Therefore, exactly seven days after the Festival, Darcy and Lizzy stood on the Pemberley entryway and waved adieu to a smiling Georgiana. It was very early in the morning, Lizzy rising far earlier than she was becoming accustomed to. Darcy was dressed for riding, in truth having assumed that his wife would not wake to kiss Georgiana goodbye, having said her farewells prior to retiring last night. Now, however, with the house essentially empty and his desirable wife still with a sleepy face and hair hastily pulled back, the thought of walking away from her side even for the thrill of a morning race was unappealing.

The carriage turned the final corner, Lizzy sighing deeply and leaning against Darcy's side with a yawn. “You know, I have all my life considered myself an early riser. Meet the dawn with a smile and all that.” She lifted her eyes to meet Darcy's brilliant ones. “Perhaps my early rising became habit out of a necessity to escape the craziness of Longbourn before it began each day! Here, with you, I find life so peaceful that I do not wish to leave the comfort of our bed and chamber. It is all your fault, you know. Your charms are magnetic, my love. I am not only a hopeless wanton but slothful as well!”

Darcy was smiling happily. “If you are anticipating an apology, I fear I shall disappoint you, beloved. I am perfectly content to wake preceding you and stare at your beauty as you sleep. Furthermore, I live for the opportunity to rouse you with kisses and caresses. As for being wanton, well, I need not address my opinion on that subject surely?”

“No, you do not. In fact,” she glanced about but they were alone, and then reached up to toy with his open collar as she continued, “if you think Parsifal would not be too terribly annoyed with me or heartbroken, perhaps I could induce you to forego your morning excursion for the time being? My wicked mind is suddenly conjuring all sorts of alternate ways for you to work up a healthy sweat.”

Darcy nodded sagely, glittering eyes belying his calm pose. “Do you think the servants would gossip overly if we sprinted up the stairs?”

Lizzy pivoted with a giggle, leading him sedately inside. “Maybe we should maintain proper decorum until the second floor landing, at the least.”

Thus began a lazy pattern that would be embraced for the next several months with few exceptions. It was akin to their first weeks at Pemberley after their marriage, only now they were incredibly bonded and all the shades of newness or discomfort were wholly dissipated. They did, in fact, laze about quite a bit. Naturally, Darcy had a fair amount of work to do, letters to write, and the occasional trip about the estate but nothing terribly time consuming or critical. Aside from his study and the informal dining room, they rarely visited any of the other rooms, and the majority of their time was spent in their chambers.

Darcy, as always, rose with the sun. There was absolutely no doubt that his immediate preference was to wake his wife and make love with the sunrise. On occasion, his hunger was such that he did just that, Lizzy responding with only mild pique before passion flared. However, Darcy was a gentleman and recognized his wife's need to sleep, so usually he kissed her gently, cautiously detaching her body from his as he slipped away. Either a ride followed or quiet paperwork of some sort at the desk in their sitting room. On occasion, he scheduled morning sessions with Mr. Keith to attend to estate affairs. Whatever the case, the bulk of the morning hours were delightfully and rewardingly lapsed in the company of his love.

Despite Lizzy's jesting, she did tend to rise fairly early compared to most women of leisure. Generally she was up and freshened, nibbling on toast or fruit to curb the worst of her stomach pangs, awaiting Darcy's return from whatever endeavor he was tending to that morning. Whether he was sitting at the desk when she rose, or entering the room to discover her placidly reclining in her chair, they greeted each other with eager enthusiasm and bright smiles. Neither desired to part for the remaining hours of the morn and rarely were they forced to.

All appearances to the contrary, they actually accomplished much in the way of real work during those morning hours. Lizzy reapplied herself to learning more of the household management as well as general estate business. As Darcy conducted the ceaseless enterprises that comprised Pemberley's wealth, Lizzy aided him and increased her awareness of the overall organization. She would forever stand in awe of the vast interests and responsibilities that Darcy managed flawlessly and easily. Never would she fully comprehend it all, especially since he was forever shifting their money into other ventures or companies. Always he sought new projects or improved ways to handle an established area. It was mind boggling to Lizzy for the most part, but over time she learned to grasp much of it.

