“He is clean now, Mr. Darcy. We need to dress him, protecting his nether regions before more accidents occur. I am sure his mother wants to see him soon.” Darcy's grin was nearly swallowing his face, turning to peer at his resplendent wife now in a clean gown and propped on fresh pillows while Jane brushed and replaited her hair. Their eyes held, volumes of unspoken emotion and sentiment passing between. In a few minutes the baby was diapered and wrapped loosely in a warm blanket sewn by Lizzy. Darcy carried him to Elizabeth, her arms extended in anticipation. Slowly the occupants filed from the chamber, Jane kissing her sister one last time on the temple and glancing shyly to Darcy.

“Congratulations, William,” she whispered.

Darcy beamed. “Thank you, Jane.”

Last was George. The proud great-uncle taking a moment to inspect the sleeping bundle of joy embraced against his weary mother's breast with jubilant and rather smug father encircling them both.

“Well done, you two, well done. He is lovely. Perfectly delivered, if I say so myself! William, ensure your wife rests. No staring at the baby all night in lieu of sleep. I will check on you later, dear. Notify me immediately if you feel strange in any way. Remember what we spoke of previously,” he said, directing the last comment to Darcy, who nodded.

“William, once you are alone, assist Elizabeth in placing Alexander on her chest. Keeping him naked against her bare flesh is the best place for him to be. He will stay warm and be very calm. Enjoy this time while he is awake.”

“When should I feed him, Uncle?” Elizabeth asked, not removing her adoring gaze from the rapt fascination with the baby's alert eyes.

“Just hold him for now, my dear. Let instinct rule. He will make his intentions known.” The doctor chuckled, bending to brush the infant's cheek with a fingertip. He placed a tender kiss to Lizzy's brow. “Congratulations, niece. You were amazing. You too, William,” and with a clap to his nephew's shoulder he departed, leaving the Darcys finally alone with their child. 

Chapter Eighteen

Alexander

Silence fell. The crackling of the fire, ticking of the longcase clock, muffled murmurs of voices from without mingling with the familiar creaks from within the mansion's walls, faint whispers of a November wind beyond the curtained windows, and the harmonious heartbeats and contented respirations of the three Darcys the only noises.

Lizzy's gown was opened, Alexander nestled with his belly and chest pressed flat along her torso, his head pillowed upon one soft breast.

He was wide awake and for a very long time Darcy and Lizzy stared, plainly stared, at the beautiful face of their newborn son as he stared back. He moved occasionally, emitting soft mews, pursing full pink lips, delicate eyelids fluttering, miniature fingers grasping and releasing a parent's finger. His mouth would open, apparently seeking as his surprisingly strong neck turned a wobbly head toward her breast. But then he would pause, quieting as he resumed his inquisitive inspection of his parents.

Lizzy sniffled, wiping at a falling tear and sighing deeply. “Are you in pain, dearest?” Darcy asked, reaching to stroke her chin as she shook her head.

“No. Well, yes, a bit achy and very tired, but the tears are of joy. Look at him, William! Is he not the most beautiful baby you have ever seen?”

Darcy chuckled, chest vibrating. “As you know I have limited exposure, this is an unfair question. Nonetheless, I cannot fathom any other being handsomer. He has your hair, Elizabeth, and your eyes.”

“His eyes are blue.”

“Yes, but shaped like yours. And he inherited your nose, thankfully.”

“It does not look like my nose, and besides, I adore your nose!” She turned her head for a peck to said proboscis positioned by her cheek. “It is easy to find for kisses in the dark.”

“Indeed, it is. He is beginning to seek more diligently. Perhaps hunger is winning over the need for sedate cuddling.” Darcy ran a fingertip over the tiny lips, Alexander instantly opening wide and searching.

“If he inherited his father's appetite, then this is likely true. Perhaps I should nurse him.”

“It appears he has decided the same. Look how he squirms to reach your nipple, just as Uncle said he would. Marvelous nature!” Darcy declared in awe, both parents watching in amazement as with minimal aid from them, Alexander wiggled and bobbed his way toward his mother's bared breast. They laughed as they fumbled to help him, but it was not overly necessary. The newborn fortunately knew precisely what to do, only requiring the nipple to come within proximity of his gaping mouth.

Lizzy gasped and jerked at the strong suck, fresh tears springing to her eyes as emotions consumed her.

“Are you well, Elizabeth? Does it hurt?”

She shook her head vigorously, relaxing further into his warm body. “No, no. It is… blissful! I just… love him so much! And you… William, I am so deliriously happy!” He held her firmly, rocking gently as she cried, Alexander oblivious to it all as he nursed and held tightly to his mother's finger.

Gradually she quieted, lifting her eyes to meet Darcy's adoring gaze. He bent, kissing her lightly. “I love you forever, Elizabeth.”

“And I you, Fitzwilliam. By the way, I know it yet a couple hours early but… Happy anniversary my darling. Do you like your gift?”

“I daresay I love both the gift and the packaging it came in. Happy anniversary, Mrs. Darcy.”

Many hours later, well after midnight and nearing the dawn of November 28, 1817, another date of import, Lizzy woke. The unfamiliar room was dim, Lizzy momentarily befuddled by the strange and empty bed as well as the cramping leg muscles, burning arms, and throbbing bottom. The happenings of the twenty-seventh rushed through her consciousness, Lizzy smiling brightly at the surge of exultation, and then suddenly panicking as the vacancy in her arms stabbed her heart.

Her eyes flew open and she painfully attempted to rise, halting and relaxing with a gratified sigh at the vision greeting her.

Darcy lay asleep on the narrow, short sofa before the smoldering fire. His vest had been discarded and the linen shirt loose and gaping open over his bare chest with a blanket haphazardly covering his lower body. His feet were also bare and one long leg had fallen off the sofa onto the floor while the other was draped over the arm and dangling from the knee on. His beautiful face was turned toward the bed, lips parted, and he breathed in a deep rhythm. Lying on his ample chest was Alexander. The baby was swaddled and dressed, one arm free and hanging over his father's side. His tiny pink face was visible, full lips parted just like his father's. Darcy held his son securely, even in sleep, one large hand resting on the infant's rear and the other hand wholly encompassing the curly brown-haired head.

Lizzy lay awake for a long while watching father and son in peaceful slumber. It was a picture more moving than anything created by the greatest artist. The new mother studied the scene in the finest detail, reverently hanging it in her mind's gallery to be remembered for all of her life.

Alexander William George Bennet Darcy, Heir to Pemberley, Master Alex as he would be commonly known to the staff as he grew, was hungry and it was quite feasible that the entire household knew it! The future Master of Pemberley's character was yet unknown, his personality to undergo years of molding and development, but one trait that was instantly recognizable was his demanding persistence.