Generally, the nanny attempted to calm the baby herself, not wishing to disturb her Mistress unless essential; however, she was under orders to alert the Darcys the moment Alexander was inconsolable. Neither regarded it as a burden to attend to their son’s needs.
They were fortunate in that Alexander was a temperate infant. He had only suffered two episodes of severe infantile colic, probably as a result of something Lizzy had eaten, Mrs. Hanford informed. Those two nights of pacing and rocking with a disconsolate, screaming baby were hideously memorable. The three had taken turns attempting to placate the suffering and irritated babe, only Lizzy managing limited success at her breast. The frantic parents were distraught, doubly so by the increasing hoarseness of their son’s voice and purple cast to his face. The first night, Darcy was so worried that he woke George, insisting he examine Alexander, which the good doctor was more than happy to do. He and Mrs. Hanford exchanged understanding glances, George assuring the new parents that it was normal albeit distressful. He personally brewed a concoction of herbals, including fennel, chamomile, anise, and dill that did seem to help, or maybe Alexander just wore himself out. Whatever the case, they kept a bottle of the extract in the nursery just in case.
Darcy particularly enjoyed this late night snack, as Alexander was not so ravenous and more apt to willingly play with his father. He walked slowly into the bedchamber, Alexander placated for the moment with his father’s little finger. “Have you been a good boy while I was gone, my sweet? I believe you have gained another half a pound, you gorger. You nearly have two chins!” He laughed, Alexander pausing his steady sucking to gaze into Darcy’s eyes. He had a firm grip to the index finger, chubby fist curled tight, and his legs kept a regular rhythm of strong kicks. He was always moving, Darcy had discovered. Unless asleep or completely satiated with mother’s milk, his body was in action. The day before Christmas he had kicked so hard that he flipped from his side to back, limbs flailing wildly and eyes wide in amazement at the abrupt change.
Darcy sat on the bed beside a reclining Lizzy, not ready to relinquish the lively bundle cuddled in his arms. With eyes locked onto his son’s face, he asked of his wife, “Has he had any bouts of colic while I was away?”
“No. He was a bit fussy two nights ago and slow to suckle contentedly. I gave him a few drops of tonic and we rocked. I discovered that gazing into the flames soothes him. Finally he nursed and slept well. I was relieved it did not ripen into a serious episode, as you were not here to sing to him.” She chuckled at Darcy’s wry smile. “I would not count on him being musically inclined, as he seems to prefer your singing voice to mine.”
“Have no fear, love. Georgie adored my singing and she is incredibly talented. Maybe you will be the Darcy male to break the mold, my darling.” He brought the baby to his lips for a number of tender kisses, Alexander patiently enduring. Darcy ran a hand all over his son’s round body, marveling anew at the combination of vulnerable softness and solid strength. Developing rolls of fat could be felt on his arms and legs, his entire body dominated by an enormous abdomen, and his head hard was still covered with a mass of brown curls. Darcy removed one thick knitted bootie to nibble kisses to a plump, pink foot.
“Praise be to God for keeping you so healthy and perfect,” Darcy whispered, kissing the baby’s brow. “I love you, my son, my precious, precious son.”
“We received a few more gifts before the storm struck. I piled them with the others in the parlor.” She reached up to tickle over Alexander’s exposed toes, dropping her hand to caress lightly over Darcy’s bare knee emerged from an open robe. “We received a package from Lady Catherine and Anne, including an envelope addressed to us which I assume is a wedding invitation.”
“You did not open it?”
“I wished to wait for you. I heard from Charlotte as well, a brief note as they likely all will be for a time to come. She says that the girls are in excellent health; the youngest, Rachel if you recall, has nearly caught up to her sister Leah. What a relief it must be for them.”
“Rachel and Leah. Lovely names, although I find myself thankful they were not male children or they may have been christened Cain and Abel.”
Lizzy laughed. “Or Jacob and Esau, neither option boding well for future sibling tranquility. Anyway, Charlotte says the wedding plans are consuming life at Rosings. I gather it is to be an extravaganza. Apparently, Mr. Collins was disappointed that the ceremony would be taking place in the Ashford Cathedral with the Bishop presiding.”
