absolutely stunning you are. God, Elizabeth! You take my breath away!” He encircled her neck, bending for a teasing and earnest kiss. “Delicious. Come, Mrs. Darcy, the clock is ticking, knowing the appetite of our son.”
Lizzy was greeted with enthusiasm by George and Georgiana. Darcy, bless his amazing heart, had placed a goose down-filled cushion on the chair to his right, guiding his wife and lovingly assisting her to sit, a chore that was yet painfully accomplished. A large part of her heart and soul remained upstairs, but the warm welcome and dazzling brilliance of the appointed dining room calmed her. With the serving of the first course, a delicious roasted red pepper soup, Lizzy wholly relaxed into the joy of fine dining with dear loved ones.
“I received a letter from Raja today,” George began as the entree was served, all looking to him with rapt attention.
“Did he finally propose?” Georgiana burst out, flushing instantly at her rude interruption and glancing at her brother in expectation of his rebuke. None was forthcoming, however, as he was as interested in the answer as she was.
George continued with a chuckle, “Apparently so. Down on one knee with a bouquet of flowers to which was tied an engagement ring obtained from Spain, a family heirloom, he writes. Reciting poetry, no doubt, knowing Raul, although he does not say such. Anyway, Miss de Bourgh had to think on it for a few days…”
“She did not!” It was Georgiana again, but this time they all laughed as George shook his head.
“No, dear niece, she did not. He does not specify, but I can read between the lines. I rather imagine instantly leaping into arms or fainting dead away more the order of events.”
“Anne is more the blushing and nodding sedate type, but there could have been some leaping involved,” Darcy said dryly.
“Speaking from experience, nephew?” George winked at Lizzy.
“No leaping—although there nearly was fainting, from me.” He squeezed his wife's hand. “Does Dr. Penaflor give any other specifics? Dates, perhaps?”
“Lady Catherine's reaction?” Lizzy interjected with an evil twinkle.
“I expect Lady Catherine has passed the recent months figuring how to incorporate royal Spanish elements into the de Bourgh family crest. Raja is ever the diplomat, not to mention a future son-in-law, so I cannot glean anything untoward. He has well established himself in the community as a worthy physician, already asked to be on the hospital board. I shall allow myself to take some credit in that as I
“Anyway,” he continued, “Raja says they are tentatively planning a February wedding. He and Anne desired an intimate Christmas ceremony, but Lady Catherine insists on her daughter and heir having an elaborate affair with probably all of England invited. I added the caveat there, but would wager the truth of it.”
“Why does everyone insist on February weddings?” Lizzy moaned. “I do not think it wise to take Alexander anywhere during the winter.”
Darcy brought her knuckles to his lips, speaking softly. “Do not fret. We will attend if possible, bringing Alexander if he seems hale enough, or we will not. In the end our son's health is of the greatest importance. Anne and Mary will understand this.” Lizzy nodded, smiling bravely.
“Well,” Georgiana broke the silence, “I think it is very romantic. So much love in the air. I cannot be happier for both Anne and Mary. Maybe we can even find someone for you, Uncle. Miss Bingley is yet unclaimed.”
George literally spit his wine, Lizzy bursting into loud guffaws, and Darcy attempting to glare at his sister, but unable as he hid a smile into his napkin.
“Oh Lord forgive me, but bachelorhood has never conjured more appeal than at that vision! Shame, Georgie, shame.”
“Do not be so hasty, Uncle. Miss Bingley will be visiting over the holidays so you can reconsider the notion at your leisure.”
“Enough,” Darcy said with a sharp laugh, “joking at another's expense is unattractive and uncharitable, no matter how humorous. Remember this, Georgiana.”
“Yes, brother.”
Lizzy patted her hand. “Speaking of hospitals and superior expertise, what of the hospital in Matlock, George? Other events transpired and I never heard the outcome of your interview.”
George laughed. “Yes indeed, other events transpired.” At dinner on the night Lizzy went into labor, George had casually mentioned that he was offered a position at Matlock Hospital. The burst of hopeful delight that flowed through each of their hearts was powerful. Questions had poured forth, but George became evasive after the declaration, skillfully diverting the topic.
“It was intriguing. The facility is fairly modern for a rural establishment. The board approved of my credentials, naturally, and personally I was a smash.” He grinned then shrugged. “I was guaranteed a position, but have not decided for certain.”
“You know you are welcome to stay at Pemberley as long as you wish, whatever your decision.”
“Thank you, William.”
“Alexander would miss you and I rather appreciate having a physician in residence.” Darcy smiled at his uncle. “Additionally, the community could use a doctor of your talent, but do not let the praise swell your ego any further!”
“That would be impossible, I fear. In all seriousness, I confess I have enjoyed my time home more than I imagined I would. It is a difficult decision.” His grave tone touched all of them. For months now they had all privately wondered what his plans were, hoping and praying that he would stay.
“Oh, Uncle! You must stay through Christmas at the very least!” Georgiana pleaded.
“That I can promise, my dear. I refuse to sail in the winter.” He shuddered. “I am a very poor sailor and the Channel crossing is hideous in the best of weather. No, I fear you are stuck with me until spring!”
Georgiana clapped in glee, Lizzy stating, “That is excellent news! We Darcys are all quite selfish, Uncle, so garner no qualms. We desire your presence for as many months or years as you wish to grace us. And besides, my father would be crushed not to have another chance to triumph at a game of chess.”
The next day Darcy was sitting in his study attending to a short stack of papers that he could not ignore. It involved details on the horse breeding program, a lengthy report necessary to complete per the request of Duke Grafton. Darcy was poring over a comprehensive list of the current stable stock when an epiphany struck him: the perfect endowment—deeding the ownership title of Wolfram to Alexander Darcy. His heart began to race and within seconds he was dashing from the room to find his wife, skidding to a stop midway down the hall when additional enlightenment dawned: Lizzy may not be so overjoyed at the idea.
For a second, just the barest second, the old dominant arrogance flared and he thought,
Luckily he found Lizzy in the nursery actively nursing their days-old baby and wearing the beautifully wistful expression dominant when Alexander was at her breast. At moments like this he could probably sell her on anything! For a spell he lost himself to the identical exalted abstraction, forgetting why he had come in the joy of gazing at his son, but eventually rational memory reasserted itself.
“Dearest, I came here specifically to ask your opinion on a matter that I have been contemplating. It will come as no surprise to you, of course, to hear that my greatest hope is that Alexander, as well as all our children, would inherit my love of horses and riding.”
“I doubt if that will be an issue to worry over.”
Darcy smiled. “Well, I do pray for the desire to be imbedded in his soul as it always was in mine, but I do not wish to be presumptuous. However, with that supposition in mind I have an urge to gift Alexander a horse, but not just any horse. Wolfram is who I am thinking of. He was born on the very night that you came here as my wife, you have bonded with him to a degree, and as the offspring of Parsifal I know he is of the very best lineage and dear to me.” He shrugged. “The latter reasoning is merely sentimental on my part, but there it is.”
Lizzy was smiling softly, but her eyes were slightly disturbed. “I think it a lovely idea, but will not Wolfram be too old for Alexander to ride?”
Darcy laughed at her ignorance. “Oh no! A well cared for, sturdy thoroughbred can live for twenty-five to
