George flashed his toothy grin at Lizzy, winking at her jest. “Not a problem, my dear. I can dye them fuchsia or maroon or blue to match. I even have the red left over from coloring my Christmas outfit.” He lifted one long, thin leg, the bright red, loose, Indian-style trousers a stunning complement to the flowing kurta of three shades of green that covered his broad chest. They were all so familiar with Darcy’s eccentric uncle’s chosen way of dressing that none had even blinked when he strutted into the dining room that morning proudly modeling his “Christmas ensemble.” George had been visibly deflated at the lack of response, prompting Darcy to take pity upon him and mutter grumpily that, “In this one instance, it is fortuitous Elizabeth’s illness prevents me the embarrassment of attending church with you and witnessing the elderly ladies fainting in fright.” George had beamed, his mood instantly improved.
“Apparently our son agrees with Georgiana’s opinion.”
All eyes swung to Alexander, still sitting in Darcy’s lap, but now seriously intent upon the task of pulling sock puppets onto his chubby legs. The elegant, ball gown dressed lady puppet encased his left leg, but the grandfather puppet was not cooperating as well. Alexander frowned, deep creases between his thick brows, azure eyes squinting with concentration as his dexterous fingers manipulated the knitted edges from between his toes where they kept getting caught.
Everyone laughed at the humorous picture. Darcy reached to assist but was given an irritated glare and elbow nudge.
“I do it! No he’p, papa!”
Darcy buried his face into his son’s wild, curly locks, shaking with laughter. Present opening shifted to gifts for the adults as Alexander refused to veer from placing sock puppets onto the stuffed, gangly extremities of his gibbon. He approached the procedure with the single-minded focus inherited from his father, finally managing to garb the ape before turning to the next glittering box.
Alexander next acquired a miniature kaleidoscope, the brass tube gripped and twisted with glass lens pressed against his eye for a full ten minutes. The wooden wagon was tremendous fun for three fast-paced circuits about the parlor after which his disenchantment was obvious when he exited the moving vehicle with a nosedive onto the floor. No permanent damage was done, hugs and sympathetic kisses by a remorseful father restoring his good humor.
Each pair of the twenty species of painted animals had to be positioned in a precise line awaiting entry on Noah’s balsa-wood Ark ere Alexander was satisfied enough to pay heed to anyone in the room. Only then was the grand finale carried in by two footmen: a three-foot tall, six-foot square, to-scale replica of a medieval castle jointly created by Darcy and George. It was complete with functioning drawbridge and portcullis, crenellations, towers at each corner, arrow slits, and a painted moat. Tiny cannons and catapults were manned by enough tiny knights of shiny tin that, if added to the tin Regimental soldiers stored in the playroom, Alexander’s army could withstand a pretend Saxon siege for years.
Lizzy watched it all from her comfortable roost on the chaise. The effort to control the persistent tickle in her throat, ignore the pain in her chest, and keep her eyes open sapped her already depleted strength, but Lizzy fought the impulses. She sipped the medicinal tea brewed by Dr. Darcy, smiling brightly whenever Darcy pierced her with his hawk-eyed gaze. If some of her sparkle was due to a fever, it was enough to placate her overprotective husband.
Darcy smiled in return, frequently reaching to tenderly caress her quilt-covered body or stooping to kiss her hand or forehead. He wasn’t fooled by her brave act but knew it was fruitless to argue, yet he kept one joyful eye on his son and one sharp eye on his wife as the Christmas merriment unfolded.
As the maids gathered up the debris and Georgiana and George organized the gifts, Alexander stood up and toddled toward his mother. The movement was disjointed due to the clutter on the floor and the long limbs of the primate entangling about his legs, Darcy assisting the process.
“M’key, Mama.” He held the stuffed toy out for his mother’s inspection.
“He is a beautiful monkey, my sweet. Help him up, William, please.”
Darcy lifted Alexander onto the chaise, the baby instantly snuggling onto her chest with thumb in his mouth and the gibbon clutched tightly. “I think Dog may have competition,” Darcy said. “Is he too heavy, love?”
“No. He feels so good.” She kissed his curly head. “Cuddling is not a top priority these days so I must take it when I can get it.”
Darcy chuckled. “That is true.”
“He is a man of action like his father.”
“Perhaps, but I never pass up a chance to embrace his beautiful mother.”
Lizzy started to laugh but the sound caught in her throat, inciting a violent coughing episode. Within seconds Alexander was grabbed by George and a breathless Lizzy was gathered into Darcy’s arms. She tried to protest as he strode briskly from the room but simply did not have the energy or free air to do so.
“You will rest for the remainder of the afternoon and I shall have dinner brought to you. Do not argue with me, Elizabeth!” But an argument was not forthcoming as she pliantly melted into his stalwart embrace and succumbed to her need for sleep before he reached their upper floor chambers.
Christmas Addition
It was nearly midnight on another Christmas Eve. The halls, as always, were faintly illuminated with spaced lamps burning low. Darcy and Lizzy crept down the stairs, heading toward the parlor.
“Explain to me again why we are being so stealthy when the boys are soundly asleep in our room? And why we are adding more presents to the sky-high pile in the first place?”
“Very funny, Mr. Darcy. Just because you were too lazy to leave our bed, do not pretend you have forgotten this was your idea in the first place.”
“Can I help it if sleeping cuddled with you and our boys is preferable to traversing freezing corridors in my bare feet?”
“You are tough. Now, put those packages right there in front where the boys will see them first off. No, no! Stack them nicely, William!”
She leaned over to meticulously arrange the presents he had dumped onto the carpet, Darcy kneeling beside. He grinned and nudged her shoulder. “You know, I do not recall ever making love on Christmas Eve before the Yule fire.”
“If we had, I am sure you would remember it.”
“No doubt of that. Seems quite remiss of us, do you not agree? And it is almost Christmas, so I believe it is obligatory. I think it is a commandment in the Bible.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Unbelievable. I shall do my best, but considering the condition I am in, I may well fall asleep midway through.”
He nuzzled kisses to her ear, one hand caressing the swell of her belly. “I am confident I can find ways to keep you interested.”
“Arrogant,” she teased, turning to kiss his lips.
“Hmm… Absolutely. But you forgot virile, wildly handsome, supremely masculine, and crazily in love with you.”
“I shall consider the notion after you help me with these and only if you do an excellent job.” She smiled and patted his cheek. “It really was a fine idea, Fitzwilliam. Alexander thinks he is so smart and has all his gifts figured out. Discovering new ones delivered by the mysterious Father Christmas will shake his composure.”
“I would not count on it. I have been reading him all the stories so he knows that Father Christmas does not bring gifts but brings good cheer, although I have tried to gloss over the fact that spirits are usually the impetus for all that cheer. I made up a few bits here and there since he cannot read all that well yet, but I am not sure he is convinced about Father Christmas toting presents all over England in the dark of night.”