Elizabeth Darcy sat in her salon at Pemberley watching her sisters Mary and Jane as they traded their first born children and exclaimed over bright eyes, chubby cheeks, and whether teeth were emerging in little gums. Both her sisters were glowing with the happiness of motherhood and Elizabeth could not wait until her own child was born.
Her hands fell to her middle and she caressed the growing bump and thought how happy she and Mr. Darcy had been since their arrival at Pemberley the year before following their wedding trip. The staff had greeted her with much enthusiasm and Mrs. Reynolds had taken her happily under her expansive wing.
Georgiana Darcy had come home shortly afterwards, with her cousin Emily Fitzwilliam in tow, eager to meet her new sister. When Elizabeth thought of the difference in the young lady who sat practicing at the pianoforte across the room, her heart filled with pride. Miss Darcy had recovered quite well from the scandal of Ramsgate with the help of the Matlocks and from her own patient presence as the new mistress of Pemberley.
Elizabeth’s mind wandered to that morning when Mr. Darcy had lain in bed with her and whispered his thanks for her acceptance of his sister. “She is not one to confide easily in others, even those she loves dearest, but yesterday whilst riding the grounds with me she spoke so often of you and the babe it made my heart soar like the clouds that swirled above us. I do believe we shall have snow by this evening, dearest. Shall we take the sleigh to the Collins cottage before dinner?”
Elizabeth had laughed aloud at this suggestion and poked her husband in the ribs. “Oh my, William! I know you do not particularly care for my brother’s company but that you would endure it so that I might sit with Mary and little Constance warms my heart. There is no need for such a sacrifice on your part as Mary shall come this afternoon. She and Jane cannot help but visit and chatter over their babes.”
Mr. Darcy had pulled back the covers then and sat up causing Elizabeth to hug the quilts tighter about her as the cooler air in the room shocked her further awake. Her husband ran his hands through the curls that mesmerized her and she wished for the hundredth time their child would be blessed with the same.
“Charles and I shall inspect a few properties today to find whether there is one he might prefer over Netherfield. You know since Jane delivered little Thomas she has longed to make a home here in Derbyshire.”
Elizabeth gave her husband a push to get him on his feet. “Hurry then and break your fast! You must find them a home so that when our little one arrives, his Auntie Jane and Uncle Charles will be near. I cannot think of birthing my first child without Jane by my side. That she has come when her own child is still so young has made me the happiest woman.”
Mr. Darcy’s face fell at these words from his bride and he pretended to be hurt. “I thought I accomplished that feat over a year ago Mrs. Darcy.”
Elizabeth longed to pull him back into bed and assure him of her joy at being Mrs. Darcy, but she had much to do before the day was done. If snow did indeed fall over the fields of Pemberley, she wished to go out in the sleigh with him and share a romantic ride through the chilly night air.
She rose and wrapped herself in her favorite robe and padded to her husband’s side of the bed presenting an endearing picture to the man that caused him to chuckle as her walk was now more of a waddle than the graceful gait he had come to know in Hertfordshire during their courtship.
Elizabeth entered the circle of his arms and sighed with great contentment as he rested his head against her breast. “My sweet William, of course you made me the happiest woman that day at Netherfield as we said our vows. It shall always be so and I cannot think of one thing that would make me happier except for the moment I see our first child safe in your arms.”
Mr. Darcy’s breath caught in his throat with a hitch and he pulled his wife closer enjoying the warmth of her body and the swell of her middle that pushed against him. He lowered his head and laid his cheek against the very top of that precious curve and waited until their child gave a kick. Elizabeth stroked the curls atop his head that she so loved before stepping away. “Come William, let us break our fast together this morning before your child becomes agitated with the lack of sustenance.”
Elizabeth left him as his valet knocked upon their door. She truly was hungry and knew a moment more in her husband’s arms would mean they would be very late to join their family in the breakfast room.
Her mind returned to the salon as Georgiana’s playing ceased. Mary and Jane walked about the room whispering to the now sleeping babes and Elizabeth rose to receive the hug Miss Darcy offered. “Oh Lizzy, I hope you do not mind but I must go up and make certain Em’s rooms have been made ready. The Matlocks shall arrive soon for their holiday stay.”
Elizabeth kissed Georgiana’s cheek and sent her own her way. Pemberley would soon be full of Matlocks, Bennets, and Gardiners. The Bingleys had come a fortnight ago so that Jane would have Elizabeth to herself.
Noise from the entryway drifted to the salon and Elizabeth wondered if the first of her guests had managed to arrive before the snow fell. She hurried to the salon door Georgiana had left open in time to find her husband and Bingley instructing a footman to hurry upstairs with the loveliest cradle Elizabeth had ever seen.
Mr. Darcy turned as she gasped her surprise and gave a shrug of his shoulders that registered his defeat. “Come, my Elizabeth, and see what I’ve had made for you. It was to be a gift, a surprise, but now that you have seen it I would have your opinion.”
