“It is called a kaleidoscope. Look into the end, Elizabeth, and turn it here.”

She did as he instructed, jerking back in startled surprise, then looking again in amazement. “It is beautiful! How… it changes!” She gasped, “This is miraculous. How does it work?”

“You see,” he pointed, “the tube is filled with tiny beads and mirrors which reflect the colors in an unlimited medley of patterns. Is it not the most astounding contrivance? It was patented just last year and I have been endeavoring to obtain one since.”

“We must keep it in either the game room or the parlor so guests can enjoy it, do you not agree?”

“It is yours, dearest. Keep it wherever you wish.”

“This is far too marvelous to horde all to myself.” She had yet to remove her eye from it. “One could become bedazzled and never pull away,” she mumbled.

Darcy laughed. “As is happening to you. Have you forgotten our dinner engagement, Mrs. Darcy? Also, I have another gift for you, which must be given now to keep to the schedule.”

Lizzy reluctantly forced her concentration from the kaleidoscope, riveted next on the rather large box she had not noted on the fireplace hearth. She had frankly lost count of all her gifts. The amount of deliberation applied to flawlessly effectuate the day's happenings was phenomenal, and Lizzy was staggered.

The box hid a cuckoo clock. Lizzy laughed aloud and hugged Darcy in true joy. Longbourn boasted a cuckoo clock that her father had gifted to her mother when they were newly married. It was a family heirloom and all Lizzy's life the sound of the little blue bird announced the hour. It was one of those comforting homely realities which, over time, one no longer consciously recognizes… until it is gone. Lizzy had breezily mentioned a time or two that she missed the unique chime of the cuckoo. Darcy, as with everything, had remembered.

The design was typical: the wooden German chalet with snowy roof, a shepherd boy with three sheep in front, and the trap door above the dial for the blue and yellow cuckoo. The workmanship was superb, and Darcy assured her that it was authentic from the Black Forest region of Germany, not that she would have suspected less from him.

A few more kisses ensued, both reluctantly separating to prepare for dinner.

Lizzy stood before the tall mirror adjusting the snug bodice of her gown for improved comfort. Marguerite was currently retrieving her new Kashmir shawl.

“As always, Mrs. Darcy, you steal the very breath from my lungs with your beauty.”

Lizzy did not even turn about, so acclimated to Darcy's presence in her dressing room. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I daresay I am gratified that new gowns are top on my list of priorities. I shall soon have naught to wear.”

Darcy walked behind her, placing hands lightly on her hips as he whispered in her ear, “Perhaps I should forbid you purchasing new gowns, beloved, then you would be forced to remain bared. I might rather enjoy that.”

Marguerite returned at that moment, forestalling Lizzy's retort, and Darcy retreated a pace. “Here you are Mistress. The colors match perfectly with your gown. Mr. Darcy has excellent taste.” She bobbed in Darcy's direction.

“Thank you, Marguerite.” He bowed, “Are you finished, Elizabeth?”

“I believe so. You may retire, Marguerite. No need to wait up for me. Enjoy your evening.” With another curtsey, she departed. Lizzy started to turn towards her husband, but he had rapidly resumed his previous pose, now with hands about her waist and lips nibbling along her neck.

“I rather wish we could stay home,” he mumbled. “As lovely as this gown is, I do believe I would prefer you out of it.”

“You are echoing the thoughts I was entertaining earlier, my love. However, you have gone to inordinate effort for this day and I would not wish to disrupt the agenda. Hold that vision, beloved, and I will happily allow you to fulfill your fantasy when we return.” She pivoted in his arms and pressed into him. “After all, I owe you a plenitude of thanks for all you have done for me today. I have been devising plans as you suggested.”

He smiled happily, kissing tenderly in pleasure but also to distract. He reached into his pocket withdrawing the last gift and slipping it about her slender neck. She pulled away with a start, fingers moving to touch the necklace. Darcy was beaming, hands turning her back to face the mirror.

“Alas, this is the final present. Or rather the last present designated for your birthday. I make no promises to desist lavishing you, my wife.”

