Sharon Lathan - In the Arms of Mr. Darcy

Darcy had observed the unfolding drama with widely divergent emotions. Like his wife, his pride in their son was infinite. He truly considered Alexander the most perfect baby in the entire world and was, therefore, not the least bit surprised at the instantaneous affection. The negative was the epiphany, foolishly not deliberated upon prior, that he would quite probably have to physically evict his child from someone’s arms if he wished to hold him! It was not a pleasant idea and the scowl that threatened to overtake his countenance was fought with all the power at his disposal. Plainly put, Darcy was ragingly jealous! An unattractive emotion to be sure, but there it was.

He entered the parlor last, Lizzy already placing Alexander into her father’s arms. Mrs. Bennet had moved away without a backward glance and was strolling about the room, examining with a keen, covetous eye. George was positioned near the three younger ladies, charming unabashedly. Mr. Daniels stood apart by the window in an uncomfortable pose familiar to the anti-social Darcy. He approached the poor man with a smile.

“Mr. Daniels, what is your preference? Brandy or whiskey, or perhaps wine?”

“Do not trouble yourself, sir.”

“It is no trouble at all,” Darcy assured him, motioning to a footman. “I shall have a brandy, as will Mr. Bennet I am certain. A whiskey for Dr. Darcy, and Mr. Daniels…?”

“Whiskey then, with thanks,” he said in a small voice, face flushing.

“Excellent! Tell me, Mr. Daniels, how fares your father and brother?” Steering the conversation to general subjects, drinks easing the tension, Mr. Daniels began to calm. Darcy attended to the dialogue while keeping an eye on Mr. Bennet, who was grinning widely as he held Alexander and talked quietly with his daughter. Lizzy glanced to her husband, radiant in her happiness, and blew him a tiny kiss.

Darcy winked, the feelings of jealousy waning gradually in the warmth of Elizabeth’s face. His musings were abruptly interrupted by Mrs. Bennet, who he had not noted was nearby.

“Mr. Darcy, Pemberley is magnificent! Surely it must be the finest house in all of Derbyshire? I cannot imagine anything to supplant it. How proud you must be! And to think my little Lizzy is mistress of all this. I would not have thought her capable!”

“I can assure you, madam, that your daughter is eminently capable of handling anything. She is fearless, wise, and extraordinarily accomplished. Far and away the best mistress Pemberley has been blessed with in decades.”

Any further rebuttals were halted by a loud infant squeal from the sofa. Lizzy was laughing at the surprised expression on her father’s face.

“Am I squeezing him too tightly, Lizzy?”

“No, Papa. Alexander is quite demanding when he requires nourishment. A trait inherited from his father, I do believe.” She glanced to Darcy with a grin, her husband crossing to the sofa.

“I would not be too hasty in that assessment, Lizzy, as I recall a young girl who inhaled her food the sooner to return to the play yard or a favored novel.”

“Be that as it may, let me take my little wiggler from you before he displays the full lung capacity at his disposal. Come my darling, save your grandpapa’s ears and let me feed you.”

“Lizzy, can you not have the nanny take him?” Mrs. Bennet asked. “I was hoping for a tour of the house!”

“I am afraid it shall have to wait, Mama, until Alexander is satisfied. Once he is asleep, I will be happy to show you and Papa around.”

Mrs. Bennet was staring at her daughter in shock. “Surely you do not…? That is, is there not a wet-nurse for the baby?”

“No, Mama. I prefer to care for our son’s sustenance myself. Excuse me, Papa,” she kissed her father’s cheek, rising with a fussy Alexander sucking on her little finger.

George breezed in airily. “Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bennet, I would be delighted to escort you both, and the young ladies and Mr. Daniels, on a tour of the manor. If I may be so arrogant, I am quite sure that I am acquainted with the house to a degree surpassing its most superb mistress. After all, I did grow up here and even know the attic corners and hidden passageways.”

“Oh, how exciting!” Kitty exclaimed. “Will you show us the secret passages, Dr. Darcy?”

“Alas, my dear Miss Kitty, my decrepit bones would probably break if I attempted to squeeze into narrow confines. Georgiana can don an old dress at a later date and lead you on an adventure.”

“Uncle!” Georgiana cried, face rosy. “I have no knowledge of such places!”

“Of course not, my dear, of course not.” He winked at Darcy while lending an arm to Mrs. Bennet and Miss Kitty, voice booming in narration as the group filed out. “There is a rather remarkable portrait of my brothers and me, dashing gents all, in the gallery…”

Darcy and Lizzy were left alone with their momentarily placated baby. “William, I am sorry for Mama’s words. Are you disturbed?”

Darcy smiled, bending to kiss her lips gently. “It is of no moment, my dearest. Shall I accompany you to the nursery?”

“Thank you, but no. Join our guests, offering your unique perspective on the wonders of Pemberley. Somewhere in the middle, you can divert my father in the library and enjoy a time of well-deserved solitude. I love you, Mr. Darcy.”

“I love you, Mrs. Darcy. And you too, my precious little love.” He bent to kiss Alexander’s cheek, again kissing his wife. Then with a roll of his eyes heavenward, a tug on his jacket, and a theatric sigh, he exited to follow the echoing rumble of George and the giggles of amused women.

With Christmas just over a week and a half away, winter set in with a vengeance and snow blanketed the ground and vegetation, the entire surrounds bathed in glistening crystals. The larger lakes and ponds enriched with fountains provided breaks in the monotony of white, the handful of winter blooms and evergreen trees lending color, and the shoveled drives and pathways provided clarity and contour. The vivid blue of the sky was frequently obscured by clouds, most grey and threatening. The usual hectic movements of wildlife and humans noted throughout the river valley and bordering forests during fairer weather were essentially gone. Naturally, there were still chores to be done by bundled groundsmen, horses to exercise by jacketed grooms, and the few brave winter fowl, deer, and tiny rodents searching for food to disturb the placid winter scenery.

Pemberley was decorated more lavishly than last year, the maids, footmen, groundsmen, and even the senior staff apparently wholly liberated by the joyous atmosphere over the past year. Twelve short months was all that was required to expunge the years of sadness. They had seemingly denuded the forest of holly, mistletoe, pine boughs, and any other greenery remotely Christmassy, draping every balcony, windowsill, banister, fireplace mantel, and alcove. Darcy’s jest about mistletoe ornaments proved accurate, with balls at every corridor junction and dangling from each ceiling light and threshold. All the heirloom decorations were in place, as well as a sprinkling of others that had been unearthed while rummaging through the attic for baby furnishings. There were three times as many candles strewn about the manor and grounds with several dozen torches placed throughout the gardens.

One corner of the parlor was cleared and draped with yards of gold and silver edged red velvet, onto which was arranged a plethora of brightly wrapped and ribboned presents. Pine branches decorated with tiny candles further adorned the area. The entire parlor furnishings were shuffled to provide more room, so supplementary sofas and chairs obtained from other chambers could provide more sitting room. Both dining rooms were sumptuously adorned, and the ballroom was polished to gleaming. Instruments were tuned, fireplaces were scrubbed, and chimneys swept, vases of fresh flowers were abundant, lamps were filled, windows were cleaned, patios and walkways were freed of all debris, and scented potpourris were everywhere.