“Hmmm… Were we?” He captured her lower lip, sucking gently.

Lizzy giggled, pulling away, but he only followed, her giggles increasing and voice mumbling without the ability to articulate properly. “William, finish your tale. Curiosity is killing me!”

He let go of her lip with a laugh. “A rumormonger you are, Mrs. Darcy.”

“You started it! And quit changing the subject. One minute Richard in love, the next a ball attended months ago. Focus, my dear, and tell me… Wait!” Her eyes opened wide as comprehension dawned, Darcy observing her with a broad grin. “You mean Lady Fotherby?” Nod. “Richard is in love with Lady Fotherby?” Nod. “How? When? I do not see…”

“Allow me to enlighten you, and rest assured, I was as flabbergasted and I have known the man all my life.” He proceeded to tell her the entire woeful tale as recounted to him, leaving nothing out, and adding his own commentaries from recollected incidents of ages past. “I remember the two flirting a bit, but it is standard practice amongst most of the society seekers, as you witnessed yourself. A time or two he mentioned Lady Simone’s beauty or grace, repeated a handful of witty ripostes or clever stories with a gleam in his eye. The gents teased him a bit, but that too was standard practice so I thought little of it.”

He chuckled, closing his eyes in humored remembrance. “It was dangerous, Elizabeth. Merely glancing at a lady was fodder for merciless teasing, let alone speaking of one. Luckily, it was an equal opportunity mocking torment so no one took it seriously.”

“How about you? I know how you despise being teased.”

He smiled. “I avoided looking at or talking to any women as much as possible, which was not too difficult since they all frightened me half to death.”

Lizzy burst out laughing, Darcy rolling to his back with her in his arms and laughing as well. “There! You now know all of my secrets. You were not the first woman to leave me hopelessly tongue-tied, although the reasons were quite different. Social skills were never my forte, especially when in my teens. Thankfully, I was ridiculous and boring so the young ladies ignored me as well, saving me from the worst of my friends’ innuendos and taunting.”

“I rather doubt they ignored you, after all I have seen your portrait from the year you left for Cambridge and you were entirely too dashing to be ignored. So what is Richard to do?”

Darcy shrugged, eyes on the breasts so gloriously displayed resting on his chest as Lizzy was propped on her elbows above him. Reaching to trace an index finger over the softness, dipping into the welcoming cleavage, he answered absently, “Not much he can do at this juncture. Lady Fotherby is in mourning and will be for a few more months. Eventually, however, she will return to society functions. Richard should have no trouble encountering her from time to time, especially if he is proactive as I suggested he be. His greatest obstacle will be the other men placing themselves in her path. A wealthy widow of her beauty will be sought after. I encouraged him to press his suit forthwith. If she holds any affection for him, which seems at least possible, given the clues extended, he should have no trouble.”

“Who would have thought you would ever be giving another advice on romance?”

He glanced up at her teasing face with a grin. “My arts worked on you, did they not? Found me irresistible, charming, dashing? Had to have me as yours immediately? Wanted me desperately?” He accented the huskily uttered words with firm strokes down her sides and a tight squeeze into his pelvis.

Lizzy squirmed and laughed. “Live with your delusions if you must, Mr. Darcy, although rewriting history is considered a sin in some quarters.”

He merely grinned and returned to the delightful contemplation of her bosom. “You no longer leak milk and feel softer, not so… lumpy.”

“Lumpy? Yes, I suppose they did at times.” She shook her head in amusement. “My body seems to have adjusted.” She smiled at Darcy’s rapt attention, running fingers through his thick, messy hair while she observed the play of expressions crossing his elegant features. His thoughts were transparent, thus she was not even slightly surprised when he gently rolled her onto her back and buried his face into her chest with a happy sigh.

His playful delight did not last long, however, as the bell above the right side of the bed rang. With a final kiss to each pert nipple, Darcy rose, kissing her lips before exiting the bed.

They had come to refer to this final nursing as Alexander’s bedtime snack, as he inevitably ate voraciously prior and needed merely to fill the tiny void before succumbing to a deep Darcy-style sleep that lasted for six to sometimes eight hours. Naturally, he was not always so predictable, often waking in the darkest hours of the night for nourishment or comforting. Mrs. Hanford assured them this was typical and to be expected for months to come. Generally, the nanny attempted to calm the baby herself, not wishing to disturb her Mistress unless essential; however, she was under orders to alert the Darcys the moment Alexander was inconsolable. Neither regarded it as a burden to attend to their son’s needs.

