In the Arms of Mr. Darcy (8 page)

"Essex?" Richard asked in surprise. "What does Essex have to offer?"

"Hanged if I know. She spent several weeks there with a society friend of hers, Miss Beatrice Dandridge, and now suddenly its Essex this and Essex that. She slips it in somewhere every other sentence. Frankly, it is driving me mad."

"Essex has its charms, especially the coastal areas. Remember Mr. Hardin, Richard? He has a lovely estate near Southend-on-Sea. I spent a few weeks there one summer while at Cambridge."

"Perhaps so Darcy, but Miss Dandridge lives near Chelmsford. It is not that far from Hertford, and we all know how enthusiastic she was about the country surrounding Netherfield." The sarcasm was evident in Charles's voice. He shook his head, "It makes no sense whatsoever."

"Who can understand a woman, eh, Darcy?" Richard said with a nudge to his cousin's booted foot. "Unfathomable creatures all, but we love them nonetheless. Here's to the fairer sex!" He lifted his glass toward Bingley and Darcy, who both laughed, Darcy shaking his head.

"Pathetic. I do pity the woman who ensnares you, dear cousin. Now, if you both will excuse me a moment, I think my son needs to be put to bed." Darcy rose, Alexander a limp weight although he continued to suck sleepily on his first two fingers. Lizzy was approaching Caroline and Louisa as Darcy drew near.

"Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, forgive me for not properly greeting you sooner. It has been rather chaotic. Welcome to Pemberley and merry Christmas. Mr. Darcy and I are delighted to have you celebrate with us." She turned to her husband with a smile, laying one hand lightly on his arm.

"Welcome, Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst. How long has it been, Mrs. Hurst? At least two years?"

"Approximately, Mr. Darcy. Many things have altered. I do not believe I have ever seen Pemberley so elaborately adorned. It is lovely."

Darcy smiled and bowed slightly, Alexander clutched securely. "Thank you. Many things have changed here at Pemberley, Mrs. Hurst, aside from the decorations."

"So it seems. Congratulations on the birth of your son. He appears to be a healthy infant."

"Quite healthy, and asleep and heavy." He turned to his wife. "Elizabeth, I will put him to bed. Pardon me ladies, I will return momentarily." And with another short bow, he left.

Lizzy watched him depart with a happy smile, unconsciously releasing a sigh before turning her attention to her guests.

"Mr. Darcy certainly is an attentive father," Caroline said. "Who would have thought him the type? Playing foolishly in plain sight of all and now attending to the task of carrying to the nursery! Do you not have a nanny for such things, Mrs. Darcy?"

"We do, but as I recall stating many months ago within your hearing, Miss Bingley, we intend to provide for our child's needs as much as possible. It is a joy to do so, a joy we both treasure." She chose not to comment on the fact that Mr. Darcy was precisely the "type" to cater ridiculously to his loved ones, a fact Miss Bingley should be aware of given his long standing devotion to Mr. Bingley.

"How was your sojourn in Essex? Jane said you spent over a month there at the Dandridge estate. I recall meeting Miss Dandridge at the soiree at Lord Calvin's. I was not aware she was a close friend of yours. I have a cousin who lives near Braintree and know how beautiful the countryside is thereabouts. Not particularly exotic or glamorous, but certainly refreshing and good for a horseback ride if nothing else."

Caroline smiled. "Indeed. Thankfully, I do adore riding so was not too terribly bored. There were enough diversions to entertain." She finished softly with a faint flush spreading over her cheeks. Lizzy cocked her head in puzzlement, her musings interrupted by an exclamation from Kitty.

"Can we finish opening presents now, please? Papa, this is from Mary and me."

The revealing commenced. Lizzy sat beside a mildly paler Jane, squeezing her hand. The gentlemen assumed the roles of couriers, delivering labeled packages to the ladies. Every attempt was made to open neatly, one at a time, but enthusiasm occasionally overcame caution with ribbons and paper flying. Darcy rejoined a group in a state of moderate, lively chaos. Laughter was rampant with frequent jumping up to hug someone across the room, gifts being passed about for inspection, and exclamations of appreciation.

