To Conquer Mr. Darcy

the past is not the present. So long as you are able to tell me what you feel, we can share this burden, but I will not allow you to have the past predict the future.”

He gathered her into his arms. “Darling Elizabeth,” he murmured, his voice evidencing a slight quiver.

She held him tightly, speaking endearments quietly in his ear, until she felt his body releasing its tension. “All will be well, my dearest,” she whispered.

“I shall require a great deal of reassurance of that,” he replied in a muffled voice, turning to kiss her tenderly.

“I will be happy to reassure you whenever you like,” she said lightly, “because I know that your worries are groundless.” She gave him a teasing smile, then added, “I can offer this as proof of my position: as nearly as I can judge, every servant at Pemberley has known of my condition for weeks, and their only thought has been to protect you from the knowledge of it.”

He turned a startled stare on her. “No,” he said disbelievingly.

An amused smile curved her mouth. “Yes. You have a very devoted household.”

He rolled onto his back, covering his face with his hands. “There is no privacy to be had as Master of Pemberley,” he said with bemused regret.

“None, so far as I can see. Fortunately, you do still have a few consolations.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What consolations do you have in mind, my love?”

She smiled slowly and ran her hand down his side slowly. “Tell me what you would like,” she whispered provocatively.

“You,” he said intensely. “You, now and always.” He tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her head towards his, then slowly lowered his mouth to hers until they met in passionate communion.

*   *   *

Elizabeth woke during the night with the feeling that something was amiss. The fire had burned down, but she could tell from his body that Darcy was wakeful as well. He was, in fact, making no effort to sleep, but was propped up on one elbow beside her, his other hand resting lightly on her side.

“William, are you well?” she asked with sleepy concern.

“Quite well,” he said softly. “I am sorry to have disturbed you, my love.”

“What keeps you awake so late?”

“I have been thinking.”

“Now that is a dangerous activity. I hope it is not a serious matter.”

“No.” He moved his hand, caressing her body gently. “I have been thinking about our child.”

She reached up to touch his cheek. His countenance seemed quite peaceful, but she was not without concern. “And have you reached any conclusions?”

He smiled and kissed her tenderly. “Only that the idea pleases me. I have never truly permitted myself to consider the possibility in the past, so it is rather new to me, but I find the thought of a child of ours to be an agreeable one.” His tone shifted slightly. “Which is not to say that I am not still worried, but I have been meditating instead on the happiness this could bring.”

His words brought tears to her eyes. “Oh, William,” she whispered, her voice choked.

“What did I say?” he asked in dismay.

She smiled through her tears. “Nothing. I am happy to hear it. And I fear that I am quite foolishly emotional these days, so I advise you to accustom yourself to it.

He gathered her into his arms. “Elizabeth, my dearest love. You may be as emotional as you like, so long as you are mine.”

“Always, my love,” she said tearfully.

He slid his hand along her side, bringing it to rest cupped around her breast, somewhat more generously proportioned than usual owing to her condition. “I have been appreciating, too, some of the changes in you that I had failed to note prior to this.”

With an amused look, she responded, “There are quite a number of them, I must say. And I have been feeling him move for several days now.”

“You think it is a boy, then?”

“I have not the slightest idea,” she said with a laugh. “I must call him something, though!”

“Well, I would prefer a girl,” he said definitely. “A girl with her mother’s eyes.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Not an heir to Pemberley?”

“Next time.” A shadow crossed his face, and she knew that his fears had not left him. “Promise me that you will take the best of care of yourself, Elizabeth.”

“I promise,” she said with an indulgent smile. “You need not worry about that; you have any number of servants who have been watching my every move for weeks, and I have no doubt that they would now not hesitate to report any transgression I should make to you immediately!”

“I hope that you will forgive me if I become somewhat overprotective.”

“I have been anticipating it already,” she said ruefully.

“Perhaps you could consider it a disability of mine.” They smiled into each other’s eyes. “I love you very dearly, Elizabeth.” He kissed her with a gentleness that gradually changed to something very different. By the time he released her, she was feeling pleasantly breathless.

His hands began to caress her body, lingering over her abdomen. “And I have a confession to make,” he continued, in a voice that made her pulses race. “I find that I enjoy the idea of my child inside you far more than I should.” Had she any doubts about the manner of his enjoyment, they were quickly put to rest.

*   *   *

Elizabeth was pleased to discover that Darcy’s warm feelings about the upcoming addition to their family persisted. Fortunately, he did not attempt to disguise his periods of anxiety, allowing himself to be reassured by his wife, as well as enduring on a few occasions lectures from Mrs. Reynolds on the subject. If pressed, Elizabeth would have admitted to feeling somewhat smothered by his attentiveness to her health and needs, but it seemed a small price to pay for his greater comfort.

Some weeks after he learned of her condition, Darcy said, “I have been wondering, my love, if it is approaching the time for us to be seeking a wet-nurse.”

Elizabeth gave him a startled glance. “I had not intended to employ a wet-nurse, in fact. I see no reason why I cannot manage on my own.”

“I do not wish you to have any unnecessary stress, and it seems it would be a way to ease matters for you,” he said persuasively, knowing better than to insist immediately.

“William, this is a perfectly natural event, and it will be no different for me than for any other woman. The stress, as you call it, is no danger to me,” she responded firmly.

Darcy frowned. “Elizabeth, I realize that you think I am being foolish, but if there is anything that can be done to allow you an easier recovery, I would feel much better if we did so.”

“I shall be recovered in a matter of a few days! This is nothing to be concerned over!” Elizabeth looked at her husband in some frustration. She did not want his anxieties to affect their everyday family life, yet wished to be sympathetic to his needs. Finally another tack occurred to her. “William, are you aware that women who do not nurse their own babes tend to increase again much sooner than those who do?”

“That seems an unlikely story, Elizabeth,” he said dubiously.

She rolled her eyes. “If you wish, I will ring for Mrs. Reynolds, and you may ask her as to the truth of it. It is hardly something I would expect a man to be aware of.”

He considered this. “Are you certain of this?”

“William, it is well known among women,” she said firmly.

His expression lightened. “Then by all means, let us not employ a wet-nurse, my love. I am in no hurry to repeat this process!”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow amusedly at the alacrity with which he accepted the idea. “You do not wish this child to have younger brothers and sisters?” she teased.

“Allow me some time to recover from this experience first, I pray you!” he responded playfully, but with obvious meaning.

As her time drew nearer, the signs of stress on her husband grew somewhat greater. Elizabeth, after giving