“Once again you are underestimating Georgiana. The affair with Wickham wounded her more than I think you know. But it also taught her valuable lessons and matured her in ways not so easily discernable. Oh, do not frown! I think at this point Georgie would be hard pressed to recollect what Wickham even looked like, so her scars are well healed. But the education runs deep. She will not make that mistake again, I can promise you that.”

She transferred Alexander to her shoulder for his mid-meal burping. Clearly he was not satiated, his eyes and mouth wide open as he submitted to the necessary pause. Darcy brought his face to the infant’s level, instantly and unconsciously creating silly expressions that elicited a sunny smile and moist coo. Darcy still held onto the chubby hand, bestowing kisses and gentle bites.

Lizzy smoothly moved him to her left breast, the feeding recommencing swiftly. Darcy nestled his chin on her shoulder, eyes locked on his nursing son and fingers playing with the mass of springy brown curls. Lizzy continued the conversation as if never interrupted.

“Furthermore, Georgiana, for all her grace and maturity this past year, is young. It isn’t that I believe it impossible for her to meet the one intended for her and fall in love. I just think it so unlikely as to be nearly impossible.”

“Considering you undoubtedly comprehend the inner meditations of my sister more than I do, I shall accept that assessment. However, I am curious as to how you can be so certain.”

“Georgiana has dreams, William. Aspirations. Nothing grand or scandalous, of course. But she wants to enjoy life, travel, and study her music before settling into the routines of domesticity. She talks so often about going abroad, as you know. What I do not think you understand is how vital that is to her. It is precisely because of what Wickham did to her, her extreme foolishness and residuals of guilt over disappointing you, that makes it imperative that she not be hasty.”

“But, I never—” he growled, Lizzy stopping his automatic rebuttal with fingertips pressed to his lips.

“Don’t say it, love. She knows how you feel. But allow her to hold on to her emotions and the results. Georgiana is wise enough to perceive that she is not wise! If that makes sense.”

“No,” he retorted sulkily, Lizzy laughing.

“She accepts her limitations, if you will. She is well aware that her experiences are few, that her exposure to the opposite sex is minute and skewed. She refuses to be made a fool of ever again, yet is wise enough to know that it could easily happen due to her naïveté. She sees these events—Almack’s, the opera, the ball we shall host, the upcoming summer at Stevenage—as ways to improve her social skills, grow stronger in her convictions, and learn more about life. Your sister is a scholar just like you, my dearest.” She kissed the top of his head, Darcy then lifting from his perch on her shoulder to meet her eyes. Lizzy smiled, stroking through his thick hair. “She has vowed only to marry when she can find that one man who will respect her as a near equal and love her unconditionally. You have taught her that, Fitzwilliam. In the meantime, unlike another Darcy whom I love and adore, she intends to have fun with the dancing and, yes, even the flirting! So be prepared.”

“I think it shall kill me,” he muttered seriously, and then grinned, his voice dropping into a husky timbre. “I do believe this is all too much for me. I need comfort and tender loving from my wife to cope with the stress.”

“You know we have an appointment in less than two hours and have yet to begin dressing. Comforting shall have to wait.”

“Some comforting can be accomplished in short order if necessary,” he retorted, reaching to lift her skirts and commence stroking upward over her bare thigh.

“You are incorrigible,” she replied, batting his hand away.

Darcy immediately returned to her leg, adding kisses along her collarbone. “I warned you not to forget my past distress while searching for you, Mrs. Darcy. Your poor husband, who searched for ages while you flittered about the fields of Hertfordshire like a fairy creature delighting in the torment of mortal lovers transfixed by desire, needs to be reassured the wood nymph is his forever.”

“Reading Shakespeare again, are we? Spare me the dramatic pathos. You are most assuredly a man who is not suffering from lack of affection.” She again batted his seeking hand away, playfully, affecting a severe expression. Darcy chuckled, leaning back into the sofa with hands on his lap and momentarily limiting himself to sensual kisses planted over her bared left shoulder.

Alexander finally attained his stomach’s capacity and was handed off to his father for final burping and cuddling. The ritual had not changed in the months since his birth. The big difference now was that he often stayed awake for long periods of time after eating rather than instantly falling into a deep sleep. It was wonderful for Darcy, who still strived to be available for as many meal times as he could manage. As the weeks passed and his son grew with a personality that steadily emerged, Darcy began to rethink his priorities. At Pemberley, where life moved at a slower pace, his hours spent in play and cuddling his son were considerable. However, since traveling away from the homey environs to Kent and Hertfordshire, where dozens of family members reside, and especially since arriving in London, where there were the intense demands upon his time, his availability when Alexander was awake and not being adored by a relative was abbreviated.

The only part of the equation he could control was how he spent his time and this was a gradually dawning realization over those weeks in London.

Always, even as he lamented the numerous business affairs that kept him away from Elizabeth for long hours or weeks when he traveled, he hungered for the stimulation and excitement that commerce provided. The drive to be integrally involved in his estate’s running as well as the constantly evolving aspects of industry and politics were too deeply ingrained to be denied. Additionally, he craved physical exercise that required hours at Angelo’s fencing or on his horse. He needed the male socialization with his peers at the Jockey Club or White’s.

He wisely recognized that being a husband and father did not erase those parts of his life that had ruled for some thirty years, and that fulfilling those fundamental desires kept him balanced and thus a better husband and father. But he also recognized that a portion of his aggressive motivation was a result of the loneliness and emptiness to his life prior to finding Elizabeth. With those holes filled, the urgency for action was not as keen.

