“Mr. Darcy, my daughter appears well. Quite well, in fact. I want to thank you for your constant correspondence during her illness. I am sure it must not have been easy for you to take the time.”
“You are welcome, sir. Nothing about that episode was easy, but it is behind us now and she has nearly fully recovered.” Mr. Bennet detected the note of strain in the younger man's voice and the hint of residual pain in his eyes despite Darcy's careful regulation. He smiled. Any doubts he may have had initially of Darcy's affection toward Lizzy had been dispelled within a week of their betrothal. He further saw the evidence of the deep love that had grown between the two already in the glances shared as they made their way into the parlor.
“She is more beautiful than I remember her,” Mr. Bennet continued. “I would not guess her needing to recover any further. She positively glows. Your doing, I am certain.” He glanced slyly at Darcy, who looked at him sharply.
“Whatever do you mean, sir?”
“Calm down, my boy. Any secrets you two have are safe with me for the present. I merely was referring to the flush on her cheeks, the radiant happiness she exudes, and the serenity about her. I am familiar with the pose from Jane, but never Lizzy.” He clapped Darcy on the back as he moved away, “You have made this old gentleman's heart shine, and I thank you.”
Darcy stood there wondering as Mr. Bennet strolled to greet his other son-in-law, catching Lizzy's eyes from across the room. She raised an eyebrow in question with a subtle nod toward her father. He shrugged imperceptibly. Mr. Bennet was far too astute for his own good.
As usual in these family gatherings, Darcy tended to retreat to quiet corners as often as possible. Lizzy and Jane were in the center of a female cluster, all the women seemingly talking at once, Darcy amazed that any of them could distinguish a word the other said. Even his normally bashful sister was caught up in the enthusiasm, which educed a pleased smile.
Dinner was announced; Darcy escorted his wife and sister and was happily ensconced between Lizzy and Mr. Bennet at the table. Conversation flowed in the rather jumbled manner that Darcy associated with the Bennets. Gradually, he had familiarized his sensibilities to what society would universally deem a hideous breach in dining etiquette, seeing beyond the outrageousness of it to recognize the relaxed harmony. It was not comfortable for him, decades of protocol hindering full involvement, but he appreciated it.
He and Lizzy touched clandestinely under the table whenever possible, sparking humorous memories of stolen caresses at this very table during their engagement. Leaning over at one point, Darcy whispered in her ear, “When do you wish to announce our news, beloved?”
She graced him with a beatific smile and a squeeze to his knee. “After dessert, otherwise the entire meal will be delayed.”
By the time the dessert course was served, Darcy was ready to erupt with impatience. Standing suddenly and thereby instantly commanding the attention of all at the table without uttering a word, Darcy cleared his throat. Glancing at his beaming wife, he grasped her hand then addressed the staring group. Only Georgiana knew what was to be declared, and she was grinning.
“Pardon me for the interruption. Elizabeth and I have an announcement that we no longer wish to delay in imparting. We have suspected for some weeks now but have just two days ago had it confirmed.” He paused dramatically, rather enjoying the varying expressions of curiosity, dawning enlightenment, and frank bafflement that graced the features around the table. Lizzy began to giggle under her breath, knowing her staid husband's flair for the theatric. Smiling, he resumed, “Elizabeth's accident created a scare for us, but we now are certain, so can state with confidence, that we will be, roughly sometime in early December, welcoming our first child.”
He kissed her hand as everyone lurched to their feet to converge on the jubilant couple. Darcy's hand was pumped and his back was slapped; Lizzy was hugged and kissed. The party gradually retired to the parlor where Lizzy was plied with questions and baby plans were set in motion. Meanwhile, the gentlemen retreated from the female twittering to celebrate and congratulate the father-to-be with glasses of Bingley's finest port.
As always, Darcy's gaze frequently alit on his wife. Therefore, he readily interpreted her mildly increasing pallor and weakening smile as a sign of fatigue. With alacrity, he weaved his way to her side, smoothly extracting her from the clutches of her family with apologies. Once outside the room, he swept her into his arms, ignoring her protests.
“Darling, I am merely tired not incapacitated!”
“Do not argue with me, Mrs. Darcy. Have you not deduced that I simply create reasons to hold you in my embrace?”
“Oh, is that what you are doing?” she asked, laughing.
“Of course.” He kissed her forehead then grinned. “I figure I better take advantage of the opportunities before you are so rotund that I cannot pick you up.”
The five days they tarried in Hertfordshire were filled with a vast number of visitations and numerous memories.
Sir William Lucas and his wife, Lady Lucas, hosted a dinner party at Lucas Lodge the second evening after the Darcy's arrival. A generous portion of the four and twenty families of distinction attended. Darcy had met most of them at various events during the time of his previous stays in the region, although the impression he had made on the bulk of them had not been favorable. With the exception of the various young ladies in residence, who had overlooked his reserve in recognition of his wealth and position, many of them had simply abandoned any attempt at ingratiation, finding him aloof and impossible to become acquainted with. During his engagement, Darcy had pointedly striven to rectify the damage done and had largely succeeded, except for the previously mentioned young women who then had no interest in him whatsoever.
Nonetheless, aside from Mr. Bingley and Mr. Bennet, not a single man could claim to know him even moderately. In truth, Darcy could care less. Never a man to make friends with ease or to have an abundance of confidants, Darcy saw no point in endeavoring to form relationships in Hertfordshire. This honest assessment had disturbed him only in that he wished to please his fiancée. He had assumed that she, sociable and popular as she was, would desire him to be the same. He was in error. The agony he had suffered over those initial weeks of forced gregariousness had taken their toll on him, Elizabeth noting his constant tension, increased fidgeting, and loss of appetite. In another one of their forthright conversations, she had bluntly confronted him over his obvious distress. He evaded, fearful of her disappointment, but in the end she drew it out of him. With a multitude of assurances, dangerous kisses, and embraces, she finally convinced him that she loved him as he was and that it mattered naught what the people of Hertfordshire thought.
His relief had been palpable. Now, all these months later, confident in his marriage and the mutual admiration he and Elizabeth shared, not to mention his unrelenting joy, Darcy discovered that there were actually several men he rather liked. Bingley, a walking example of congeniality, had readily made friends with nearly every man his age for miles around. The newly relaxed Mr. Darcy rapidly saw his social calendar filled with shooting, horseback riding, a billiard tournament, a turn at the faro tables, and luncheon twice.
Lizzy was delighted to see her husband busily entertained. Knowing that he was happily enjoying himself with Charles and the rest at the various male pursuits he had neglected over the past months gave her the freedom to devote her time elsewhere. Most afternoons were passed at someone's house for tea, Lizzy utilizing the time to renew old friendships. However, her main purpose in visiting home was to be with her family. In a strange turn of events, Darcy became the social butterfly flittering hither and yon, while Lizzy rarely left Longbourn or Netherfield.