Chapter 8
Darcy would have his worries in the future, for her and for his sister, for his children and Pemberley.
But for now, on Christmas Eve, he was as content as Elizabeth had ever seen him.
Nestling Jane’s youngest, four-month-old Joanna, in her lap, she watched as he sat on the rug helping Henry arrange the animals on his Noah’s Ark while Bennet spun his new top.
Charlie Bingley, tired out by the day’s activities and too much plum cake, lay in his father’s arms, half asleep.
His sisters, Janie and Frances, sat with Georgiana, who was glowing in these last weeks of pregnancy and marvelling over the little girls’ new dolls.
Darcy had been less cheerful earlier when confined indoors watching Bingley and Hartley pull the children on the sled, but he had been spirited in persuading them to nap with the promise of presents and puddings to come after tea.
Their guests—their family—had been kind enough not to tease when she and Darcy followed suit and retired to their chambers to rest as well.
Although he grumbled under his breath about everyone’s ‘incessant concern’, he was asleep within minutes.
She rose first and was amused to find Bingley snoring on the sofa in the drawing room.
Hartley, reading by the fire, assured her that Jane and Georgiana, drained by maternal demands and incipient motherhood, also were resting.
She could not recall such lassitude before in people so young, but all of them had good reason.
Children.
Beginning with their first celebration at Pemberley with her Gardiner cousins, every Christmas since she and Darcy married had featured the joyful voices, laughter, and indulgence of children.
But this was the first in which their own offspring were old enough to be part of traditions and games, and much as she missed sharing the festivities with her family, Elizabeth found herself enjoying this quieter, more intimate celebration.
It certainly was better for her husband, still recovering his strength and energy.
At Elizabeth’s urging—and on Dr Lumley’s orders—Darcy, the man who managed everything for everyone, was giving up some duties this year.
Boxes and baskets would be delivered to the tenants tomorrow, but he would not drive the sleigh.
The servants, who had done so much to help Elizabeth and the household, would enjoy rest and a fine meal and find an extra guinea in their wages, but he would not lead the toast. Much as was possible, she would ensure he rested and regained his strength.
Now, as the clock neared midnight, gifts exchanged and toasts made, games played and children asleep, she curled up next to Darcy in their bed.
Her hand lay on his chest, as if to ensure the steady rhythms of his heart and breathing.
He kissed her hair and with a smile in his voice said, “I know you are concerned and you have been quite strict with me. Have I behaved, darling?”
“You have been patient with my pampering,” she said, pulling his arm more tightly around her.
“And yes, you have been well-regulated. You drank your tea, refrained from joining Bingley in racing the boys, and most importantly, you did not wring Andrew’s neck for bringing Georgiana here for Christmas. ”
Chuckling, with only a hint of raspiness, he replied, “You know that had I the strength, I might have been tempted. But after these past days, knowing how you suffered, I am grateful for everything and everyone.”
“And pleased with our smaller celebration?”
“Well pleased, well satisfied.”
Elizabeth turned so she could better see his expression. “Would you be unhappy if our party grows larger next year?”
Darcy’s brows rose. “It is usual, is it not? The Gardiners and your family are always welcome, and of course, Georgiana and Hartley will have their child.”
Elizabeth guided his hand to her belly. “And come summer, we shall have another. A daughter, perhaps.”
His eyes lit up with delight, and pulling her into his arms, he kissed her ardently, replacing her worries of past days with the promise of all the happiness to come.