“Considering the length of Pemberley's halls, it is likely more exercise than if you walked to the rock pond and back.”

“Your tea, Mistress.” Mrs. Reynolds entered with the pot of Dr. Darcy's prescribed brew, Lizzy wincing. “Drink it all this time, Mrs. Darcy. I will be checking. Mrs. Bingley, this is for you.” She sat the pots down onto the table, bobbing a curtsy, and then departing after a pointed glance to her Mistress.

Jane began laughing the moment the door closed. “The fever of safeguarding appears to be contagious.”

“I am carrying the Darcy heir after all.”

“Pish! It is because she cares for you, Lizzy, any fool can see that. By the way, you speak of your weight, but do you remember Angela Harley? Poor dear was enormous. I seriously began to have doubts at the whole concept of matrimony and maternity watching her.” Lizzy was laughing at the recollection. “You, dear sister, are yet svelte in comparison. I do hope I am as fortunate when the time arrives.”

Jane's voice softened and she glanced away, Lizzy watching her with sudden speculation. “Jane, is there something you wish to reveal to me?”

Jane blushed brightly, staring into her lap. “I should say nothing yet, Lizzy, as we are not certain.” She glanced up at Lizzy with a shy smile, continuing, “Oh Lizzy, I have been bursting to tell you! Charles and I may be expecting!”

Lizzy clasped her hands with joy. “Jane! How marvelous! I cannot believe that Mr. Bingley has managed to maintain his calm!”

“We only days ago began to suspect and cannot be certain. Please, Lizzy, say nothing, except to Mr. Darcy of course, but no other. I know you are not the superstitious type, but I do so want to present Charles a child and fear if we speak of it too forcefully it will prove false.”

“Oh Jane, you are so silly! Nonetheless, I understand the necessity in waiting to be sure. I knew it would be lovely having you close. Now our children can grow together as playmates. Oh happy day!”

“Speaking of babies, have you heard from Charlotte?”

“Not for a month or so. In fact I was beginning to worry as I know she was due early this month. Her last letter assured me all was progressing normally. Mama's recent letter mentions nothing, so there must be no news to report or surely Mama would know!”

“Quite uncharitable of you, Lizzy, but I agree that it is true. Your tea is getting cold and you have yet to finish it. Tsk, tsk! Mrs. Reynolds may turn you over her knee. Here, have a scone. That may help the flavor.”

“No, place it amid the curls just above her left ear. Excellent! Absolutely stunning. Once again, Marguerite, you have created a flawless masterpiece.”

“Thank you, sir. With hair such as Mrs. Darcy possesses it is an easy task. I was assuming the amber necklace, madam? Does this meet with your approval?”

Lizzy shrugged. “Perhaps you should ask my personal fashion advisor.”

Both Lizzy and Marguerite looked questioningly to Darcy's reflection in the vanity mirror. “By all means the amber necklace and earrings.”

Marguerite disappeared into the closet, Lizzy gazing at her husband via the mirror. He stood in the doorway of her dressing room, dressed in a spectacular ensemble of dark gray pantaloons and jacket with waistcoat in silvery threaded purple, observing the final preparations of his wife with a happy smile on his lips. Lizzy wore the auburn gown from their renewal ceremony, her hair truly magnificent with a single clip of diamonds now nestled above her left ear.

Marguerite returned with the jewels, Darcy stepping forward to wordlessly take them from her. “I will finish here, Mrs. Oliver. Enjoy your evening with your husband.”

Marguerite curtsied, with a faint rosiness highlighting her pale cheeks, and departed. Moving behind Lizzy, Darcy encircled her slender neck and clasped the necklace in place, fingertips brushing over her skin. He bent to bestow a tiny kiss to the nape of her neck, handing her the earrings and speaking roughly, “Earrings are beyond my expertise. Elizabeth, you are breathtaking. One of the best birthday presents in all my life, sans your bookmark, is the vision of you as you are now.”

