agreeableness returning as she observed the diverse humanity and unfamiliar activities from behind a glass window.
“What are they doing there? What is that contraption? Who are those men, do you think?” And on it went, the others patiently answering her inexhaustible queries while Lizzy jotted notes into the blank journal Darcy had gifted her for the journey. Georgiana’s curiosity was as intense, but she maintained a semi-serene demeanor in sharp contrast to Lizzy’s blatant enthrallment.
It took nearly four hours to unload, examine everything for damage, take care of the proper legalities, and hire the required help. Brokers lined the harbor with shingles hung above dingy doorways to offices squeezed between pubs. Recommendations gave the men a starting place rather than trusting to luck, and the third businessman approached possessed what the foreign travelers would need: an experienced coachman and former soldiers with impeccable records who knew the roads, and were brave and skilled with firearms.
The women had been prepared for the demand to hire trained escorts prior to leaving England, including the fact that each gentleman would carry loaded weapons with additional pistols secreted inside the carriages.
“Decades of war and terror and then Napoleon’s defeat have left far too many people homeless and starving—thousands of ex-soldiers without employment and no skill other than how to kill. Some turn that to lucrative business, such as those we will hire to be our guards. Others turn to thievery and highway robbery.” Lizzy shivered at Darcy’s words, remembering their lethal encounter with bandits. “We will be cautious,” he finished firmly, embracing her tightly.
Traveling in larger groups also tipped the odds in their favor, making it less likely that an attack would occur. As luck had it, two other families were on their ship and thrilled to join them for the journey to Paris, and two other companies were already ashore waiting for the next ship to dock in hopes of adding members to their caravan before departing. It was fortuitous for all involved.
Finally they regrouped, leaving Calais for a leisurely meander toward Paris. The careful plotting by the men succeeded, the days of travel passing pleasantly with halts for rest or interesting sights to explore.
Then Paris! Georgiana’s feigned serenity disappeared as the vast city drew near, and upon crossing the first cobbled bridge spanning the Seine her giddiness equaled Lizzy’s.
“Are we there, Brother? This is Paris?”
“The outskirts. Paris proper is yet a few miles and then we must cross a quarter of the city to reach Marais.”
“How long shall it take? Will we pass the Bastille? Or the Luxembourg Palace? Or Notre Dame? Or…”
“I shall stop you there, Sister! I have no idea whether we shall pass any of those places on our way to Hôtel d’Arlatan.”
Both Lizzy and Georgiana stared at him in shock, Lizzy finding her tongue first. “Are you admitting to not knowing the precise route and layout of Paris?”
“Remember that I was last here several years ago when I traveled with Mr. Bingley. I am certain much has changed with Napoleon’s restructuring plans and now Louis XVIII continuing the project, not that I tried memorizing routes then. I can tell you that the Place de la Bastille lays within the Marais arrondissement, but where it is in relation to Hôtel d’Arlatan I do not know. In fact, I trust Uncle Malcolm on this aspect of the journey as he knows the owners.”
“So you are not fully versed on every detail of the townhouse we are to stay in, not even where is it?”
Darcy smiled at his wife’s tease. “I know it is on the Rue Andre Dolet near the Parc du Rolens Croix, that the view is reportedly incredible, and the hôtel beautiful. Beyond that I am at the mercy of guides, thus why I shall not attempt to play navigator. That is why we hired Parisian coachmen in Calais.”
“Ah, I did wonder about that,” Lizzy nodded. “Quite wise. Well, I do pray they are recent residents if the streets are under construction.”
“Paris, and actually all of France, has suffered decades of unrest. The evidence is visible still.”
He was correct in the latter statement. Buildings in partial states of repair were common, as were piles of rubble and destroyed gardens. They kept to major thoroughfares so views of poorer neighborhoods were rare, but glimpses revealed areas of filth and decay not yet touched upon. But clearly the coachman leading the way knew his job, diverting frequently from blocked avenues or unsightly obstacles, weaving in a haphazard fashion along roads laid without a pattern remotely organized.
Most of the scenery was pristine and beautiful so the lengthy ride was enjoyed immensely. Darcy pointed to certain architectural oddities or vegetation not indigenous to England, but he was ignorant to a large degree. Paris was much like London in the ancientness to the city, meaning there was little cohesiveness to the styles. Modern Greek neoclassicism stood alongside medieval Gothic, the disparity bizarre but expected. Elaborate gardens were frequent, as were gated lawns and miniature woods. The deeper into the city they went, the grander the passing surroundings until finally they crested a residential avenue lined with palatial private homes and halted before the iron gate of number eighteen, the plush mansion owned by the Marquis Dissandes de la Villatte.
The elderly marquis, an acquaintance of Colonel Fitzwilliam from the war, greeted them with warmth and hospitality. As Darcy had promised, the townhouse was beautiful, with ornate, spacious guest quarters overlooking the courtyard gardens. Every top floor window afforded stunning views of the city streets, a nearby park, and glimpses of the Seine.
Their host and hostess were courteous in every way. The food was delicious, the servants exceptional, and the accommodations superb. Their three weeks in Paris passed in a blur of fêtes, operas, museums, and sightseeing. It was not enough time to adequately view all that Paris had to offer, but eventually they bid adieu to the Marquis and Marquise Dissandes de la Villatte to embark on the second leg of their journey.
“I completely filled my journal with memories of France.” Lizzy patted the thick, leather-bound book in her lap, her eyes riveted on the disappearing Paris landscape.
“No worries,” Darcy squeezed her hand,
“I have another in my trunk. Two, actually, just in case.”
“You think of everything, do you, Mr. Darcy?”
“I do try.” He grinned smugly, leaning to kiss her nose.
“Well, I am sure I will recall something I missed to add in betwixt the future delights to jot down, so thank you for your foresight and thoughtfulness.” She sighed, gazing again out the window. “I do wish we did not have to leave. Who knows when we shall be able to return, what with babies being born and all,” she concluded, rubbing her slightly rounded midsection.
“I am sure William will manage to bring you again, Lizzy, along with your children.” Georgiana tugged on Alexander’s jacket tail, the seventeen-month-old perched on his Aunt Giana’s lap with his face pressed against the window.
“Easy for you to be philosophic! You will return later this year to dwell for months, after trekking through exotic Italian locales. You must visit all the places we missed in Paris with details written and sketches drawn. I insist you do so to allay my raging jealousy.”
“Have no fear, dear sister.” Georgiana laughed. “William has purchased extra journals for me as well, and I have my paints stowed carefully for colored visual renderings. It will be as if you were there!”
“Now that peace reigns in Europe, travel is easily accomplished. I do promise to bring us back, Elizabeth. And I am sorry the trip must be truncated, but we must be home before our baby is born.”
Lizzy leaned against his side, smiling into his serious face. “Silly man! You know I jest. Well, for the most part. Indeed I wish we could tarry longer, but what would that truly accomplish? There is not enough time to see the entire world so there would forever be more. I am blessed to see what I have as it is more than I ever imagined. I thank you for that, love.”
“You are most welcome. It is my pleasure.”
“And now we are on to another adventure! What do you think of that, Alexander?”
The Trouble with Mr. Darcy Page 2