The shop they entered, tiny bells tinkling at the door, was a store recommended by Harriet Vernor that specialized in infant and child accouterments, furnishings, and clothing. Meryton had a similar establishment—although substantially smaller—that Lizzy had frequented on occasion for friends, so she was not completely unfamiliar with the merchandise and atmosphere.

Darcy, however, had never in all his life stepped foot into such a place. The instant inundation with paraphernalia exclusively infantine was overwhelming. His heart constricted at the plethora of miniature garments and accessories. The air even smelled like a baby, or at least it seemed so to Darcy, although in truth he had only a vague seventeen-year-old memory of what a baby smelled like—except for foals, which had a freshness about them that was reminiscent to what he scented now. Tears sprang to his eyes and he cleared his throat gruffly, turning aside to finger the first item nearby: a spun-cotton-stuffed toy hound dog.

Lizzy had begun speaking to the proprietress, a Mrs. Higgins, explaining that she was expecting her first child and essentially needed everything.

“William?” she called to her husband. “Mrs. Higgins will assist us with our requirements. We are certainly not the first new parents to enter her shoppe!”

Darcy stepped forward as she spoke. He had taken control of his emotions, the Darcy mask of rigid calm and aloofness firmly in place. He bowed, and said haltingly with studied restraint, “Mrs. Higgins. We thank you for your time and patience. We will need everything, as Mrs. Darcy revealed. Cost is not an issue, and I insist on the best.”

“Mr. Darcy?” the store owner asked with awe. “I did not realize… well, naturally I will do all to help. Allow me a moment to call my assistant.” She bobbed and departed to a back room hastily.

Lizzy was frowning at him, crossing to where he stood with a concerned gaze. Laying a hand on his arm, she asked, “William, are you well? You seem so… uncomfortable. If you do not wish to be here, you need only say so. I will understand.” Her voice caught, but she tried to assure him with a weak smile.

Darcy's face fell, the mask instantly slipping as he grasped her hand. “No, beloved! There is nowhere else on earth I would rather be than here. I was merely… overcome for a moment. Please forgive me.” He kissed her forehead and she smiled brilliantly in relief.

He straightened stiffly when Mrs. Higgins returned, accompanied by a young woman introduced as Christina. For the next three hours, they closely examined every square inch of the store and many items pulled from the storage rooms. Darcy was not at all jesting when he said cost was not an issue, refusing several products that did not appear adequately constructed or were too plain. Gradually, Mrs. Higgins came to understand the truth of his assertions, and cognizant of the reputed Darcy wealth, she retrieved certain articles of extreme elegance and extravagance kept stashed away for just such special customers.

Therefore, they eventually exited having spent, to Lizzy's way of thinking, an obscene amount of money. Any attempts on her part to insert rationality or frugalness into the discussions garnered the infamous Darcy glare with brow creases deep and eyes flashing, so she relented. Along with the fundamentals, such as thick diapering cloths, pins, linens, towels, bathing essentials, and the like, they also purchased a few clothes and blankets. Most of their son's garments Lizzy wished to make herself, as well as the cradle blankets and cushions, fabrics to be obtained at the drapers.

Darcy was intently interested in each item, especially those things unique or revolutionary. Lizzy smiled at this, remembering with clarity all the remarkable gadgets he had acquired for her birthday. He was spellbound by the colorful mobile and purchased three of them, “for variety and to stimulate our son's intellect,” he said.

Equally amazing to him were the perambulators. He examined them thoroughly, pressing on them and driving them about the room. He frowned with a look of deep concentration, fingers flicking in a manner Lizzy was very familiar with. “It is like a miniature carriage,” he mused to himself. “If springs were placed here and here, it would have more bounce and ride smoother. The wheels could be sturdier to withstand the gravel paths around Pemberley. Hmmm…” He rubbed his chin. Lizzy watched him with admiration, Mrs. Higgins clearly confused.

Darcy continued, peering at his wife with a grin, “I think I, with Mr. Clark's assistance, could fashion improvements, Elizabeth, so the ride would be comfortable for him and you could walk far afield as you desire without safety concerns. Or better yet, the groom Stan! You remember him?” Lizzy nodded, smiling at the enthusiasm which led to him relaxing his formal pose. “He is a wizard with mechanical devices, always fixing the carriages and fountain pumps and anything else, usually ameliorating them in the process. Do you have one of these with natural tan leather for the canopy?” He asked suddenly of Mrs. Higgins, startling her.

“Y-Yes, Mr. Darcy, we do, although the black is in style now.”

He waved his hand, interrupting her. “That is inconsequential. Lighter colors block the sun.”

Next were the baby slings, new contraptions that carried a baby close to one's body while leaving the hands free. Both Lizzy and Darcy saw the advantage of this, although it was Lizzy who remembered the yards of Indian fabrics Dr. Darcy had gifted and instantly deduced how she could fashion her own slings. Darcy laughed at the mental vision of his wife and son draped with garish Indian silks.

Completing the infant wares were a tightly woven basket carrier, a tiny brush of silver and fine horsehair, two oil paintings of pastel-hued floral arrangements, and the stuffed hound. All were to be bundled and shipped to Pemberley.

Darcy and Lizzy strolled arm in arm, content at the day's accomplishments. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was shining brightly, but a gentle breeze eased the heat. The plan was to visit the drapers, but Lizzy felt drained after so many hours of shopping and the heat sapping her strength. “Dearest, can we postpone the fabric store until tomorrow? Suddenly a walk through the park sounds appealing.”

When they returned to the inn after a leisurely hour under the old oaks of Darley Park, an invitation was waiting for dinner that evening with Sir Allen Griffin of Alveston Hall. An odd expression crossed Darcy's face, but before Lizzy could inquire, it had disappeared and he sighed.