His hands rested lightly on her shoulders, Lizzy clipping the earrings on. “Thank you, my love. However, maybe this year's present will please you.” She stood and took his hand, leading into the bedchamber. The wrapped gift sat on the sofa, Lizzy encouraging Darcy to sit and handing it to him. “Happy birthday, William.”

“I will remind you that I requested no gifts.”

“Surely you did not think I would obey such a ridiculous order? Be thankful I did not invite all of Derbyshire to pay homage. After all, it is a remarkably special day, your healthy birth the beginning of the pathway leading you to me. Now open.”

He slowly untied the bow, pulling the wrapping away from the large, flat box. Lizzy was biting nervously on the corner of her lip, Darcy glancing at her with a soft smile. Inside under layers of tissue paper was a framed portrait. Darcy's breath caught and mouth fell open as with trembling fingers he removed the picture.

It was Lizzy dressed in one of his favorite gowns: a satin dress of navy blue with silver trim that beautifully accented her fuller bosom, capped sleeves off the shoulders exposing the creamy lusciousness of her flesh and swanlike neck. She wore his mother's pearl necklace and dainty drop earrings, thick chestnut tresses elaborately coiffed with tiny pearls woven into a strand of curls cascading over her right shoulder and wisps of hair brushing delicately along her temples. The artist had masterfully captured the vibrant sparkle of her eyes, faint twist of bubbling humor on her lush lips, and barely suppressed verve evident in the tilt of her head. The portrait was miniaturized, approximately twelve inches high and eight inches wide, but the realism was so astounding that the image verily leapt off the canvas.

“Elizabeth! It is unbelievable. When did you…? Who…?”

“I confess I deceived you, my love. Many of the afternoons you thought me shopping or visiting Harriet I was sitting for this. I think it good. Do you like it?”

“Good? It is stunning. You are stunning. I am at a loss for words! Thank you, Elizabeth!”

“I thought you could place it on your desk amid the clutter.”

“It may distract me too greatly as the accuracy is remarkable. I will anticipate hearing your voice emerge from the frame. Besides, workmanship such as this deserves a place of honor.”

“It is yours to do with as you wish. However, I did want it where you could view it frequently. Think of it as me watching over you.” She reached to tenderly stroke his cheek, Darcy grasping her hand for a kiss to the palm while yet staring raptly at the painting.

“You know I require no tangible remembrances of you, but I will treasure this always. Yes, you are correct. I will place it on my desk, even clearing some of the mess to denote an esteemed locale. On the left corner, I think.”

“You could remove that hideous statue of the bull.”

“I like that statue! Oh, you are teasing me.” He laughed, bending to kiss her pert lips tenderly and caressing her jaw. “Thank you, my dearest love. It is perfect. You never cease to amaze me. I love you, Elizabeth. May I share the painting with our guests?”

“As you wish.”

Lizzy may have ignored his pleading for no gifts, but she did grant his wish for an intimate gathering. Aside from George and Georgiana, no other guests gave gifts. The focus was on fine dining and sedate entertainment. The Sitwells had traveled from their home near Chesterfield, residing at the Hughes's. In lieu of attending, the Drurys had sent best wishes for a joyous birthday.

All were in awe at Lizzy's miniature portrait, praising the artistry and sentiment. Darcy momentarily slipped away from his guests to reverently place it in his study, clearing a corner of the enormous desk with a smile as he imagined all the subsequent days spent at his labors with her beautiful face gazing upon him. He touched the gilded frame, chuckling happily as he freshly acknowledged the vast difference between this birthday and the last versus every other in his entire life. His mother and father, when he was young, had showered him with gifts, prepared his favorite dinner and dessert, and a handful of times in his youth held small parties with his closest friends. Then there were the grief-filled years after his mother died when celebrations of all sorts had practically ceased. His birthdays then were family affairs only with little in the way of gaiety. As he had told Lizzy last year, his adult birthdays had passed virtually with no recognition except for modest gifts from Mrs. Reynolds, Georgiana, and occasionally Richard.