Darcy was already at the door, Bingley trailing with a chuckle and privately wondering if he would be as giddy upon the arrival of his firstborn. Most likely, he thought with a smile.

Jane sat on a settee before the roaring fire with needlepoint in hand, talking softly as Lizzy completed burping Alexander from the pillowed comfort of a second settee while Georgiana reclined on the chaise with a forgotten book on her lap. The men joined the ladies, Darcy crossing instantly to his wife for a tender kiss and taking Alexander from her sore arms as he sat beside. General conversation ensued, Lizzy leaning gratefully against the solid strength of her husband's side. It was Darcy, sleeping baby cradled in his arms, who broached an important subject in his typical forthright manner of speaking.

“Charles, Jane.” They glanced over simultaneously, brows lifting slightly at the serious tone. “Elizabeth and I have a question of extreme magnitude to ask of you. It is essential you understand that we have given this a tremendous amount of consideration and are absolutely convinced of the wisdom in our choice. Although we would make every attempt to comprehend a negative response, it would be deeply distressing as we are confident in our judgment. We in no way want you to be obligated, however, if you feel just cause to decline.”

“Speak freely, Darcy, without the extended preamble!” Bingley interrupted with a laugh, turning to his wife with a sidelong glance at his friend. “Mr. Darcy could run for Parliament considering how long winded he can be at times.”

Lizzy chuckled from where she leaned on Darcy's shoulder, patting his arm. Darcy pressed his lips together, not angry but not as amused as the others in the room, continuing as if Bingley had not spoken, “Personality traits notwithstanding, Elizabeth and I wish to humbly request that the two of you consider accepting the position of godparents to our son.”

Jane smiled softly, eyes tearing as she gazed at her sister. She had wondered if they might choose her and Charles, although Lizzy had extended no hint of such, nor had Jane mentioned the speculation to anyone, not even her husband. It was more a conjecture based on hope. Still, as greatly as she had secretly wished to be given the esteemed role in her first nephew's life, she was deeply moved.

Charles was stunned and it showed in the comic wide-eyed slackness of his face. As close as he was to Darcy, and perhaps partially because of his intimacy with the morally reserved man, he naturally assumed the choice would be a near relative or even one of his lifelong Derbyshire friends. Bingley well knew Darcy's strong religious convictions. Conversely, he had not been raised as rigidly, his lackadaisical father more apt to sleep late on Sunday morning suffering from a massive post-drunkenness headache than escort his children to church. Faith-based tenets were taught tenuously at best throughout his youth, and only in later years in his desire to break away from the waywardness of his early existence did Bingley begin to attend services with any sort of regularity. What he had discovered was a fount of peace and stability that he embraced, but not to the great degree of Darcy.

Darcy was smiling affectionately at his young friend, insightfully clarifying in his quiet voice, “You see, my dear friend, being a godparent is not exclusively about teaching Alexander the specific doctrines and theological creeds. That is what the Church and pastors are for. It is more about being an example of those Biblical principles, living them out within sight of his immature mind, teaching as a model of what is virtuous and acceptable. You and Jane exemplify everything that Elizabeth and I want our son to be in life.”

“Of all the couples we know,” Lizzy added, “not only do you breathe integrity and love and faithfulness, but you truly love him. We know you always will. It is vital to us that Alexander grows knowing that his godparents are not merely accepting a tradition or honored obligation but are performing a duty out of devotion.”

Bingley glanced at his wife, throat tight as he swallowed the forming lump, their eyes meeting with instant communication. No hesitation or need to discuss the matter. “We would be honored, William, deeply honored,” he finally squeaked out. “Lizzy, thank you. Yes, absolutely we will stand with you before God and commit ourselves to Alexander.”

Charles and Jane departed two days later, but only because Darcy declared with obvious remorse that the innocuous-appearing clouds gathering over the distant Peaks portended a snowstorm. Jane peered at her brother-in-law with clear doubt at his assertion, but Bingley immediately began making plans to leave. Long association with his friend's uncanny ability to predict the Derbyshire weather, a talent he assumed was genetic, gave him no cause to pause.

The sisters said their adieus in the bedchamber while Darcy descended the stairs to spend the final hours with Charles in the billiard room. Jane held a sleeping Alexander, while Lizzy stretched a bit by pacing about the room.

“Jane, I cannot thank you enough for being here with me. I do hope I can return the favor when your time comes.”

“Absolutely! I will need you there most assuredly. However, it is I who should be thanking you, Lizzy. Now I know most clearly what to expect and can attend to my thoughts for the following months and bolster my mental strength.”

Lizzy laughed. “Knowing you, I doubt you will raise your voice even once, as I did, nor release a peep. Even worse, you shall probably have a four-hour travail and I shall never speak to you again!”

“If I am so fortunate, I think I could deal with never having you speak to me again,” Jane teased in her quiet voice, Lizzy laughing so loudly that Alexander started in his aunt's arms. She soothed him, resuming, “When do you plan to leave these rooms for the rest of the house? Your pacing is a plain indication of your restlessness.”

“Tomorrow. I intend to show Alexander the immediate rooms at the least, even if I have to barrel through William's body to do so! I cannot say I am ready to tackle too much, but these rooms are stifling me.” She sighed, sitting onto the edge of the sofa next to Jane, fingers automatically traveling over Alexander's satiny cheek. “I redecorated these rooms and they are lovely, but I already miss our bedchamber. It just… does not feel right somehow.” She smiled and shook her head, glancing to Jane with a faint blush. “I know I am being silly.”

