The Georgian Inn in Derby was a very old establishment, but premiere and swank. Lizzy was extremely impressed with the coaching inn, the massive building constructed of sturdy red bricks with a white colonnaded entryway the width of two carriages. Servants dressed in fine livery dashed to retrieve baggage from the Darcy carriage while others genuflected and escorted the Darcys to their reserved suite of chambers. Their rooms were generous and well appointed, flowers in vases scattered about, and had a breathtaking view of the River Derwent below with Darley Park beyond. Samuel and Marguerite immediately attended to the necessary tasks that would provide additional homey comforts for their Master and Mistress. Luncheon was taken in the common room, the food nearly as excellent as anything prepared by Mrs. Langton.

Lizzy was initially astonished at the number of people Darcy was acquainted with in Derby, the introduction of his wife made with pride as they strolled along the streets. Lizzy expressed her surprise, and Darcy smiled as he explained.

“Well, aside from growing up in the area, Derbyshire is not as vast as you might think, my love, especially if one is a Darcy. I do a great deal of business in Derby. I always stay at The George, which is why Mr. Harris knew me immediately. Of course, the room I usually stay in is a single room on the other side of the building.” He paused, glancing sidelong at his wife with a smirk, continuing dreamily, “I always wanted to stay in one of the large rooms with a view of the river, so it is fortunate I am now married, for that reason if for none other.”

Lizzy squeezed his arm and pinched him unobtrusively, harrumphing under her breath. Darcy chuckled and continued, “All our wool is brought here to the mill, as well as the grains and other harvests. Derby is the center for commerce in the region, and the way to London and beyond. You know I am part owner of a cotton mill here where baled cotton is processed. Also, I have a financial interest in the silk mill. Therefore, I travel here frequently for one reason or another, although I do usually return the same day. Actually, being married to you, beloved, has another advantage, as I can extend my stay beyond business to visit many of the sights I have not enjoyed for years.” He smiled down at Lizzy, who smiled in return.

“How pleased I am, dear husband, that marriage to me has afforded you so many joys. I feared your disappointment most acutely.” Darcy merely laughed.

The shop they entered, tiny bells tinkling at the door, was a store recommended by Harriet Vernor that specialized in infant and child accouterments, furnishings, and clothing. Meryton had a similar establishment—although substantially smaller—that Lizzy had frequented on occasion for friends, so she was not completely unfamiliar with the merchandise and atmosphere.

Darcy, however, had never in all his life stepped foot into such a place. The instant inundation with paraphernalia exclusively infantine was overwhelming. His heart constricted at the plethora of miniature garments and accessories. The air even smelled like a baby, or at least it seemed so to Darcy, although in truth he had only a vague seventeen-year-old memory of what a baby smelled like—except for foals, which had a freshness about them that was reminiscent to what he scented now. Tears sprang to his eyes and he cleared his throat gruffly, turning aside to finger the first item nearby: a spun-cotton-stuffed toy hound dog.

Lizzy had begun speaking to the proprietress, a Mrs. Higgins, explaining that she was expecting her first child and essentially needed everything.

“William?” she called to her husband. “Mrs. Higgins will assist us with our requirements. We are certainly not the first new parents to enter her shoppe!”

Darcy stepped forward as she spoke. He had taken control of his emotions, the Darcy mask of rigid calm and aloofness firmly in place. He bowed, and said haltingly with studied restraint, “Mrs. Higgins. We thank you for your time and patience. We will need everything, as Mrs. Darcy revealed. Cost is not an issue, and I insist on the best.”

“Mr. Darcy?” the store owner asked with awe. “I did not realize… well, naturally I will do all to help. Allow me a moment to call my assistant.” She bobbed and departed to a back room hastily.

Lizzy was frowning at him, crossing to where he stood with a concerned gaze. Laying a hand on his arm, she asked, “William, are you well? You seem so… uncomfortable. If you do not wish to be here, you need only say so. I will understand.” Her voice caught, but she tried to assure him with a weak smile.

Darcy's face fell, the mask instantly slipping as he grasped her hand. “No, beloved! There is nowhere else on earth I would rather be than here. I was merely… overcome for a moment. Please forgive me.” He kissed her forehead and she smiled brilliantly in relief.

