“As anxious as I am to hold our infant I believe I shall miss this.” He spoke softly, palms moving steadily on her stomach.
“As virile and amorous as you are, my love, I suspect the swollen belly will reappear frequently. I visualize Pemberley cluttered with rambunctious little Darcys.”
He smiled, truly delighted at the vision and refusing to dwell on the risks of numerous births. A final walk along the beach by moonlight, Lizzy even convincing Darcy to remove his shoes and feel the cold water lap at bare ankles, was the culmination to their outdoor activities. The crowning touch was discovered when they returned to their room. Per Lizzy's instructions, servants had fashioned a makeshift picnic tableau on the chamber floor before the open balcony. Privacy was not assured on the balcony itself; other rooms situated without direct visual contact, but open windows too close for complete comfort. A thick blanket was spread with several large pillows, a platter of fruit and pastries, mulled wine in clay mugs, and two candelabras for illumination sat waiting. A low fire burned as the evenings were increasingly cool.
Darcy grinned happily at his smugly beaming wife, wordlessly taking her hand and leading to the blanket. Passionate lovemaking was the ultimate crescendo, but only after prolonged intimate conversation, frolicking, cuddling, feeding each other, and titillating foreplay.
The ancestral home of the Lathrops, Stonecrest Hall, was located roughly five miles northeast of Melton Mowbray. The modest home of grey bricks sat in a shallow dell amongst a dense forest of ancient oaks and was surrounded by a broad expanse of compact grass and clover. There was a natural essence to the property, much as Hasberry possessed, which was relaxing and homey if not as grand as the formality and cultivation of Pemberley. Beyond the house proper were the extensive barns and fields amid the oaks where the cows and bulls roamed. The wealth of the Lathrop family was partially from the cattle market but primarily from dairy products, the cheeses produced considered some of the best in the country.
The Darcys arrived late in the afternoon, having decided to travel straight through from Caister. Lizzy was tired and her back ached, but the physical discomforts were offset by her excitement. Mr. Lathrop greeted them warmly, informing Lizzy that Amelia was with the baby. With a kind smile of complete understanding he directed a waiting maid to escort Mrs. Darcy to the nursery after the briefest of welcomes. The men chuckled once she was away, Stephen leading Darcy to the parlor for a much needed brandy.
Amelia was rocking and nursing her daughter when Lizzy was admitted. Kisses of true delight were shared while the baby obliviously fed on, eyes closed and tiny mouth working diligently. One delicate fist lay atop Amelia's breast, minute fingers kneading. Tears welled in Lizzy's eyes at the sight. Several of her friends, both in Hertfordshire and in Derbyshire, had children, but she had never witnessed a scene so intimately maternal. Her heart gave a massive lurch, one hand instinctively caressing her belly as she gingerly touched Fiona's downy cheek.
“Oh, Amelia, she is absolutely beautiful! How small she is! Oh…” Her voice caught and she swiped at her tears. Amelia was radiant, as all proud mothers are. Lizzy peered closely at her friend's face. “You look amazing, my dear friend. Are you fully recovered from the ordeal?”
Lizzy sat on a nearby stool, hands massaging her back while Amelia answered with a laugh. “Nearly. My bum still hurts and I am a wee bit sleep deprived, but it is a joy not to be carrying the extra weight!” Lizzy laughed, nodding as she rubbed aching muscles.
The following hour was spent in sweet companionship, both women sharing tales of motherhood. Amelia, in the forthright manner that she possessed, imparted detailed information of her labor and birth, Lizzy paling frequently but absorbing each point. Amelia commiserated with Lizzy's current travails, thankful that they were minor. She, too, had been blessed with a relatively easy pregnancy, but a certain number of aches and pains were universal. Fiona finished her meal, falling into the drugged sleep typical of the satisfied newborn. Amelia insisted Lizzy hold the slumbering infant while she freshened up for their guests, Lizzy not requiring too much persuasion.
Lizzy had held a few small babies in her life, but not since becoming a wife and soon-to-be mother. The rush of emotions was overwhelming. For the first time she experienced an intense urgency to hurry through the incubation process so she could gaze upon their son, as her prescient dream so many months prior had planted the assurance, and nestle him to her breast. For several minutes it was as if her spirit soared with an uncontainable need to flee this place for Pemberley, for home, where the focus would all be on final preparations for their child. The hunger to lay eyes on the nursery and all the waiting infant items was nearly painful and a sob caught in her throat.
Then Fiona stretched, releasing a weak gurgle as pink lips pursed and sucked on an imaginary nipple. Her eyes fluttered open briefly, a flash of greenish-blue before closing in renewed sleep. Lizzy smiled, stroking the soft cheek, and bending to smell the fresh fragrance that all newborns emanate. Her baby delivered a grouping of lazy kicks, as if to remind his mother of his viability and equal eagerness to be known. Lizzy chuckled under her breath, rubbing over his prodding limb. “Do not fret, my sweet, I love you best and will wait patiently.”
The women joined the reclining men in the parlor. Amelia held the baby, Darcy's eyes instantly alighting on the swaddled bundle. Lizzy recalled with a smile that her husband had never actually beheld a very young infant. His careful regulation was slipping rapidly as they approached. The gentlemen rose, Stephen quickly crossing to assist his still sore wife to a comfortable chair. Lizzy squeezed Darcy's arm, eyes meeting with tender communication before he turned his gaze back to Amelia and the baby.
“Mrs. Lathrop, you appear well. Congratulations on your blessing.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I am quite well, all considered. Now sit down and relax. My arms are frankly aching. Dearest,” she looked to her husband with a wink, “perhaps you can assist me? Mr. Darcy, could I trouble you to hold the baby while my husband fetches Elizabeth and me some tea? Elizabeth, could you be a dear and plump up this pillow for me?”
With smoothly manipulated orders, Amelia fulfilled Darcy's wish without him needing to ask, which he likely would never have had the nerve to do. Fairly before he could take a breath, he found his arms blissfully encumbered with the blanketed, softly squirming baby. He sat stiffly, afraid to move an inch or even breathe lest he disturb the peaceful bundle or, heaven forbid, drop her. Heart pounding and inhaling shallowly, Darcy studied the diminutive life form in his rigid arms. She was so small! Every feature dainty in the extreme, wisps of pale hair, cheeks so round and pink, and incredibly light. Gradually he relaxed, sinking comfortably into the sofa and cuddling her close to his chest.
It was absolutely amazing. Never had he seen anything so tiny. Still, she seemed too large to actually reside inside another human being and with a sudden flash of insight he completely understood his wife's aches and complaints as their son intruded on internal organs and placed stress on muscles. Lizzy joined him on the sofa, reaching to gently pull the blanket away from Fiona's chest to unveil a petite hand.