The necklace was dainty, as both Darcy and Lizzy preferred: a single strand of small diamonds and amber linked, the teardrop pendant of translucent amber hanging precisely at the top of her cleavage. It was elegant and flawless, obviously of superior craftsmanship. Additionally, it blended fluidly with her gold-trimmed beige gown.

“Marguerite knew about this, did she not?” Lizzy smiled at her husband's reflection as he nodded. “She suggested this gown. You are a sneak, William.” He shrugged, kissing the nape of her neck.

“Amber accents your fine, chocolate eyes, dearest. The dress accents your luscious body. I win on both counts.”

“Gifts and excessive flattery. My, my, you surely do deserve abundant expressions of my gratitude, lover.”

“I shall wait with bated breath.”

The townhouse of Lord and Lady Matlock was located in the heart of St. James's Place, just north of Piccadilly. Lizzy had dined with the Earl and his wife once during her engagement, upon the occasion of her introduction to them. This dinner would naturally be quite different, as Lizzy was now family and Darcy's uncle and aunt were very dear to her. Once they were in the carriage and on their way, Lizzy discovered her previous wish to stay home fading under the anticipated pleasure of seeing the Matlocks again. They had left Derbyshire for London shortly after Elizabeth's recovery and the duel, so Lizzy did miss them.

They were greeted by the butler, who informed them that the Earl and Countess of Matlock were awaiting them in the parlor. He led the way, Lizzy holding the arm of her husband. The butler had spoken the truth. The Fitzwilliams were in the parlor, standing in the exact middle of the room to be precise. Additionally, to Lizzy's stunned astonishment, they were surrounded by a crowd.

Georgiana stood beside them, smiling and nearly hopping in delight, with Colonel Fitzwilliam grinning behind her. Mary and Kitty stood between Edward and Violet Gardiner and Charles and Jane Bingley. Caroline Bingley stood slightly apart with a faint smile gracing her pinched features. Also present were Stephen and Amelia Lathrop, Gerald and Harriet Vernor with his parents Henry and Mary Vernor, George and Alison Fitzherbert, Rory and Julia Sitwell, Clifton and Chloe Drury, as well as Albert and Marilyn Hughes. Even Richard's older brother Jonathan and his wife Priscilla were in attendance.

Virtually in unison they wished Lizzy a happy birthday. Darcy was grinning broadly, remarkably proud for executing the final crescendo to what was undeniably a momentous day of surprises. Lizzy was immediately surrounded, Darcy retreating a safe distance to contentedly observe his wife's glowing face. The press of visitors would prevent them exchanging more than a few words all evening, Lizzy only able to express her gratitude and abounding joy via glancing eye contact.

The evening consisted of a marvelous dinner with lively conversation succeeded by segregated male and female socializing. Amelia was well into her sixth month of pregnancy, with humorous tales to share in her blunt manner. Lizzy was thrilled to be able to officially announce her own expectant state, of which most in the company was ignorant. The female squeals of delight were readily heard down the hall in the game room where the men sipped their drinks, sedately congratulating Darcy with imported cigars and claps on the back.

The cap of the night was combined entertainment reminiscent of the Darcy's Christmas concert. Guests took turns at the pianoforte, while Richard played on the cello, Lady Matlock dazzled them all on the standing harp, voices from every musical range lifted, and Darcy blushingly added his violin talents for five songs. Humor was high and the gathering was carefree; and although it was a late night, Lizzy was rather amazed at her total lack of fatigue. She frequently sensed Darcy's scrutiny and was quick to meet his questioning gaze with a glorious smile.

Neither Lizzy nor Darcy was overly tired when they returned home to Darcy House. Perhaps it was in part a result of the sustained energy from the sprightly amusement of the evening, but in large portion, it was a renewed inclination to make love to each other. The girls were ushered off to their rooms, stumbling with weariness. Without preamble, Lizzy grasped her husband's hand and lead him into their room. Once there, door securely latched, she faced him and, with hands resting lightly on his chest, she kissed him affectionately.