“I was hoping to avoid any social engagements; however, we should accept this, beloved, if you feel up to it. Sir Griffin was a friend to my father and his brother was married to my Aunt Muriel, who, I am sure you recall, died when I was six. They had no children and he remarried years ago, but there remains a vague familial relationship.”

In truth, Lizzy much preferred to stay alone with her husband, but such social requirements were expected, and she would not shirk her responsibilities. Therefore, by seven that evening, the Darcy carriage had halted before the massive front doors of Alveston Hall. The butler greeted them formally, leading them to the parlor. Neither knew exactly what to anticipate as far as the guest list was concerned, although they both prayed it was not an elaborate social affair. Nonetheless, they were both taken aback to note only Sir Griffin, his wife Lady Griffin, the eldest son, Mr. Lawrence Griffin, and his wife Annabella, another son, Maurice with his wife, Sarah Beth, and his daughters, Edith and Amy Griffin.

Lizzy realized that she had indeed met Sir Griffin, his wife, and the eldest son and wife at the Cole's Masque. Frankly, many of the names and faces from that night had blurred over time, and she could not recall being introduced to the second son or either daughter. Sir Griffin greeted them both with a ready smile and honest delight.

“Mr. Darcy, thank you for accepting our sudden invitation. Please forgive the abruptness, but you have a terrible habit, my boy, of quitting town ere anyone knows you are here! Mrs. Darcy, how are you finding our quaint community?”

“What I have viewed thus far is lovely, Sir Griffin. Mr. Darcy and I strolled the park today and along the river after a bit of shopping; however, most of the region I have yet to survey.”

“Darcy, you must take your wife to the Cathedral and Allestree Park. A trip to Derby is not complete unless you do.”

Darcy nodded. “I planned as much, Sir Griffin. We intend to tarry for three days at the least, affording enough time.”

The remainder of the introductions commenced. Lady Griffin was pleasant if quiet. The sons were around Darcy's age, agreeable, and talkative like their father. Edith was the eldest daughter, perhaps two or three years younger than Darcy, and recently engaged to a Lord Ryan of Oxfordshire. The Darcys congratulated her as was appropriate, Edith obviously a Caroline Bingley type who was quite proud of herself for her conquest.

Amy was a year or so older than Lizzy, vivacious and incredibly beautiful. She eyed Lizzy with intense interest, an undercurrent of distaste in her greeting that Lizzy could not fathom initially. Darcy's greeting was stilted even for him, and Lizzy, who knew him so well, instantly sensed his discomfiture. It was confusing, but the mass of voices and activity allotted her no time to puzzle it out.

Dinner advanced without unusual incidence, amusing in fact, Lizzy entertained especially by Sir Griffin and his sons. They were animated and humorous, even the usual business discussions entertaining. Lizzy had culled a fair knowledge of animal husbandry and agriculture via the numerous, in-depth conversations with Darcy, startling all three gentlemen at her contribution to their exchange. Darcy, as typical, was sedate. He added the occasional commentary but generally ate in silence and delighted in his wife's effervescence.

The women, with the exception of the cheery and somewhat flirty Amy, said practically nothing. Amy, to Lizzy's annoyance and Darcy's disquiet, continually attempted to draw him into conversation. She sat diagonal to him, frequently asking him questions he was obliged to answer and referring to past events they apparently had mutually attended. Eventually, a stern glower from her father ended the worst of her inappropriate attention, Lizzy relieved for both herself and her husband, but also curious.

When the groups parted as propriety deemed mandatory, Lizzy rolled her eyes toward her husband, who hid his laugh with a kiss to her fingers. “Have fun, love,” he whispered wryly with a slight smile and arch of one brow.

The women settled on sofas, sipping tea and entering into the standard women's chat of local gossip, fashion, gardening, and other idle topics.

“Mrs. Darcy, I understand congratulations are in order,” Lady Griffin said politely, “you and Mr. Darcy are expecting, I believe?”

Lizzy smiled, nodding as she agreed. “Yes, Lady Griffin, this is true and thank you. We are overjoyed.”

Annabella spoke dreamily, “I remember my first confinement. I have two children, Mrs. Darcy, the youngest only six months. It can be difficult at times, but the rewards are quite worth the sacrifice.”

“That is comforting. Thank you, Mrs. Griffin. I have been fortunate thus far so am hopeful it will continue.”

“Yes, you have been most fortunate, Mrs. Darcy,” Amy said with a faint sneer, “ensnaring the most eligible bachelor in Derbyshire, of cert. What was your secret? Do tell, so we can know how we failed.”

Lizzy was stunned and extremely uncomfortable, not sure if Miss Amy was jesting or alluding to something in particular.

Miss Griffin laughed and patted her sister's hand. “Still a sore loser, Amy? Forgive my sister, Mrs. Darcy. She, like many other young women, plotted to no avail. Mr. Darcy was a singularly tough nut to crack, until he found what he was searching for, obviously.” She smiled kindly and nodded toward Lizzy.

With a giddy, vapid laugh, Mrs. Griffin the younger chimed in, “Then he apparently proceeded with due haste! Quite the surprise, it was. One month he is courting our Amy and seemingly the next he is engaged to you!” She giggled, casting a pointed glance to Lizzy's midsection. “Apparently, he works quite fast in every way!”

Lizzy paled, suddenly feeling quite ill. With a triumphant smirk, Amy shrugged as if unconcerned. “Well, men too can be fickle. Who really knows what they are thinking, especially the quiet ones? Is that not true, Mrs. Darcy?”