A Merry Darcy Christmas

“And if the child is a girl?” Darcy said with a smile; he appreciated Mr. Bennet’s implicit permission not to name a son after him.

“Do not speak so!” Mr. Bennet scolded. “Lizzy is far too sensible to give you a daughter. She knows better than to follow in her mother’s footsteps.”

At this, Darcy laughed aloud. “I should be very pleased to have a daughter if she was anything like the mother.”

“Well, you have me there, sir,” Mr. Bennet said with a resigned air. “Lizzy has the most wit of any of my daughters, I’ll grant you that.”

The library door opened, and through it entered Elizabeth, followed closely by Jane.

“You must both come quickly,” Elizabeth said, going to her father and helping him from his seat. “Visitors have just arrived, bearing a surprise.”

“An agreeable surprise judging by your expressions,” said Darcy. Elizabeth was glowing, and he thought he had never seen her more beautiful, but then checked himself, for he thought that several times a day.

“You’ll see,” Elizabeth said lightly.

“Hurry,” said Jane. “Georgiana is meeting the party, and you must greet them before Mother does. She has two daughters left to marry and will importune your guests to no end for introductions if we do not spirit them away first.”

The gentleman preceded the ladies down the grand staircase of Pemberley to its great foyer where Georgiana—now Mrs. Pettigrew—and her husband were welcoming the newly arrived guests. Darcy saw that Kitty and Mary were there as well though fortunately, Mrs. Bennet was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s Lord and Lady Northover,” Georgiana said, turning to Darcy as he ap

proached the bottom of the staircase. “And—”

“His Lordship and her Ladyship both,” cried Mrs. Bennet who had appeared out of nowhere. “Just who I wanted to see! I was so hoping you would come for Christmas. I wanted to ask you when I could send Kitty to Hardwick. She is not getting any younger, and there are no suitable men to be had near Longbourn.”

“She’s welcome any time,” said Lord Northover with a short bow. “We’ll take her back with us if you like.”

Kitty took something from Lady Northover and turned to face the party. “He’s perfect!” she exclaimed. “Just look at his little hands.”

Darcy stood at the base of the staircase and watched as Elizabeth ran up to her sister.

“What, ho! If it isn’t North and Lady Northover,” said Mr. Bingley, who entered from a hallway carrying a shotgun. He gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and Jane blushed. “I was just coming to look to see if I couldn’t rouse a shooting party and I daresay I’m in luck.”

“No shooting for me today, I’m afraid,” said Lord Northover. “But perhaps Mr. Pettigrew or Mr. Darcy could accommodate you while I take a short rest. Do you have any idea how much attention an infant commands? I swear I would not be a nurse for a kingdom.”

“He is perfect,” Elizabeth holding the baby in her arms and looking at her husband.

Darcy felt his heart melt. The picture of the pair of them, standing in the grand marble foyer, which was decorated with evergreen boughs and holly for Christmastide, was a poignant reminder that soon perhaps—who could say when? —the Darcy family might also be augmented by a new arrival.

“What is his name?” Elizabeth asked.

“Fitzwilliam,” Lady Northover said shyly. “Fitzwilliam Northover.”

“Two fine old aristocratic names,” said Mr. Bennet. “Splendid! Just as it should be.”

“Congratulations,” said Darcy. He saw the happiness in his old friend’s face, and the joy and love in the face of his cousin and childhood friend too. “Motherhood suits you, Anne.”

Lady Northover beamed.

“I always beat you, Darcy,” said Lord Northover. “It seems your destiny.”

Darcy felt Elizabeth’s arm around his waist, and she pressed against him as she rose up to stand on tiptoe. Her soft lips brushed his ear, and her breath was warm as she whispered into it. He looked down quickly and saw the confirmation of what she had just told him in her remarkable brown eyes. He looked back at his friend.

“But never by much,” Darcy replied with the broadest of smiles, holding his wife tightly to his side.