In the Arms of Mr. Darcy

thank you.”

“Enough mushiness! Break it up so Elizabeth can open my presents. Two! For you, my darling niece.” George breezed in, bowing with a flourish and handing the largest of the last two presents to Elizabeth while linking arms with Georgiana. “I would say the best has been saved for last, but I doubt my meager offering can transcend Georgie’s. I shall boast, nonetheless, as I too created these masterpieces with mine own hands.” He lifted his long fingered appendages, digits waving. “Skilled surgeon’s instruments employed in the creative process for my grand nephew and partial namesake.”

Lizzy laughed, shaking her head. “Are you ever serious, Uncle?”

“Rarely, my dear. Only when delivering babies. Now open.”

The formless, cushiony bundle was wrapped in one of his Indian scarves—a particularly flamboyant one of chartreuse and orange, all tied with blue string. Lizzy was smiling even before revealing the contents, upon which she burst into huge gales of laughter. Darcy merely shook his head in resignation. Nestled between sheets of tissue paper was a wardrobe of baby and toddler sized Indian outfits! Casual dhotis, salwar, kurti, salwar kameez, all in bright colors and exotic prints, and one formal khalat robe of thick wool lined satin in turquoise with woven peacocks and Bengal tigers.

Gasps and exclamations of awe rose from the gathering crowd as every hand reached to inspect the kaleidoscopic miniature garments. “Elizabeth dear, I fashioned these from the cloths I brought with me or new ones purchased in Town. My nephew deserves to be breezy and as handsome as his Grand Uncle, do you not agree? On a practical note, youngsters should wear clothing that is unencumbering to developing extremities and allows the genitalia to freely grow.”

“Uncle!” Darcy chastised with a pointed glance to Georgiana’s reddening cheeks.

George merely shrugged unperturbed. “It is the truth of it, William. That khalat,” he nodded toward the robe Darcy held in his hands, “is of the same fabric as mine. Very elegant, I daresay, and Alexander will be exceedingly comfortable while reclining with his favored companion: me!” His grin was broad, Darcy laughing and rolling his eyes.

“Do Indian children really dress like this, Dr. Darcy?”

“Actually, Miss Kitty, Indian children rarely wear more than a loincloth. It is far hotter in India, if you recall. But on occasion they do, yes, although I confess the colors are traditionally beige hues. For some unfathomable reason neutral tones do not appeal to me,” he concluded with false confusion.

“I adore your attire, Dr. Darcy, and so admire your bravery in wearing brilliant colors. Goodness knows I would never have the nerve.” Mrs. Gardiner offered, George bowing gallantly in her direction.

Mrs. Bennet was closely examining one of the kurtis. “I am extremely impressed, sir, at your sewing abilities. These stitches are remarkable!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bennet. I do have vast experience with needle and thread, although not often utilized with fabrics you understand.” He grinned, Mrs. Bennet staring incomprehensively for several seconds, then paling and eyes widening humorously as understanding dawned. Muted snickers rippled through the assembly.

George continued, “Of course, as a bachelor I am not blessed with the joy of a loving, devoted wife to darn my socks and mend ripped hems, therefore I must attend to such tasks myself. Tragic really.” He hung his head, tone mournful as the women collectively Aaahed.

Mr. Bennet snorted and Mr. Gardiner coughed a laugh, George winking sidelong. Darcy was inspecting the exquisite two-year-old-sized robe, speaking with skepticism, “You intend to maintain you sewed this yourself? Forgive me, Uncle, as I have no experience with needlework, but my wife informs me that working with such a delicate fabric is incredibly difficult.”

“I would not be too swift in gauging sewing skills in general against anything Lizzy has told you, Mr. Darcy.” Mary interjected with a teasing glance to her sister, who retaliated by sticking out her tongue.

Darcy’s lips twitched, but he held his laughter in check. “Be that as it may, Miss Mary, I persist in believe my uncle dissembling.”