Therefore, he started to consider ways to scale his diversities into something more manageable. So far it involved nothing concrete beyond talking to Mr. Daniels, his solicitor, about the best way to consolidate his holdings and streamline matters so his constant attention would not be as vital. It was too soon to see any benefit or make permanent decisions, but he was already surprised at how just broaching the idea eased the burdens weighing upon his heart. He could now hold Alexander and know that as time marched on he would be the kind of father he wanted to be to his children.

Elizabeth rose, moving about the chamber and straightening scattered belongings while Darcy played with the baby. He smiled, kissing the round cheeks and sweet lips, and nuzzling into the squat neck with blowing noises. Alexander arched and wiggled happily, released giggles and babbling vocalizations, and reached purposefully toward his father’s face and hair.

Darcy felt that it was only fair for Alexander to be blessed with his wife’s thick ringlets since he was burdened with his father’s nose, a partial jest that Lizzy persisted in countering. The infant’s face had lost all traces of his mother’s features, settling into an infantile replica of his father. Of course, the truth was that Darcy thought his child the most handsome infant alive and was immeasurably proud of the pronounced resemblance, even with the prominent nose.

“Here, sweet, your rattle.” Darcy repositioned the baby so that he was sitting on his lap and reached into the basket of toys kept by the sofa. He handed Alexander a colorfully painted dried gourd with a slim wooden handle, one of a half dozen rattles in the basket. Alexander instantly grabbed onto the toy and swung the round bulb toward his widely opened mouth. His aim was not the best, the hard object knocking into his nose and causing him to emit a high squeal. He was not to be deterred, however, the rattle again repositioned and the attempt to gnaw on the too-large toy upsetting him far more than the crash into his nose.

“You are supposed to shake it, thusly, Son,” Darcy instructed, clasping the fat rattle-wielding wrist and moving it to demonstrate. Alexander watched, fascinated, joyfully bouncing his limbs and laughing, but as soon as Darcy released his wrist the rattle was again drawn toward the yawning mouth. “Everything into the mouth with you. Crazy boy,” he said affectionately.

“He likes to eat,” Lizzy said. “I have no idea where he gets that desire from.” She winked at her spouse, Darcy merely grinning. “However, at this point in time I think it is because he is trying to cut his first teeth.”

“Truly? How do you know?”

“Feel his lower gum,” she said, picking up two envelopes off the desk and walking back toward the sofa while Darcy did as told.

“I feel hard ridges. Let papa see, Alexander. Now you can open your mouth. Oh, be still, you will get the rattle back in a moment. It looks a bit red, Elizabeth. Will it cause him pain?”

“It can, so I understand. But Mrs. Hanford has a salve that helps. George knew of a formula as well and concocted a liquid that will help if he is uncomfortable. So far he seems unperturbed other than needing to chew on everything in sight. This is also normal, so I am told. Perhaps this smaller rattle that can fit into his mouth will please him.” She retrieved a round, disc-shaped silver rattle filled with beads, one side cut out for small hands to grip. Instantly the gourd was discarded for the new, shiny toy. After a few satisfying shakes, the rattle unerringly entered his mouth for serious chewing, Alexander gibbering happily.

Darcy squeezed him tightly and delivered a kiss to the top of his head. “Better now? Cool, hard metal does the trick, yes? I presume teeth are why he has been drooling so copiously lately?” He turned to his wife with raised brow.

“I believe so. Just when Samuel breathes in relief over the absence of regurgitated milk he must contend with saliva stains.”

“He will learn to deal with it,” Darcy answered with a laugh.

“I have not had the opportunity to share the post with you, what with you distracted with traumatic visions of Georgiana eloping in the darkest hours of the night.”

“Hysterical. Is there no end to the misery inflicted upon me by the women in my life?”

“Perhaps this may help, or perhaps not.” She waved the envelopes. “One should cheer you although the other will likely educe a groan. Which first?”

“I need cheering, especially since my wife has chosen to deny my fervid need for succoring.” He replied with a grin.

“Very well then,” she answered, ignoring his remark. “We received a letter from Anne. That is, Mrs. Raul Penaflor Aleman de Vigo, as she made sure to sign it.”

“Are they not still in Bath?”

“Yes.”

“She is writing letters on her honeymoon?” Darcy shook his head in mock shock, opening the parchment paper handed to him by Lizzy as she sat down beside. “What is wrong with that man? Anne should be far too busy to pen a letter.”

“Just because you kept your new wife locked within the bedchamber for several weeks does not mean every gentleman does so. Bath is lovely, so I am told.”

“I do not recall you arguing the treatment. In fact, I seem to remember an abundance of satisfied expressions,” he said with a leer and arched brow.

Lizzy reddened slightly but laughed. “Just read the letter. You will note that it is not a long letter, so perhaps Dr. Penaflor is not so disappointing in your estimation after all.”

“Good for Anne,” he murmured, unconsciously bouncing the leg Alexander sat on as he began to read. The baby, of course, immediately forgot the rattle and opted to make a grab for the pretty fluttering paper. Darcy held it away, shushing and absently redirecting the silver chew toy back into the infant’s mouth as he continued to read. Alexander, however, chose that moment to notice his feet, dropping the rattle in a concentrated effort to secure the strange, wiggling objects and bring them to his mouth.