huge grin spreading over his face while his hands trembled. Darcy was not a complete idiot. Rationally, he understood that newborn babies were small, yet having rarely actually seen one, or even an older baby for that matter, it unexpectedly dawned on him how miraculous it all was. His focus had been so wrapped up with Lizzy's health that he had spared rarely a moment's thought to the future reality. Elizabeth, as a woman, would have thought of nothing else, her symptoms mere inconveniences to endure for the greater joy.
He slipped one large finger into one of the booties, nearly filling it, and picked up the wrapped package she had given him. Inside were petits four pastries filled with lemon custard and topped with meringue. He smiled. Darcy did not generally crave sweets. Except for hot cocoa his only true dessert proclivity was anything lemon flavored. Elizabeth, amazing Elizabeth! Proving once again that she was not only continually conscious of their child but additionally of her love for him.
When he reentered the parlor he crossed the room immediately to where Elizabeth stood talking to Jane. She started at the sensation of his hand on the small of her back, turning her head as he bent to kiss her cheek. Their eyes met and all was forgiven.
Mrs. Langton, Pemberley's cook, was the type of leader who without a doubt was the admiral of her kitchen. Nonetheless, she was also a wise manager in that she recognized that her underlings could, upon occasion, actually teach her something. In fact, in order to please the palates of the Darcys, she searched far and wide for any culinary edification, including the hiring of staff from various nationalities. Therefore, in addition to the standard English cuisines, the kitchen created French, German, Spanish, and even Indian masterpieces. It had taken Lizzy quite some effort to grow accustomed to the varying spices and develop the taste for exotic preparations.
The cook at Longbourn, however, was rooted in conventional English dietary fare. Unoriginal, perhaps, but Darcy had been pleasantly surprised to discover that he was a remarkable cook. The food served at Longbourn may not be colorful, but it was superb. Consequently, no matter how irritating the Bennet craziness had often been for him, he never left the table with his stomach wanting. Happily, nothing had changed.
The usual bustle greeted them when they arrived. Mrs. Bennet flitted about, fawning over Darcy's “fine jacket” and Lizzy's “expensive gown” and nearly fainted at the sight of the Darcy carriage with elaborate crest on the door. They were a bit late so repaired immediately to the dining room. Lizzy was famished again, and a quick survey of the laden table showed no foodstuffs currently incompatible with her stomach. She hesitated a fraction of a second, already biting into a juicy slice of turkey before everyone was seated. Darcy, sitting beside her, smiled but cautioned, “Careful, dearest. You know what happens if you eat too hastily.” Luckily, his fears came to naught, Lizzy ingesting without incidence.
“Lizzy,” said Mr. Bennet, “we have news of Charlotte. Sir Lucas received a missive this afternoon and sent word. She too is expecting. Her date of confinement is this fall sometime.”
“How wonderful!” several voices declared at the same time.
“I am so happy for her,” Lizzy finally replied after swallowing. “She deserves some compensation for marrying Mr. Collins.”
“Lizzy! Do not be so uncharitable! Mr. Collins is a perfectly respectable man, despite your assessment to the contrary.”
“Respectable he surely is, Mrs. Bennet,” Darcy smoothly chimed in, covering Lizzy's snort of disgust and forestalling the quip surely to come. “However, I must confess to being profoundly grateful that Elizabeth's opinion was of a negative bent.”
“Oh, of course, Mr. Darcy! Naturally it has all worked out for the best for Lizzy and for Charlotte. How could Charlotte not be content in her situation? Lizzy, you said her home was lovely and they have such a devoted patroness in Lady de Bourgh. How does your aunt fare, Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy's jaw had clenched at the mention of his aunt's name and his tone was cold when he spoke. “I have no recent information, madam. However, familiar with her as I am, I can assert with confidence that she is likely unchanged.”
Lizzy rapidly interjected a new subject. “Papa, William tells me that Mr. Simpson has maintained his billiard title?”
This prompted a lively recap of the tournament, the men dramatic in the reenactment. Even Darcy added his theatrical storytelling embellishments a time or two, although he shied away from his own participation. Rather, he blushed as both Mr. Bennet and Mr. Bingley sang the praise of his expertise. Lizzy beamed at her spouse and squeezed his hand. “I was sure he would perform brilliantly,” she announced with pride.
After dinner they strolled through the gardens and onto the adjacent paths. Initially all together, the couples eventually diverged, wishing to be alone. Lizzy, from the time she was old enough to wander off on her own, had considered a ramble after the evening meal a necessity. She had been very pleased to discover that it was a habit Darcy eagerly embraced. His tendency through adulthood was to walk along the terrace at Pemberley or the gardens at Darcy House prior to retiring for bed. In both cases, it was the desire for fresh air and star gazing that drew them outside. It was another one of those strange little customs that they had in common. During their engagement the nightly excursions had rapidly become vital, often as the first time in the entire day they were able to secure any alone time, or as alone as they could manage with Jane and Charles within earshot. However, both couples had progressively stretched the ordered proximity requirements until they were often, unbeknownst to the Bennets, on complete opposite sides of the house!
Still, Mr. Darcy had rigidly controlled himself and the private interludes never crossed any permanent boundaries, although it had balanced precariously a multitude of times. Now, they were enthusiastically seizing the opportunities to revisit past places and events without the societal strictures of the pre-matrimonial state. They ambled leisurely in silence, Lizzy holding onto her husband's arm with head on his shoulder, steering toward an oak sheltered clearing at the edge of the lake. When they arrived, Darcy enfolded his wife, pressing her back against his chest.
Kissing her earlobe, he whispered, “Do you know how desperately I yearned to hold you like this during our engagement?”
Lizzy laughed. “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I believe I do! Innocent I may have been, but not imbecilic.” She glanced up into his face. “Your eyes reveal your emotions, my love.” She patted his cheek and he kissed her.
He tightened his grip, unconsciously rubbing her belly. They gazed dreamily at the cloudless spring sky, a million stars visible. Darcy had studied astronomy at Cambridge so had an adequate knowledge base of the constellations. Lizzy had always enjoyed stargazing but, other than reading a couple books in her father's library, knew little. Darcy happily shared his education with her and taught her how to adjust the telescope located on an upper floor balcony at Pemberley.
“Which constellations are visible, William?”
“There is
“I think so, although it is far easier with your telescope.” She sighed. “It is a jumble to me, I am afraid. I rather think one could paint all kinds of pictures. For instance,” she pointed as she said, “if you connect that star to that one and then down to those three and back up and over, you form a fork!” They laughed.
“My wife the astronomer. We can dub it Elizabeth's Trident.” He bestowed soft kisses along her neck, returning to her hair and inhaling deeply. “I love you, Elizabeth, more than I have the words to express. Forgive me for my outburst earlier. I cannot seem to avoid worrying about you and the baby.”
She turned in his arms, hugging his waist securely. “All is forgiven. Your job is to worry, I suppose, while I get to enjoy the pleasurable sensations of nausea, raging hunger, and a constantly full bladder!”
She kissed him, but he frowned. “I hate that you must suffer so, Elizabeth. I wish I could ease your burdens.”
“I shall remind you of your wish, husband, when I need someone to massage my aching back and feet, provide the strange foods for the bizarre cravings that reportedly occur, and listen to me whine at how plump I have become.”
“Very well. I accept the employment.”
“Oh! So hasty to concede! Consider the job description cautiously, Mr. Darcy, before you so readily acquiesce. At moments like this, what with moonlight and stars, you tend to get all fuzzy and romantic. You forget to whom you are avowing to placate. I have been known, a time or two, to be difficult.” She beamed up at his grinning