Darcy stood beside his wife, hand warm on her shoulder. She glanced upward, eyes sparkling as she clasped his fingers, lifting for a kiss to his knuckles. He smiled, brushing across her cheek before turning to Richard. "Colonel Fitzwilliam, the gold wrapped box to your right is addressed to Mrs. Darcy. Yes, that one. Bring it here please."

"For you, my lady," Richard bowed gallantly, placing the flat box onto her lap.

"Thank you, Richard. William, I thought we were done. You already gifted me three new gowns, the sardonyx cameo brooch of a mother and child that I absolutely adore, the leather bound edition of Wordsworth's
Lyrical Ballads
, two new pairs of gloves, handkerchiefs, and what else... oh yes, the wooden table with drawers to sit beside my chair!"

"Trifles, my dear. The latter essentially because I was weary of seeing your sewing scattered all over the ground." He grinned and squeezed her shoulder. "This, in addition to the larger box in yonder corner"--he pointed to a now visible package previously buried under the mound of presents--"is your main gift from me."

"William, really..."

"You may as well just open it, Lizzy," Jane interjected, smiling at her brother-in-law. "It is purchased and wrapped. I doubt if there is any chance it will be returned."

"Absolutely none. Thank you, Mrs. Bingley, for your support. My wife has yet to comprehend the realities of being spoiled by her husband. I pray you do not torment Bingley with useless arguments and quibbling."

"I fear she does," Charles said with a laugh. "However, I do believe we should be thankful, Darcy. After all it was the modesty, virtue, and economy of spirit which partially drew us to the Bennet sisters, along with other stellar attributes I hasten to add."

"Lord have mercy! We will be here until next Christmas at this rate! Open it, Elizabeth, before these two begin reciting poetry and destroy all our appetites!" George declared, Mr. Bennet laughing and nodding in agreement.

Jane blushed, Lizzy laughing as she began untying the ribbons.

"Honestly, Lizzy, and you too, Jane, be thankful you have husbands able to present such treasures! How fortunate you both are!"

"Thank you for the reminder, Mama," Lizzy said with sarcasm.

Of course Lizzy was quite familiar with her husband's need to shower her with gifts. It was a habit borne of his deep love for all those dearest to him; an expression established long before she entered his life. The logical conclusion was simply to accept it, but her nature would not allow her to ever be mercenary or greedy and, therefore, it was mildly uncomfortable. She glanced upon his glowing visage, much like a child with a secret, and could only say a silent prayer of thankfulness.

The box contained a book bound with fine calf leather dyed a deep blue with gold leaf etching along the spine. The pages inside were blank, the intent of which was unmistakably indicated by the gold emblazoned Alexander William George Bennet Darcy scrolled across the front cover.

Before Lizzy could find her voice, Darcy was kneeling with hands caressing over the exquisite binding. "It is a memory book. I saw something similar in Derby. I had this made by a bookbinding establishment in London that has restored numerous antique volumes I have purchased over the years. You can write your thoughts, facts as he grows, ink prints of his feet, memories of first words, when he walks, and anything else that comes to mind. Is it not a fabulous idea?"

"Darcy, this is marvelous!" It was Charles, face suffused with enthusiasm. "Where did you get it?" The new father and father-to-be launched into a discussion, Jane and Lizzy exchanging amused glances.

"William, thank you so much! It is a marvelous concept, keeping an itemized log, so to speak, of his transitions and growth. Will you write in it as well?"

"If you wish. My mother kept a similar journal for Georgie and me. I ran across them in the attic, having not thought on it for years." His voice grew quiet, eyes far away for a spell as he stroked the embossed name of their son. "Such memories are priceless." He cleared his throat gruffly with a slight shrug, voice firmer as he resumed. "The other gift accompanies and is the last, I promise. Merry Christmas, my love."

It was a trunk of cedar, approximately three feet cubed with short legs, sturdily if plainly constructed with no embellishment other than "Alexander" carved in rough block letters across the lid. The sweet aroma of cedar pervaded the air, every eye lifting from individual unwrapping to observe the scene.

"Mother kept particular artifacts in a series of boxes, some that I discovered damaged. I did not want that to happen to Alexander's favorite toy, first shoes, blanket, or anything else we deem worthy of keeping. So I built this..."