He straightened stiffly when Mrs. Higgins returned, accompanied by a young woman introduced as Christina. For the next three hours, they closely examined every square inch of the store and many items pulled from the storage rooms. Darcy was not at all jesting when he said cost was not an issue, refusing several products that did not appear adequately constructed or were too plain. Gradually, Mrs. Higgins came to understand the truth of his assertions, and cognizant of the reputed Darcy wealth, she retrieved certain articles of extreme elegance and extravagance kept stashed away for just such special customers.

Therefore, they eventually exited having spent, to Lizzy's way of thinking, an obscene amount of money. Any attempts on her part to insert rationality or frugalness into the discussions garnered the infamous Darcy glare with brow creases deep and eyes flashing, so she relented. Along with the fundamentals, such as thick diapering cloths, pins, linens, towels, bathing essentials, and the like, they also purchased a few clothes and blankets. Most of their son's garments Lizzy wished to make herself, as well as the cradle blankets and cushions, fabrics to be obtained at the drapers.

Darcy was intently interested in each item, especially those things unique or revolutionary. Lizzy smiled at this, remembering with clarity all the remarkable gadgets he had acquired for her birthday. He was spellbound by the colorful mobile and purchased three of them, “for variety and to stimulate our son's intellect,” he said.

Equally amazing to him were the perambulators. He examined them thoroughly, pressing on them and driving them about the room. He frowned with a look of deep concentration, fingers flicking in a manner Lizzy was very familiar with. “It is like a miniature carriage,” he mused to himself. “If springs were placed here and here, it would have more bounce and ride smoother. The wheels could be sturdier to withstand the gravel paths around Pemberley. Hmmm…” He rubbed his chin. Lizzy watched him with admiration, Mrs. Higgins clearly confused.

Darcy continued, peering at his wife with a grin, “I think I, with Mr. Clark's assistance, could fashion improvements, Elizabeth, so the ride would be comfortable for him and you could walk far afield as you desire without safety concerns. Or better yet, the groom Stan! You remember him?” Lizzy nodded, smiling at the enthusiasm which led to him relaxing his formal pose. “He is a wizard with mechanical devices, always fixing the carriages and fountain pumps and anything else, usually ameliorating them in the process. Do you have one of these with natural tan leather for the canopy?” He asked suddenly of Mrs. Higgins, startling her.

“Y-Yes, Mr. Darcy, we do, although the black is in style now.”

He waved his hand, interrupting her. “That is inconsequential. Lighter colors block the sun.”

Next were the baby slings, new contraptions that carried a baby close to one's body while leaving the hands free. Both Lizzy and Darcy saw the advantage of this, although it was Lizzy who remembered the yards of Indian fabrics Dr. Darcy had gifted and instantly deduced how she could fashion her own slings. Darcy laughed at the mental vision of his wife and son draped with garish Indian silks.

Completing the infant wares were a tightly woven basket carrier, a tiny brush of silver and fine horsehair, two oil paintings of pastel-hued floral arrangements, and the stuffed hound. All were to be bundled and shipped to Pemberley.

Darcy and Lizzy strolled arm in arm, content at the day's accomplishments. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was shining brightly, but a gentle breeze eased the heat. The plan was to visit the drapers, but Lizzy felt drained after so many hours of shopping and the heat sapping her strength. “Dearest, can we postpone the fabric store until tomorrow? Suddenly a walk through the park sounds appealing.”

When they returned to the inn after a leisurely hour under the old oaks of Darley Park, an invitation was waiting for dinner that evening with Sir Allen Griffin of Alveston Hall. An odd expression crossed Darcy's face, but before Lizzy could inquire, it had disappeared and he sighed.

“I was hoping to avoid any social engagements; however, we should accept this, beloved, if you feel up to it. Sir Griffin was a friend to my father and his brother was married to my Aunt Muriel, who, I am sure you recall, died when I was six. They had no children and he remarried years ago, but there remains a vague familial relationship.”

In truth, Lizzy much preferred to stay alone with her husband, but such social requirements were expected, and she would not shirk her responsibilities. Therefore, by seven that evening, the Darcy carriage had halted before the massive front doors of Alveston Hall. The butler greeted them formally, leading them to the parlor. Neither knew exactly what to anticipate as far as the guest list was concerned, although they both prayed it was not an elaborate social affair. Nonetheless, they were both taken aback to note only Sir Griffin, his wife Lady Griffin, the eldest son, Mr. Lawrence Griffin, and his wife Annabella, another son, Maurice with his wife, Sarah Beth, and his daughters, Edith and Amy Griffin.