For the present, they planned primarily for the first of Duke Grafton's brood mares, which would be arriving soon, and for their child. Since Lizzy knew basically nothing about the entire world contained within the stables, their morning talks were an enormous education. Darcy explained it all in minute detail. Lizzy, frankly, grasped less than half of what he said, but she loved how he glowed and enthused whenever he spoke of his horses, so she happily allowed him to ramble. She did a tremendous amount of head nodding and mumbled vocalizations of assent, Darcy usually pacing with coiled energy as he spoke and therefore utterly unaware of whether she was understanding or not. A fly on the wall would die of hysterics at the typical scene: Darcy marching with long treads, robe fluttering wildly about his shins, fingers flickering or running through his hair while he prattled jauntily, eyes gleaming and unfocused, while Lizzy sat with a gentle smile on her lips and an expression of intense adoration mingled with dazed incomprehension.

As pertained to their baby, they discussed a number of topics. Lizzy was to be seen by a local midwife, Mrs. Henderson, who had delivered at least half of the babies in the immediate vicinity. Darcy talked to probably every person he knew and all recommended Mrs. Henderson. Despite Uncle George's vague allusion to delivering their baby, neither felt they could depend upon his presence with complete certainty. Either way, he was currently absent, so Darcy insisted she be examined by an expert. Her pregnancy was proceeding without apparent complications, but Darcy, not surprisingly, refused to assume anything.

Mrs. Henderson was a woman in her late fifties, a mother of six and grandmother of seven. She had delivered Harriet Vernor's and Marilyn Hughes's babies as well as Georgiana Darcy seventeen years ago. She was a large, very serious woman, and Lizzy was a bit intimidated by her, but her reputation was impeccable, which was all that truly mattered.

Mrs. Henderson was greatly taken aback when Darcy accompanied Lizzy into the bedchamber. “Mr. Darcy, I plan to examine Mrs. Darcy. You should wait in the sitting room. We will rejoin you when all is complete.”

Darcy, however, was shaking his head. “Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Henderson, but I have seen it before and wish to stay with my wife.” He was blushing mildly but the penetrating Darcy stare and commanding posture was in full effect. Mrs. Henderson, for all her authority, could not muster the strength to countermand, but she was clearly distressed.

Lizzy eased the tension by softly touching her arm and saying, “I assure you, Mrs. Henderson, I want my husband with me. How about a compromise? He will stand by the window while you perform the examination, but speak freely. We have no secrets.”

The midwife's professionalism overcame her nervousness eventually. Darcy frowned at Lizzy's compromise but obeyed, standing by the far window with back to the room, keen hearing missing nothing. Mrs. Henderson was thorough. Her examination concurred with the physician's assessment that the baby would arrive in early December. This meant that Lizzy was beginning her sixth month of pregnancy. She spoke at length as to the immediate expectations as Lizzy entered her last few months. She imparted nothing that they had not already gleaned from the book or Dr. Darcy, easing both their minds. Darcy spoke frequently and bluntly from his pose in the corner, startling Mrs. Henderson initially, but by the end of the interview, she was rather used to his presence and unusual interest in the subject. This, of course, had been Darcy's plan all along.

He had thought long and hard on his uncle's statement regarding being with Lizzy when the baby was born. As shocked as he was at first, the more he ruminated, it became clear that he truthfully could not fathom not being there. He discussed it with his wife, who blanched at first, the same standard protocols and habits rising to the fore.

Darcy grinned and repeated his uncle's words to him verbatim, “I know you tend to be a stickler for the rules”—Lizzy snorted at this fallacious assertion—“but it is not a law from the Crown, after all.” Lizzy had laughed, realizing as Darcy had, that neither could she imagine him not being with her. No one alive could comfort her as he could, and no one else should see their son before him.

So, although the decision had been made, Darcy certain that nothing or no one except Lizzy herself would drag him from the birth chamber, they agreed that springing the idea on the midwife at this point in time would be unkind at the least.

Darcy had not knowingly recognized any anxieties regarding Lizzy and the baby, yet hearing the midwife confirm all was well was a tremendous relief. With each passing day, as she swelled with the baby's maturing, he floated further and further off the ground. Darcy had long since given up rationalizing his devotion and ardor for his wife, accepting it fully, so was therefore blissfully unaware of how strange he was compared to most husbands in his circumstance. If he had desired his wife prior to pregnancy, and he most assuredly had nearly every second of every day, he now became obsessed. Not only was his sexual appetite as vigorous as always, but his yearning to merely gaze upon her body, to touch their child and feel him move, to talk to the burgeoning bulge, to massage the ointment over her skin, and to plan for their infant's arrival consumed him.