"You built it?" Caroline interrupted in astonishment, Darcy glancing to her face with a smile.

"I am quite skillful with my hands, Miss Bingley. Unfortunately, I do not have the talent for whittling or engraving as did my grandfather, so it is unadorned, but it will withstand the test of time and any pounding by a rowdy son! I thought it would fit nicely below the window in the nursery."

"Absolutely! It is fantastic." Lizzy raised one hand to lightly brush his cheek. "Thank you, William, again."

"I do hope you kept the pattern, William, so you can create more. I think you will need an entire collection in due course." George declared with a wink, Lizzy blushing but Darcy meeting his eyes boldly.

"Not a problem, Uncle. I have a very good memory."

"I pray you are an adequate instructor as well, Darcy, as I want you to teach me how to construct a cedar box for our child. I have never worked with wood, so it shall be a challenge for you." Charles looked at his friend with a grin.

"Really, Charles! Carpentry? Is not sheep farming and walnut harvesting enough manual labor for you? It is so, so... common!" Caroline was truly aghast.

Darcy's mumbled and sarcastic thank you was lost behind Bingley's reply, "Honestly, Caroline! It is not as if I pick the nuts myself or shovel manure. I manage an estate, and none of this has any bearing on desiring to construct a memory box for my firstborn."

"Attaboy, Mr. Bingley!" George declared with a stunning clap to the younger man's shoulder. "Artistic creativity is food for the brain! Keeps the nerve's firing, eh, Mr. Bennet?"

"I cannot claim any particular skills with my hands, Dr. Darcy, but I do agree with the philosophy. Although, I have assisted in the mending of the fence a time or two and did apply saw and hammer to create a finely wrought birdhouse and feeder which yet graces the east garden."

"Oh, I remember that!" Mary spoke up with a rare burst of enthusiasm. "I was but seven or so, Papa, and I recall you let each of us hammer a bit and Lizzy sawed. Jane, you carved the perches, is that not so?"

Jane was blushing, Charles gazing at her with pride. "It was a small thing really. I merely smoothed several branches. We all worked on it together. Even Lydia, who was barely four or five, was placed in charge of handing each nail."

Lizzy and Kitty were smiling in memory. Caroline sniffed, "Well, I suppose such an endeavor could be amusing, in certain circumstances. Seems a trifle rustic to me. Artistry is one thing, but pounding wood strikes me as a menial chore destined for the working man."

Darcy was stiff with indignation, hand tight on Lizzy's shoulder. She caressed his white knuckles tenderly, opening her mouth to flash a retort, but was halted by her mother's voice, "Of course, Miss Bingley, you have a point! I am certain the venture will not be a frequent activity for either Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley. Men of their fine stature and finances have no need to lower themselves to such base levels, naturally. Do not fret!"

"I am of the opinion that talent of all kind, whether it be musical or architectural or scientific or any of a million other realms are all gifts inspired of God and, therefore, to be acknowledged and pursued extensively, otherwise it is an insult to the Giver. As the Declaration penned by the founders of the Americas states, 'all men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their Creator.' No tasks are too menial or unnecessary, Miss Bingley."

All in the room were staring with amazement at Mary, who had delivered this quietly voiced speech. The attitudes may have varied as to the veracity of her words, but all were momentarily speechless. Not surprisingly, it was Dr. Darcy who shattered the silence first with a raised cup of tea and ringing endorsement, "Here, here, Miss Bennet! Well said indeed. I'll drink to that!"

The mood thus lightened, Lizzy turned to Richard, "Colonel, now that my husband has finally exhausted the gift giving, it would be an appropriate time to retrieve the package you assured me was in your safekeeping. If you please?"

Richard bowed formally. "As you wish, Mrs. Darcy. Pardon me a moment." And with a brisk clap of his military boot heels, he pivoted and exited the room.

"Secrets, Mrs. Darcy?" Darcy asked with a raised brow.

"It is Christmas, my dear."

"While we are waiting, Lizzy, this is from all of us Bennets. We pooled our resources." Kitty placed a smallish, but heavy gift on her lap, stooping to kiss her cheek. "Merry Christmas."