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George glanced up at Darcy's grinning face. “Could you? This is by far the most comfortable chair I have ever sat in. Perfect for my frame.”

“Precisely why I ordered it made to my dimensions six years ago. I was tired of being cramped into uncomfortable creations of hard wood and sharp edges.” He sat in the opposite smaller albeit exquisite wing back Chippendale, folding his hands and closely examining the expression on George's face. “I am positive something could be arranged.”

George smiled with genuine delight, moving his feet to clear space on the ottoman. “Take a load off, my boy. There is plenty of room.”

“Thanks all the same, but I do not fancy assuming such a pose outside of the privacy of my chambers.”

George laughed aloud, nearly snorting, and shook his head. “Oh William! You are such a treasure!”

“How fortuitous that you think so, and you have offered the perfect segue into what I came to speak to you about.”

George lifted a brow. “Really! How serious you are, Mr. Darcy. Should I throw down a belt of whiskey to prepare myself?”

“If you believe it would bolster your fortitude, then by all means belt away. Just bring me one as well.”

George laughed, rising and crossing to the small sidebar to pour them each a glass of fine Irish scotch. “So what has you seeking me out when you could be with your beautiful wife and adorable baby?”

“A topic that greatly concerns them, as a matter of fact. Thank you.” He took a sip, waiting until George was settled before launching forth. With penetrating gaze fixed and tone sober, he began. “Uncle, you know that Elizabeth and I adore you. You and I have talked extensively about our kinship, so there is no need to reiterate our mutual accord. However, I think we have both shied away from verbalizing our feelings. My wife has encouraged me to tell you of the depth of my sentiments.” He grimaced slightly then shrugged. “Women are far more effusive in vocalizing their emotions, but in this instance I suppose she is correct.”

He crossed his legs and inhaled deeply, opening his mouth to commence, but was halted at George's chuckle.

“Let me spare you any emasculation, William. I love you and you love me. You have become the son I never had and I have to a degree arrogated the role James rightfully deserves. There, it is out in the open. Feel better now?”

Darcy smiled wryly. “Immeasurably. Elizabeth will be so pleased.” He sipped his drink before continuing. “Very well then. All that being clarified, we have an important request to make of you. A requisite preface is forthcoming, though, so be warned. Apparently I can be long-winded at times, as a dear friend recently pointed out.”

“I never have noticed,” George murmured with a perfectly straight face.

Darcy ignored him. “Uncle, you are welcome to dwell at Pemberley for as long as you choose, for the rest of your life if that is your desire. I do hope you know that.” George nodded, frowning slightly in confusion. “I have not asked your plans and we have tried not to sway you in any way as it is ultimately your decision. However, I need to tell you in the clearest words imaginable that the heartfelt wish of us all is that you would chose to reside here forever. Simply put, I do not want lose you. Forgive the cloying sentimentalism, but that is the truth.”

George was momentarily speechless, swallowing and inhaling deeply to calm the abrupt rush of emotions. He nodded finally, voice soft when he spoke, “Thank you, William. You have no idea how I appreciate that, and since we are being forthright then let me say something.” He leaned forward, bony elbows on his knees as he met Darcy's piercing gaze with an identical one. “I have purposely been evasive because… well, I guess I needed to hear you say what you just did. I have been gone for a very long time. When I left, my father was Master of Pemberley and I never questioned my reception if I chose to return. With James it was much the same, although I never considered the idea. I think I undertook this journey home with a latent desire to stay, but refused to acknowledge it because I had no clue what my greeting would be. So much had changed and the Pemberley that was my childhood home was no longer the ready refuge it had always been.”

“But it is,” Darcy declared firmly.

“Yes, I know that now.” He sighed, sitting back into the soothing shelter of the enormous chair and smiling fondly at his nephew. “I love India and know it will forever be a part of who I am. But I have missed England and Derbyshire. I have missed family, my family. Jharna's death brought that world to an end for me and made me realize fully how adrift I was. I need to be here, William. I want to be here, so with your blessing I will accept your offer.” He grinned, lightening the solemn mood as usual with a joke. “You can even banish me to the north wing or one of the servant's houses if I become annoying.”

Darcy's lips twitched, but he shook his head and held a steady stare, intoning gravely, “I am afraid I cannot allow that, Uncle. After all, my son needs to have his namesake and, if you are so willing, his godfather near at hand.”

George's mouth dropped open and eyes widened in amazement. Darcy laughed aloud, lifting his glass in salute. “To Alexander and his godfather. Lord help us all!”

Gradually Lizzy returned to her duties as her energy was restored, but always with Alexander either accompanying her or Mrs. Hanford aware of her location. Since she primarily worked from her desk in Darcy's study or their sitting room, she was easy to find. The Indian silks gifted by Dr. Darcy were perfectly utilized as slings to hold Alexander against his mother's chest while he slept, enabling Lizzy to carry him easily and have her hands free. She looked ridiculous, and would never appear in public so adorned, but for meandering about the manor it was ideal.

Mrs. Reynolds had all the Christmas plans in hand, Lizzy only required to assist minimally and proffer input. They discussed the packages for the tenant families, the staff and tenant feast, any additional gifts Lizzy wanted purchased, the menu, and a few other incidentals. There truly was very little for her to address, Lizzy abundantly thankful as she vastly preferred devoting all attention to her precious baby.

Physically she rejuvenated rapidly. The occasionally intense cramps, a result so George informed her, of her womb returning to a pre-pregnant condition lessened daily and were gone by the end of the second week. She did nap most every day with Alexander snuggled against her breast after nursing primarily because it was so wonderfully joyous to do so. Her weariness was essentially gone within days to be replaced by the vigor of youth. The tenderness to her bottom persisted for quite a while, as did the scant discharge from her feminine area, but that too receded. She adjusted to some of the changes in her body: the large and cumbersome breasts that leaked milk frequently, and the wider hips that required several chemises to be altered. More problematic, from an egotistical standpoint, was the extra flesh over her abdomen.

Eventually this would disappear, Lizzy as svelte as always, but since this was a future development, she lamented this alteration to her physique. Logically she knew that her expectations were presumptuous and apprehensions irrational. Her emotions were perhaps minutely a result of personal vanity, but primarily were for her husband. This too she rationally knew to be absurd as Darcy had proven time and again that his love and desire for her was not dependent on her shape. Nonetheless, her unease and embarrassment continued, Lizzy thankful that for now her moderately pendulous belly was hidden from view under a corset and gown.

“Enter,” Darcy declared in response to the knock on his study door. The minor quantity of business that arose during the winter months had accumulated in a pile on his desk over the past week and a half, Darcy finally taking the precious time away from his wife and son to execute his duty as the Master of Pemberley. As important as the tedious issues were, he nevertheless was thrilled to see his wife and son cross the threshold.