please him.” She retrieved a round, disc-shaped silver rattle filled with beads, one side cut out for small hands to grip. Instantly the gourd was discarded for the new, shiny toy. After a few satisfying shakes, the rattle unerringly entered his mouth for serious chewing, Alexander gibbering happily.
Darcy squeezed him tightly and delivered a kiss to the top of his head. “Better now? Cool, hard metal does the trick, yes? I presume teeth are why he has been drooling so copiously lately?” He turned to his wife with raised brow.
“I believe so. Just when Samuel breathes in relief over the absence of regurgitated milk he must contend with saliva stains.”
“He will learn to deal with it,” Darcy answered with a laugh.
“I have not had the opportunity to share the post with you, what with you distracted with traumatic visions of Georgiana eloping in the darkest hours of the night.”
“Hysterical. Is there no end to the misery inflicted upon me by the women in my life?”
“Perhaps this may help, or perhaps not.” She waved the envelopes. “One should cheer you although the other will likely educe a groan. Which first?”
“I need cheering, especially since my wife has chosen to deny my fervid need for succoring.” He replied with a grin.
“Very well then,” she answered, ignoring his remark. “We received a letter from Anne. That is, Mrs. Raul Penaflor Aleman de Vigo, as she made sure to sign it.”
“Are they not still in Bath?”
“Yes.”
“She is writing letters on her honeymoon?” Darcy shook his head in mock shock, opening the parchment paper handed to him by Lizzy as she sat down beside. “What is wrong with that man? Anne should be far too busy to pen a letter.”
“Just because you kept your new wife locked within the bedchamber for several weeks does not mean every gentleman does so. Bath is lovely, so I am told.”
“I do not recall you arguing the treatment. In fact, I seem to remember an abundance of satisfied expressions,” he said with a leer and arched brow.
Lizzy reddened slightly but laughed. “Just read the letter. You will note that it is not a long letter, so perhaps Dr. Penaflor is not so disappointing in your estimation after all.”
“Good for Anne,” he murmured, unconsciously bouncing the leg Alexander sat on as he began to read. The baby, of course, immediately forgot the rattle and opted to make a grab for the pretty fluttering paper. Darcy held it away, shushing and absently redirecting the silver chew toy back into the infant’s mouth as he continued to read. Alexander, however, chose that moment to notice his feet, dropping the rattle in a concentrated effort to secure the strange, wiggling objects and bring them to his mouth.
Darcy’s smile widened as he read. “She sounds so happy,” he said softly. “Dr. Penaflor is a good man and I never doubted his love for my cousin. But I know her well, know the tenor of her letters in the past, and this is entirely altered. It is a welcome relief to know she is content, blissful even. No one deserves it more than Anne.”
“Let us pray Lady Catherine allows them to resume their blissful happiness once returned to Rosings Park. Frankly, I cannot fathom living in that house with your aunt breathing down my neck.”
“It is a large house. And, I am not sure if you noticed, but the suite Anne ordered to be redecorated is on the opposite wing from Lady Catherine’s residence.”
Lizzy laughed. “Oh indeed! I noticed. Very shrewd of Anne.”
“I believe Dr. Penaflor had a say in the matter. He may wish to maintain civility with his mother-in-law, but he is not a fool.”
Lizzy sighed, staring dreamily for a moment. “It was a beautiful wedding, even with all the pomp. Anne was lovely in that powder blue dress. A perfect color for her skin tone.” Darcy took her hand, smiling. “I admit that I did not expect the ceremony to be charming in any way.”
“It was fairly meretricious.”
“Yes, but within the pretention it was beautiful. Once Raul and Anne were at the altar you only saw them so radiant and in love. The obscene profusion of flowers and glittering regalia faded in the presence of their joy.”
“Aunt Catherine was disappointed that Dr. Penaflor’s parents were not outwardly impressed by the flamboyance,” he said with an evil chuckle. Alexander suddenly voiced a flood of gibberish, seriously gazing into Darcy’s eyes. Darcy laughed, hugging the soft body tightly. “You agree, do you, Alexander? They were enamored by you more than any of the lavish decorations.”
He lifted the baby, holding him upright and facing toward him, and commenced an intent, articulate verbal exchange. Lizzy tended to engage in infantile speech when chatting with her son, but Darcy refused to do so. Lizzy forever teased her husband about using five syllable words and complex sentences to a newly born child, but Alexander responded to the erudite commentary with rapt attention.
“Your Aunt Mary’s wedding was understated but equally beautiful, wasn’t it? Remember the yellow wild flowers that captured your gaze? And your aunt’s purple ribbons that so fascinated you? Yes, you do remember, my intelligent boy. Perhaps you shall be musically inclined, unlike your incompetent father, since you hearkened to the organ music and singing. Which reminds me,” he said, turning to Lizzy, “Mr. Daniels said the newlyweds are expected home in two days. Did Mrs. Daniels send word?”
“She did,” Lizzy answered. “She plans to prepare the house with fresh flowers and linens, stock the cupboards, and so on, before her son and his new wife returned, and wanted to know if Jane and I wished to assist. We made a list of Mary’s favorite food items to be purchased and delivered. Mrs. Smyth was not pleased to have Darcy House servants delivering goods, even to Russell Square.”
“That is ridiculous. Russell Square is an upscale neighborhood and the house Mr. Daniels purchased is excellent. Did she argue with you?” Darcy asked, his tone abruptly dark and eyes narrowing.
“Of course not. She merely pursed her lips in that disapproving way of hers. I doubt if she concurs that a newly built area, even one near Bedford Square that is primarily inhabited by lawyers and others from the professional class, is ‘upscale.’”
“She is walking a thin path, Elizabeth. These continued disrespecting attitudes and veiled insults are annoying me most profoundly. Do you still insist she stays?”
“You know as well as I that she is an excellent housekeeper, William. I can handle it and she truly does not bother me all that much. I find her as amusing as George does, which I know is unkind, but I cannot help it.”
Darcy grunted. “Very well. But one toe over the line and she can find employment elsewhere with no recommendation from me.”
“Anyway, while I am at Mary’s house I will make sure the pianoforte in situated appropriately near the east window as you requested.” She smiled warmly at her husband, caressing over his thigh. “She will be absolutely stunned when she sees your gift.”
“Our gift,” he corrected. “It was only logical. Mary may not be the most talented pianist, but she loves to play so should have an instrument of her own. I just pray Mr. Daniels appreciates her musical ability or he may retaliate by charging me double fees! Now, curiosity is taking hold and I am in an improved humor—although I still may need a few kisses at the least to restore my harmony, so tell me what is in the second envelope.”
“A hand-penned invitation to the wedding of Miss Caroline Bingley and the Earl of Blaisdale—”
Darcy groaned.
“—for the fourteenth day of April—”
“I am sure we cannot make it. I am quite certain that is the day you and Alexander will be sitting for your portrait.”
Lizzy laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. “You know that is not true. We have our sittings scheduled for this week. And besides, a wedding takes precedence over a portrait painting.”
“Not in my opinion! You thought Anne’s wedding was garish with Lady Catherine as organizer? Can you even imagine what Caroline Bingley will concoct?” He shuddered. “It is too painful to fathom. Furthermore, how can I stand at her wedding when I so abhor that man? Even Caroline does not deserve that fate.”
“I think you are too harsh, William, as we have already discussed. She is very happy! You must believe me when I tell you it is so. Lord Blaisdale for all his faults—and I know you are not exaggerating what you know but rather minimalizing for my delicate ears—is quite devoted to her. It is strange, in many respects, but they do seem