“Foolish man! What did he think?”
“You know the answer to that question! The date is officially set as February twenty-seven, a week after Mary and Mr. Daniels. That is fortunate if we decide to travel.”
Darcy patted the hand lying on his knee, smiling sympathetically. “Do not worry over it, love. I will do all in my power to ensure you are present at your sister’s wedding and that Alexander is safe. The carriage is solid and we possess a plethora of thick quilts and down comforters. Alexander is healthy and a temperate infant who will travel well, I judge, especially cuddled by us. We can journey in short stages over several days. Of course, all this depends on you, my wee love,” he paused for fresh kisses, Alexander wiggling. “Stay strong and grow stout so we can proudly show you to the rest of your relatives.”
Lizzy smiled joyously at her husband’s antics, nodding in agreement. “Let me see, what else happened while you were gone? Reverend Bertram visited to say he cleared and cleaned the balcony and opened the side rooms to allot more space.”
Darcy laughed. “I have told him at least three times not to fret over it. He seems to imagine half of Derbyshire showing up for the affair, which I deem unlikely. We may esteem our son’s christening as a premiere event, but I assured him that a baby’s naming in general is not a cause of major enthusiasm.”
“It has been many years since a Darcy heir was christened, so to the good Reverend, it is an event of momentous importance. Allow him his moment of glory. By the way, I took the liberty of planning a luncheon party of sorts for that afternoon. Mrs. Langton was instructed to keep it simple and not lavish too much attention on the meal or christening cake, orders that I am sure she will ignore. I trust this meets with your approval?”
He looked at her with a humorous smile and twinkling eyes. “Yes, it meets with my approval, Mistress Darcy. Another occasion to swell with pride at the blessings gifted me in you and our son is always welcomed. Although you, my little ball of energy, will not be attending I am afraid. We have been fortunate thus far to avoid any illness and I will not press our luck.” Alexander erupted in fresh squirms at his father’s tickling fingers under his chunky arms.
“Care to hazard a guess as to who else is in love or a reasonable facsimile thereof?” Darcy lifted the left brow inquiringly. “You will never guess.”
“If you say my baby sister I may have to cry.”
“No, silly. I am speaking of Miss Bingley.”
“You are not serious? Who is the unfortunate gentleman?”
“Fitzwilliam Darcy! Shame.” But she was laughing and he was unrepentant. Lizzy shook her head, slapping him playfully on the knee. “His name is Sir Wallace Dandridge of Chelmsford, Essex.”
“Ah, that mystery is solved.”
“Pardon?”
He shrugged, telling her of Bingley’s frustration regarding endless references to Essex. “I do not believe she has thus far confided in her brother. How did you discover this piece of stunning news?”
“Girl talk, my love.” She replied sweetly with a flutter of her lashes.
Darcy grunted. “Female blathering is the germane phrase, but I am thankful you were not bored in my absence.”
She raised her chin at his lopsided grin, pouting adorably. “I see. And you and Colonel Fitzwilliam swapping romantic advice qualify as professional consultation?”
“Precisely! So when shall Miss Bingley become Lady Dandridge?”
“We gather that it is not official as yet. She hints strongly to an ‘understanding’ of some nature, reveling in the secrecy of it all. Perhaps Sir Wallace is waiting on an opportune moment to speak with Charles.”
“Do you judge her truly in love?” His inflection clearly indicating his dubiousness.
“Difficult to say. Charles is right. Every other sentence is ‘Sir Wallace this’ or ‘Sir Wallace that’ and once she even called him ‘Wally,’ then blushed crimson. It was hysterical. Still, I speculate that she is as enamored by the gentleman’s title as the gentleman himself. Perhaps I am being uncivil, but she does seem particularly smug over the fact that he bears a title and none of our husbands do.”
“I am positive I could buy myself a title if it would please you.” Lizzy snorted and pinched his knee. “Ouch!”