Elizabeth covered her mouth and happy tears gathered in her eyes. She had become as emotional as her mother during her pregnancy but did not care as she approached the footman.
The cradle was lovingly and perfectly crafted from a light colored wood that pleased her eye. The curves and swirling decoration were perfect and the letters E and F upon the tiny headboard sent tears streaming down her cheeks.
Mr. Darcy took out a handkerchief and made soothing sounds as he held his wife. “There, there my love. I knew it would shock you as the cradle I slept in sits ready in the nursery but I wanted something new for our little one.”
Elizabeth shook her head and ran a trembling hand slowly over the engraved letters. “Oh William, I know not what to say. We could place this cradle in our room during the laying in so that the babe may be near to me. I love it so dearly. Thank you!”
Mr. Darcy kissed the top of her head and instructed the footman to place it in their bedroom. “Come, my dear, we must have tea and allow Bingley to speak of the home he has found this day.”
Elizabeth thought her heart might burst from joy and happiness at this news and turned to Mr. Bingley. “Jane shall wish to see it, you know. Perhaps we might take that sleigh ride to the new Bingley estate this evening?”
Mr. Darcy sighed in resignation. “I suppose I must resign myself to sharing your company tonight Mrs. Darcy.”
Elizabeth held her husband’s arm to keep him from following Mr. Bingley into the salon. “We shall take our own sleigh, Mr. Darcy, and have another made ready for the Bingleys.”
Her tone left no doubt of the kisses she meant to share with him and the liberties she expected he might take on their romantic journey about the countryside.
Instead of waiting to claim a searing kiss when they were alone later that night in their room, Mr. Darcy pulled his wife into the shadows of a niche in the wall beside the salon and worshipped her lips for several long minutes.
Elizabeth caught her breath when he pulled away and rewarded her with a wicked smile. Mr. Darcy took her hand and pulled her towards the stairs. “Perhaps we might go upstairs and be certain that cradle is positioned perfectly.”
A footman appeared with a tea cart laden with treats and Elizabeth’s stomach gave a loud growl. Mr. Darcy shook his head in defeat and laughed. “Maybe after tea then Mrs. Darcy?”
Elizabeth fell in step behind the footman and glanced over her shoulder. “I shall have regained my strength after tea sir.”
Her brows rose and Mr. Darcy caught her meaning. He joined her before she stepped into the parlor, his voice a mere whisper that tickled her ear. “You shall need it my love for I have thought of nothing more than returning home and making you my captive for the hours before dinner.”
A gust of wind halted the Darcys progress into the salon and Mr. Collins appeared at the door. He had finished his duties as curate under the vicar at Kympton that day and was pleased to settle for the evening at Pemberley with his wife and child in anticipation of the holiday travelers.
Though at first Mr. Collins had been offended to be placed as a curate beneath the vicar at Kympton, for it was a lesser living than he had held in Hunsford, Mr. Darcy was quite generous in supplementing his income. In the end, he had become grateful for the consideration and the means provided which allowed a comfortable home for his wife and child.
Now, his brother and patron stepped forward and offered his hand in welcome. Mr. Collins was not under the impression that Mr. Darcy enjoyed his company but rather abided it for the sake of his wife. After accepting the warm embrace of Elizabeth Darcy, the parson followed the couple into the salon for tea.
Mr. Collins moved swiftly to the fireplace to relieve the chill of riding to Pemberley. The sight of his Mary and their babe warmed his heart more quickly than the dancing flames in the fireplace might warm his hands and he longed to go to them.
Jane Bingley stood beside his wife, her happiness matching Mary’s and he thought how perfectly suited were the Bingleys. He had once thought Jane to be the most beautiful Bennet sister but time had shown his error on that point.
He turned at Elizabeth’s laughter and found himself pleased she had secured Mr. Darcy’s heart. She was a much better match for the master of Pemberley than Miss Anne de Bourgh might have been. His cousin could give Mr. Darcy what Miss Anne could not, a home filled with the laughter of children.
The sweet voice of his wife calling to him drew Mr. Collins from his thoughts and the fireplace. He hurried to her side eager to bestow a kiss upon her lips. Mary Bennet Collins was the jewel of the Bennet sisters and no one could ever persuade him to believe differently.
Her tenderness blossomed for him and their daughter and he loved her more than he imagined he ever might. Now as he stood beside her and looked down on their sleeping child, he knew she was the most lovely and bravest lady he had ever known.
She had gone against her father’s wishes in his very own study and compromised the man she loved without hesitation bringing an end to his own overwhelming loneliness and her certain future as a spinster.
Because of Mary’s forgiving heart and bold, clever compromise, he knew love in all its fullness and joy.
They were Mr. and Mrs. William and Mary Collins.
The End