“No you are not. Be patient, Lizzy. I do not think you can fully trust your emotions so soon after birth. You will know in your heart when it feels proper to move. William is here with you so it truly cannot matter all that much.”

“Thank you, Jane. Of course you are correct, and William says the same. I will miss you so very much! You and Charles must hurry back for a longer visit around Christmas, even if that means bringing the Hursts and Miss Bingley!”

The storm did strike late that evening, dropping four inches of powdery snow; nonetheless, it did not overly hinder the message that an heir to the Pemberley estate and fortune had been born. The news speedily disseminated throughout Derbyshire, the horrid weather not preventing gossip. The official announcements were not yet printed before congratulations were arriving to the manor, servants sent trudging through the snow and chill winds to deliver penned parchments by the dozens. It would be over a week before Darcy visited with the local gentlemen at the pub in Lambton, then discovering that it was Albert Hughes's father, Wentworth Hughes, who won the wager on nearly all counts. One hundred twenty-three pounds for guessing birth date, closest time, and sex! The gents toasted the new father, plying him with cigars and humorous words of parenting advice.

Back at Pemberley, as the weeks moved toward Christmas, life fell into the typical routines for this time of the year. Nevertheless, covering it all, threading through it all, and as a foundation of it all was Alexander. He was the star, the sweet center of attention, the innocent being that had every last soul wrapped around his tiny fingers. Lizzy did begin walking with him the day after the Bingleys left, Darcy at her elbow as they slowly traversed the endless corridors of the top floor. They took turns carrying him, pointing to various portraits or wall hangings, some of which were actually colorful enough to capture his brief consideration. Mostly he slept nestled onto a shoulder, the exercise being essentially for Lizzy's benefit.

Even the sporadically encountered footman or maid could not resist a spontaneous smile and warm gaze to touch the young Master's face. Lizzy was delighted to proudly show him to anyone, Darcy also overcoming a natural devotion to protocol by introducing him with a broad grin.

Georgiana and George joined the excursions from time to time. The dear doctor adored his grand-nephew, easily ensnaring the infant's serious gaze what with the garish outfits he wore, a voice exactly like his nephew's, and a natural storyteller's dramatic flair for enunciation. George found a captive audience to his wild tales, Alexander mesmerized by the theatric facial expressions and mimicking noises. “Aunt Giana,” as she would become to the array of nephews and nieces to eventually join the Darcy family, seized every moment possible to bond with her first nephew. Her clear devotion to him and sweet disposition would prevail, forging a deep love that would last down through the decades.

Chapter Nineteen 

Year's End

“Is he asleep?” Darcy asked Lizzy from the doorway as he entered the nursery.

“Yes. Mrs. Hanford, you will ring me if he wakens?”

“Of course, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Do not fret, my dear. He has eaten well and should allot you at least three hours to dine. You need a full meal for a change.” Darcy soothed his wife with a tender caress to the small of her back, bending simultaneously to bestow a light kiss to Alexander's forehead. The baby, hours away from being four days old, lay soundly asleep in his cradle for the very first time. His tiny mouth was parted in sleep, as Darcy's always was, miniature fists curled to either side of his head and round bottom lifted into the air as he snuggled into the cushioned mattress.

“Are you sure he will be warm enough? Perhaps we should add another blanket.”

Darcy touched his cheek. “He feels warm, and Mrs. Hanford will ensure the fire stays lit. Come, love, all will be well, I promise.” Lizzy reluctantly allowed her husband to lead her away, not realizing that the separation was no easier for him. Darcy shared a last glance with Mrs. Hanford, the understanding nanny nodding and smiling with reassurance.

Darcy had lovingly, but firmly, informed Lizzy that tonight they would dine with George and Georgiana. As difficult as it was to leave their son, Darcy was craving a full-course, freshly served meal. Furthermore, he knew that for Elizabeth to regain her strength it was essential her diet improve beyond quick trays served in their chambers. Aside from the nutritional aspects of the decision, he judged that dressing in more than a nightgown, primping her hair, and wearing a few jewels would mentally aid in her total recovery.

Lizzy had tearily argued, Darcy embracing her and nearly relenting, but finally she had agreed. Now Darcy could only stare at his wife and the vision she presented. Marguerite had coiffed her hair in a basic, unadorned chignon with the strand of sapphires about her slender neck the only jewels. She wore one of the gowns designed for her by Madame Millicent in London for when she was early in her pregnancy, and already a mere four days since delivering she was slim enough to wear it, the creamy tops of her lactating breasts beautifully displayed.

He halted her in the bedchamber, Lizzy glancing up into his face with surprise and sudden hope. “Are we staying after all?”

Darcy smiled, cupping her face with his palms and shaking his head. “No, beloved. I intend to guarantee you eat until bursting, drink a glass of wine, laugh with your family, and unwind. First, however, I must tell you how absolutely stunning you are. God, Elizabeth! You take my breath away!” He encircled her neck, bending for a teasing and earnest kiss. “Delicious. Come, Mrs. Darcy, the clock is ticking, knowing the appetite of our son.”

Lizzy was greeted with enthusiasm by George and Georgiana. Darcy, bless his amazing heart, had placed a goose down-filled cushion on the chair to his right, guiding his wife and lovingly assisting her to sit, a chore that was yet painfully accomplished. A large part of her heart and soul remained upstairs, but the warm welcome and dazzling brilliance of the appointed dining room calmed her. With the serving of the first course, a delicious roasted red pepper soup, Lizzy wholly relaxed into the joy of fine dining with dear loved ones.