“Oh very well! If you must know I had assistance from a seamstress in Lambton. The patterns, however, were all mine and I picked the materials specifically so Alexander will be most adorably adorned.”

“Well, I love them!” Lizzy declared and lifted on tiptoes to kiss her uncle’s cheek. “Alexander will be adorable. I can already see him dashing up and down Pemberley’s halls in a flash of color. Thank you, George.”

He smiled, kissing Elizabeth’s forehead. “You are welcome, my dear. Well, William?” He turned to his nephew with a raised brow.

“I concede that six months ago I would have been horrified at the prospect, but I suppose I have grown accustomed to the attire.” He smiled dreamily. “Yes, Alexander will look adorable. Very well then, I like them as well, as long as you realize they are for private only. We have our public reputations to maintain.”

“What an old fogy you are!” Richard asserted with a laugh.

“I do not see you dashing out to garb yourself in flamboyant Indian wear, Colonel,” Darcy said primly, fresh laughter erupting.

“Now I have the opportunity to redeem myself after being revealed as a sewing incompetent.” George handed a small package to Darcy. “This I did create with my own hands, honest to God.” He smiled sweetly and sincerely, speaking with emotion, “It is important to me that Alexander have something from me that he can carry with him always. An everlasting remembrance of his beloved uncle and godfather.”

“Oh! George! It is exquisite!”

Lying in the palm of Darcy’s hand and taking up the entire area was a finely detailed, three-dimensional carving of an Asian elephant in pristine ivory. With white trunk raised in the air, mouth agape, curved tusks proudly lifted, small ears erect, legs spread in a run, and tail swishing, the inanimate pachyderm projected a realism so astounding that one held their breath waiting for the trumpet sound to burst forth. Each crease of the rubbery skin and coarse hair was etched in meticulous technicality, the artisanship clearly a gift of expert proportions.

“When did you learn to whittle? I had no idea.” Darcy paused, choked up from the breathtaking beauty of the object in his hand coupled with the rushing memories of his grandfather creating such miniature works of art. Of all the various visions burned upon his memory, the sight of his beloved grandfather with hands masterfully wielding a whittling knife as a flawless creation of wood or other raw, shapeless material gradually evolved into a work of art was foremost.

“My father taught us all. You remember how much he loved to carve. My twin and I were the only ones who inherited the propensity, although after Alex died I refused to touch a sculpting knife for years. Now I find it calms me and the aptitude remains within my hands.”

“Have you seen many elephants?” Kitty asked in awe.

“Hundreds, Miss Kitty. They roam freely in certain regions and the locals do ride them as the stories proclaim.”

“Have you ridden one?”

“Dozens of times.” He chuckled at the wondrous expression on her face. “They look as if they would be slow and plodding, but the contrary is true.” He launched into a lengthy dissertation of Indian mammals and lifestyle that filled the bulk of the evening. The sculptured elephant would eventually be encased in glass and placed next to Darcy’s christening bonnet and shoes in the nursery. Alexander would treasure the figurine for all his life, adding many others sculpted by Uncle Goj to his collection, the marvels always gracing a place of prominence in whatever room he dwelt in.

Per tradition and the precepts of the Anglican Church of England, the christening ceremony served two vitally important objectives. One was the official naming and declaration of the child before the congregation, family, and God. The second was to receive the baptism into the Body of Christ, ensuring that the child begins his or her life on the proper pathway toward a mature affirmation of faith leading to complete salvation.

In order to correctly fulfill the first objective, the christening was to take place on Sunday during the normal worship service when the local congregants were assembled as witnesses. These witnesses accepted the partial responsibility of overseeing the spiritual upbringing of the child, who was henceforth a part of the flock. With this idea in mind, it was also critical to perform the rite at the parish church where the parents were members and by the pastor who ministered to them.

Due to the irrefutable fact of infant illness and subsequent death being a frequent harsh reality, the christening of Alexander William George Bennet Darcy was scheduled for the Sunday that fell three days after