She untangled her limbs from Darcy’s with alacrity, out of the bed and retrieving her fallen robe before a breath was taken. The abrupt movement and sudden blast of chill air over his uncovered skin, Lizzy forgetting to re-tuck the blankets in her haste, roused Darcy.
“Elizabeth? What?”
“Alexander is awake. Go back to sleep, dearest.”
“Bring him here,” he mumbled, rising laboriously to stoke the fire as Lizzy dashed from the room. Angry howls greeted her from the middle of the sitting room, their son’s lungs in no way fragile. Mrs. Hanford was completing the annoying task, in Alexander’s opinion, of changing his diaper, the infant only calming when his crooning mother picked him up.
“Come, sweetheart, be patient. Let’s go see your father. Not too far away, little love. No, no, do not cry!” But it was to no avail, Alexander’s stomach especially empty after the nighttime stretch of sleep. If Darcy had managed to drift into a doze, it was shattered at the entry of his wife and hollering son. He merely chuckled though, withdrawing the blankets so Lizzy could nestle against his warmth, lying on her side and finally quieting the distressed babe at her breast.
Darcy leaned on an elbow, encircling his family with the other arm and stroking Alexander’s back. “Yes, quite the temper, my lad, but it is good to know your appetite is a healthy one.” He kissed Lizzy’s neck, settling in the soft bend to observe the baby nursing.
“I love how he kneads against your breast while he sucks. Rather like a kitten.” The smile could be heard in his voice, Darcy rubbing one finger over the tiny rhythmically opening and closing hand atop the breast he suckled on. The baby’s eyes were closed in deep concentration, by all appearances unaware and unconcerned with the people around him. Of course, this was not true; Alexander was merely innocently confident and content in the love of his parents. “Merry Christmas, my little kitten. And to you as well, beloved wife.”
The words were accented with a warm caress down her side, over hips to abdomen, pulling closer against his pelvis. He bestowed another kiss to her neck and sighed happily before settling to watch their son.
It was a wonderfully lazy way to begin their second Christmas together. Darcy had returned to sleep by the time Alexander finished. Mother and son drifted away within the heat of Darcy’s embrace, the comfortable bed a haven on a wintry day. Lizzy woke over two hours later feeling cramped between two immobile bodies of raging internal temperatures. Alexander’s brow was actually sweaty! She cautiously vacated the bed, carrying the baby to his cradle and then freshening up before returning to her husband.
Darcy lay much as she had left him, having shifted only slightly and still soundly asleep. It was unusual for him to sleep so late, the sun well over the hazy horizon and casting bright beams of light around the gaps in the curtains. Lizzy smiled as she paused to observe him.
Did our activities last night wear you out, my lover? she thought with a sensuous grin. Well, I do hope your energy is restored!
And with that libidinous thought, she shed her robe and crawled under the covers. He gathered her instinctively, but was not fully awake until her lips had completed their leisurely travels from the hollow of his throat to his navel. Darcy woke a happy and satisfied man. The vision of his wife, the touch of his wife, and the love of his wife combined to nearly be more than one man, even as virile and lusty as Darcy, could handle.
Yet he handled it well.
“Merry Christmas, Fitzwilliam,” were the only words she uttered as she straddled his hips, unifying beautifully and proceeding to show him how he thrilled her, how she adored him, how perfect he was, and how profound her love.
Chapter Three
The Second Noël
The relatively fair weather from the prior day lasted, allowing for ease in travel both to the quaint chapel in the Village and for their evening’s guests. Traditions prevailed in both breakfast foods as well as Christmas activities, meaning that in many ways this Christmas was indistinguishable from last year and all the ones that would follow. Mrs. Langton and her staff had prepared a stupendous breakfast heartily enjoyed by everyone in the elaborately bedecked dining room. Everyone wore his or her finest garments, Mr. Bennet dashing in the new suit purchased for his trip to visit Lizzy in London the previous spring. Marguerite and Samuel’s consulting was now an expected arrangement, Lizzy and Darcy therefore dressing in nearly identical shades of blue with silver threads and trim.
Reverend Bertram preached a flawlessly constructed if unsurprising sermon on the birth of Christ. Lizzy had learned over the past year that the children of the parish performed at least three times a year: at Easter, for All Saint’s Day, and during Christmas. It varied from celebration to celebration, either with a play or singing or, in the case of Easter, a puppet show. This year the youngsters gathered in the chancel dressed in choir robes, accompanied by the organist as they lifted their childish voices in a number of seasonal hymns. The finale was the older children singing “The Twelve Days of Christmas” while the tiniest held up corresponding signs with painted pictures of the vocalized gifts. Naturally there were mishaps, especially as the singers inevitably sped up the rhythm as the lengthy song progressed, but the resulting mistakes added to the fun. Once again, the worshippers exited the chapel with laughter and smiles.
As delightful as it was, Lizzy had a hard time relaxing and was anxious to return to the manor. She worried that Alexander may need her, although it was unlikely as he had eaten well and it was less than two hours since departing. To her faint dismay the pleasant weather meant that folks lingered in the modest courtyard, all desirous to congratulate their Master and Mistress on their son. Darcy, unlike years past, was reveling in the praise. His smile was barely contained behind the usual mask of reserved supremacy, lending him an approachable air perceived by all and, to Lizzy’s veiled chagrin, acted upon by every last one of them! Yet despite her worries, they made it safely back to Pemberley before the baby woke.
Opening of the presents necessarily had to wait until Alexander was fed. Then it would take the greater bulk of the afternoon to complete due to the massive quantity of gifts and frequent interruptions. Lord and Lady Matlock arrived shortly after noon with enough wrapped packages to fill the space created by those already opened. Then, approximately an hour and a half later, it was the Bingley carriages.
The cacophony of voices and laughter was overwhelming at times. The ample parlor filled to standing room only, even with additional settees and chairs hastily provided. Any attempt at order was ludicrous. Lord Matlock trapped Mr. Bennet, Mr. Gardiner, and Dr. Darcy, the older gentlemen retreating to a far corner for relatively sedate conversation. Mr. Hurst made a beeline to the liquor cabinet and rarely wandered more than a few feet from it throughout the entire afternoon. Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst sat apart, gazing down their noses at the rowdy Bennets and Gardiners, feeling superior and unaware that Lady Annabella Montgomery was wrinkling her nose at them.
Lizzy had handed the baby to Darcy when Mr. Taylor announced the arrival of the Bingleys, Darcy now happily encumbered in a chair away from the fray. Alexander was awake in Darcy’s lap, his chubby body erupting with newborn wiggles at the silly faces created by his father and the tickles delivered.