They were fortunate in that Alexander was a temperate infant. He had only suffered two episodes of severe infantile colic, probably as a result of something Lizzy had eaten, Mrs. Hanford informed. Those two nights of pacing and rocking with a disconsolate, screaming baby were hideously memorable. The three had taken turns attempting to placate the suffering and irritated babe, only Lizzy managing limited success at her breast. The frantic parents were distraught, doubly so by the increasing hoarseness of their son’s voice and purple cast to his face. The first night, Darcy was so worried that he woke George, insisting he examine Alexander, which the good doctor was more than happy to do. He and Mrs. Hanford exchanged understanding glances, George assuring the new parents that it was normal albeit distressful. He personally brewed a concoction of herbals, including fennel, chamomile, anise, and dill that did seem to help, or maybe Alexander just wore himself out. Whatever the case, they kept a bottle of the extract in the nursery just in case.

Darcy particularly enjoyed this late night snack, as Alexander was not so ravenous and more apt to willingly play with his father. He walked slowly into the bedchamber, Alexander placated for the moment with his father’s little finger. “Have you been a good boy while I was gone, my sweet? I believe you have gained another half a pound, you gorger. You nearly have two chins!” He laughed, Alexander pausing his steady sucking to gaze into Darcy’s eyes. He had a firm grip to the index finger, chubby fist curled tight, and his legs kept a regular rhythm of strong kicks. He was always moving, Darcy had discovered. Unless asleep or completely satiated with mother’s milk, his body was in action. The day before Christmas he had kicked so hard that he flipped from his side to back, limbs flailing wildly and eyes wide in amazement at the abrupt change.

Darcy sat on the bed beside a reclining Lizzy, not ready to relinquish the lively bundle cuddled in his arms. With eyes locked onto his son’s face, he asked of his wife, “Has he had any bouts of colic while I was away?”

“No. He was a bit fussy two nights ago and slow to suckle contentedly. I gave him a few drops of tonic and we rocked. I discovered that gazing into the flames soothes him. Finally he nursed and slept well. I was relieved it did not ripen into a serious episode, as you were not here to sing to him.” She chuckled at Darcy’s wry smile. “I would not count on him being musically inclined, as he seems to prefer your singing voice to mine.”

“Have no fear, love. Georgie adored my singing and she is incredibly talented. Maybe you will be the Darcy male to break the mold, my darling.” He brought the baby to his lips for a number of tender kisses, Alexander patiently enduring. Darcy ran a hand all over his son’s round body, marveling anew at the combination of vulnerable softness and solid strength. Developing rolls of fat could be felt on his arms and legs, his entire body dominated by an enormous abdomen, and his head hard was still covered with a mass of brown curls. Darcy removed one thick knitted bootie to nibble kisses to a plump, pink foot.

“Praise be to God for keeping you so healthy and perfect,” Darcy whispered, kissing the baby’s brow. “I love you, my son, my precious, precious son.”

“We received a few more gifts before the storm struck. I piled them with the others in the parlor.” She reached up to tickle over Alexander’s exposed toes, dropping her hand to caress lightly over Darcy’s bare knee emerged from an open robe. “We received a package from Lady Catherine and Anne, including an envelope addressed to us which I assume is a wedding invitation.”

“You did not open it?”

“I wished to wait for you. I heard from Charlotte as well, a brief note as they likely all will be for a time to come. She says that the girls are in excellent health; the youngest, Rachel if you recall, has nearly caught up to her sister Leah. What a relief it must be for them.”

“Rachel and Leah. Lovely names, although I find myself thankful they were not male children or they may have been christened Cain and Abel.”

Lizzy laughed. “Or Jacob and Esau, neither option boding well for future sibling tranquility. Anyway, Charlotte says the wedding plans are consuming life at Rosings. I gather it is to be an extravaganza. Apparently, Mr. Collins was disappointed that the ceremony would be taking place in the Ashford Cathedral with the Bishop presiding.”

“Foolish man! What did he think?”