“Well, either way, the boys will be happily surprised. And they did not have enough presents anyway.”
“Ha! Tell me that after my aunt and uncle arrive for dinner. You would think with Richard now adding to the Fitzwilliam flock they would not shower our children with trinkets.”
“There,” she declared, sitting back on her heels. “It looks beautiful.”
Darcy paused to survey the scene, including his gorgeous wife in the tableau, and had to agree. The flickering glow from the perpetually burning Yule log cast a ruddy sheen over the array of colorful tissue and rag-paper wrapped packages stacked on the plush velvet drape spread nearby. It was the perfect corner with the window above kept partially uncloaked so any starlight or moonbeams could enter in. The fire added to the illumination and the holiday atmosphere was further accented by the bundles of mistletoe and holly branches strategically hanging over everything. The newest acquisition was a three-foot tall Father Christmas carved and painted by George Darcy that sat on a small shelf above. It was as if the historical Yuletide visitor was watching over the collection, his mischievous grin casting some doubt on his intentions!
They tarried in the parlor to enjoy the holiday scene, comfortable atop a layer of cushions, and snuggled under a fire-warmed blanket before the burning log. Darcy caressed Lizzy’s abdomen. Approximately two or three weeks away from the anticipated birth, her belly was smaller than in previous pregnancies. Lizzy was carrying this baby completely different than she had with their two boys, joking with some irritation that she resembled a pear. Darcy thought it was wonderful, convinced that the pronounced deviations meant it had to be a girl! Lizzy thought that was ridiculous. Even this close to her date of confinement, the overall growth and weight gain was far less than previously. George assured them that it was still within normal parameters and that the baby appeared quite healthy if constant activity was any indication!
Finally, as the mantel clock chimed one o’clock, they rose to return to their bedchamber. They knew they would be woken in a mere four or five hours, Alexander catapulting onto his father with all the exuberance of a youngster anxious to open his presents.
Darcy halted her at the top of the Grand Staircase, pulling her into a firm embrace where they stood just under the enormous kissing bough that was yearly redecorated with fresh greenery and polished until gleaming.
“One kiss under the Darcy bough,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to brush over hers. “It shall bring us luck.”
“You are a superstitious man, Mr. Darcy.”
“Or simply grasping onto another opportunity to kiss my stunning wife.”
Who knows how long the kiss may have continued if not for the strange popping sensation Lizzy felt from the recesses of her loins that was followed by a gush of warm fluid streaming down her thighs into a puddle on the marble floor. She gasped, jerking out of Darcy’s arms, and exclaimed a shrill, “Oh my!”
Darcy was perplexed for about two seconds before processing the information and meeting his wife’s embarrassed and startled eyes. He was jubilant! His eyes sparkled, the grin spreading over his face reaching from ear to ear. “A Christmas baby! Ha! Once again, my dearest, I am immeasurably thrilled that you never do anything as it is expected of you!”
And with a booming laugh he swept her into his arms.
“The boys will be disappointed that I ruined their Christmas!”
“Nonsense. They will consider their sister the best gift of all.”
And he was correct on both counts. The boys were overjoyed to greet their newest sibling later that afternoon, loving her wholeheartedly and forever, even if Noella Holly Jane Darcy would prove in time to be puckish, high-spirited, and fiery as often as she was loveable, generous, and jocose.
Christmas Morning
The bed curtains were drawn tightly with only a mere slit allowing Lizzy to see the darkness of the chamber. There was nothing within her eyesight to hint toward the time of morning, but an internal clock gave the impression of a pre-dawn hour. For a few seconds she wondered what had roused her. Surely it was too early for the children to be awake, even as anxious as they were to open the presents in the parlor. No, it wasn’t the patter of feet and shouts of tiny voices raised in enthusiasm. Rather, it was the muted sounds of her husband adding a log to the fire and then the metallic click of the door’s bolt being thrown that woke her.
She smiled, stretching her limbs under the sheets still warmed by his body. Christmas guests and customs varied, and new traditions were added each year, but the one established on their first Christmas together had been kept. Whether later in the day due to their children sharing the bed with them or before being disturbed for the Christmas festivities, they allotted time for intimacy.
Lizzy may have wanted to sleep longer and was certain by the stealth employed as Darcy tread about the room that he did not propose to wake her quite yet, but she discovered that she was more than ready to greet their eighth Christmas as a married couple, even if the sun was hiding below the horizon.
Darcy gingerly pulled the heavy burgundy velvet drape aside and carefully slid his tall, muscular body under the thick coverings so as not to lift them off his wife’s bare skin. He slithered across the cool expanse until reaching the burrow created by where he had lain nestled against her back. Fully intending to resume his customary sleeping position with Elizabeth clutched within his arms and legs, snuggling on the edges of sleep for an additional hour or two, he was surprised when she rapidly flipped over and pulled his face down for a hard kiss.
“Merry Christmas, my dearest,” she breathed minutes later.
“I apologize for waking you. I did not mean to.”
“I am happy you did, intended or not. I find that I want you far more than sleep.”
He chuckled. “I love the increased ardor of pregnancy.” His lips traveled over the sensitive skin along her neck while one hand caressed the soft abdominal swell barely palpable under his palm.
“I am not convinced it is primarily due to pregnancy. It may simply be that you are so desirable that I cannot resist you.”
“If you insist that is the reason I will not argue. But I have noticed a pattern after three previous children. When you are not leaning over a chamber pot, that is.”
Lizzy grimaced. Like with Noella, her morning sickness for the first trimester had been horrific. Doing anything besides vomiting was nearly impossible. Darcy smugly announced that the similarity meant they were blessed with another girl, a declaration Lizzy was willing to accept primarily because she was too unwell to argue. Now, with perfect health restored, she was making up for lost time—in every aspect.
After fulfilling tradition, they dozed for a few more hours, Lizzy rousing when the clock chimed six o’clock. She nudged Darcy’s inert side, earning a weak grunt. “We should dress in our night clothes before the children arrive pounding on the door.”
“Mrs. Hanford will not let them invade us until seven at the earliest,” he muttered. He cupped the bulge that was more prominent when she lay on her side, wishing the baby were large enough for him to feel when moving. “Did you hear that Richard felt their baby move last week for the first time?”
“Yes. Apparently he was as ridiculous as you always are, and as ridiculous as he was with Emery.”
“I honestly never thought I would be sharing these paternal moments with my cousin. And the fact that you and his wife seem to conceive at roughly the same time is a nice bonus.”
“Indeed it is, for all of us. I am so happy they are here this year. I think our Noella has decided Hugh Pomeroy is her personal knight.”