Authors: Karalynne Mackrory
Aunt Catherine, of course, was infuriated at the news of her nephew’s wedding. She was especially frustrated with her servants for neglecting to bring her the papers that announced his engagement. She was sure that, had she seen the announcements in time, she could have stopped the wedding. Before she could berate the staff, however, her daughter asserted herself for the first time against her mother. Anne reminded her mother of the details of her father’s will, entailing Rosings in its entirety to Anne upon reaching her majority at five and twenty. Anne was a year past that at the time of her cousin’s wedding and warned her mother that she could move to the dower house at any time if she did not wish to welcome Elizabeth into the family.
Begrudgingly, and more out of a fear of moving to the smaller dower house than out of any love for her new niece, Lady Catherine de Bourgh placed an insincere smile on her face the next April when her nephew Fitzwilliam Darcy brought his new bride along with him on his yearly visit.
That same visit, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had always held an uncommon level of compassion and tenderness for his cousin Anne, was surprised and
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to see her improved health. It appeared that her health had improved simply by asserting herself more with her mother, thus gaining back some of her vigor as she spent more time in the garden, on walks or driving her little phaeton and ponies around the park. His heart was shot with cupid’s arrow from that moment on, and he spent much of his efforts afterwards persuading her to love him. They were married just before Elizabeth and Darcy’s first wedding anniversary, its being the moment Anne first decided to gain control of her life as she agreed to help her cousin keep his wedding a secret from her mother.
* * *
Twelve Years Later
Darcy’s rich baritone laugh echoed through the house as he entered accompanied by his eleven- and nine-year-old boys at his side. His six-year-old daughter, Anne Elizabeth, named after the girl’s mother and his, was on his shoulder.
Both boys were exact images of their father, though the eldest and heir, William Thomas, was closer in temperament than was the younger, Alexander George. William was pensive and more reserved than his younger brother, whose personality more resembled the mischievous one of his mother and Uncle Richard. Although the boys had very different personalities, they seemed more akin to best friends than brothers most of the time.
Bending over to place his daughter on the floor, Darcy helped to assist her out of her cloak. He handed them with a smile to the waiting servants and divested himself of his own outerwear. Having just returned from doing some holiday shopping, the children and their father were eager to return to the warmth of Darcy House.
“Now boys, go on and see that you hide those packages well. You know how your mother can be quite curious when it comes to her presents.”
The boys laughed, and William said with a serious tone, “Yes, Papa.” He took the suggestion to heart and was already thinking through where he could hide the packages.
“Can I give Mama my present now, Papa?” Anne asked, her dark brown eyes sparkling so like her mother’s and tugging at her father’s heart.
Darcy smiled indulgently at his daughter. She was his darling, and he could no more deny her anything than he ever could her mother, especially when she looked at him with such beguiling eyes. He reached to smooth out her long chocolate curls and drew her into his arms for a quick kiss on the cheek.
Before he could give in to her request, his housekeeper spoke up, “Come, Anne, my dear, we must not spoil Christmas by giving your gifts too early. I know just the spot to hide your gifts, so run along with nanny, and I will be up to the nursery in a moment to hide them with you.”
Darcy gave Mrs. Carroll a thankful glance for helping him avoid having to tell his little girl no. He watched as their nanny led the children up the stairs to the nursery, Anne’s curls bouncing down her back as she skipped up the stairs. Overwhelmed with love and fatherly pride for his family, Darcy stood there a moment, watching until they were out of sight.
Maudlin thoughts about the wonderful blessings his wife had given him in their time together made Darcy suddenly very eager to see her. With a swelling in his chest, he turned to his butler with a smile.
“Mr. Carroll, might you know where my wife is this morning?”
“I believe she said she would be in the library, sir.”
Darcy smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Carroll,” he said, even as he began to walk in that direction.
His eagerness to see his wife mounted with every step he took towards her location. When he reached the library door, he paused just outside with his hand on the knob. A thought occurred to him, and he turned and headed back to the entryway to speak to his butler again.
“Mr. Carroll, do you remember my wife’s exact words?”
Mrs. Carroll joined her husband at that moment and said, “I do, sir. I believe she said she would be in ‘your library.’” Mrs. Carroll shook her head and continued, though Darcy was already walking away at a quickened pace. “Though why, after all these years of marriage, she would still not see it as her own library as well is beyond me.”
Darcy did not stay to hear the rest of his housekeeper’s words; instead a grin spread across his face, and he walked quickly towards his study door, pulling off his cravat as he went, pausing only long enough at the door to finish removing his coat and open his collar buttons. Smiling like a Cheshire cat, Darcy quietly opened the door to his study.
His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of his wife sitting behind his desk. It still had the same effect on him that it did the first time he saw her thus occupied so many years ago. Closing the door quietly behind him, Darcy leaned against its frame to watch her. Her legs were propped up on the surface of his desk, drawing his eyes to her bare feet and ankles, just visible past her skirts. She was so charmingly situated, with her head dipped down while she read her book, seemingly unaware of his presence. If it were not for the budding blush of her cheeks, the longer he stood there watching her, he would have thought his wife had not noticed his entrance. After twelve years, he had not grown tired of looking at her. Her features, softened slightly with age, still delighted him. Her figure, still light and pleasing, though maybe a touch rounded from bearing his children, also captivated him. While he watched her quietly, he folded his arms across his chest, his one leg moved to cross the other at the ankle. Sighing, Darcy wondered whether he had ever loved his wife more than he did at that moment.
He took the time to memorize every inch of the scene she presented and realized for the first time that he had never drawn her thus. The thought surprised him, and he vowed to himself to sketch her as soon as the opportunity arose. Having made his vow, he decided another thorough perusal of his wife with his eyes was necessary, so that he could capture the scene perfectly in his memory. While he allowed his eyes to drink in her beauty, her cheeks reddened further. She drew her lip under her teeth as she attempted to affect an air of indifference to his presence or his gaze.
Darcy swallowed; still uncommonly roused by her, he reached up to pull at his neck cloth and smiled to himself when he remembered it was no longer there, and the restriction around his neck was something altogether different.
* * *
Mr. Carroll looked down at his wife and smiled. She was still mumbling about the mistress and her reference to the master’s library.
“I believe she was referring to his study, dear.”
Mrs. Carroll shook her head, seemingly unable to understand the ways of the gentle class. “Well, now that the master is back from his shopping and they are together, I might as well see to the Christmas dinner menu’s approval.” She stepped forward as if to go to the study to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.
Mr. Carroll reached forward in time to pull her back by her apron ties.
“Mr. Carroll, unhand me; I need to get these menus approved!”
Mr. Carroll’s smile grew wider as he simply shook his head. “Not now, my dear.”
“And why not, might I ask?” she queried as she placed her hands on her hips.
Mr. Carroll remained silent but shook his head again. Then lifting his head, he resumed his post in the regal manner in which he always stood, his smiling face his only breach of decorum.
His wife stood looking at him until realization dawned on her, and she gasped as she looked down the hall towards her master’s study and then back up at her husband, who peered down at her at that moment to give her a wink.
Giggling, she blushed and stammered, “I suppose I ought to check in on the children now, then.”
“Excellent idea, my dear.”
* * *
After several enjoyable moments of watching his wife read at his desk, Darcy’s composure and patience could not wait a moment longer. He cleared his throat to attract her attention.
Elizabeth looked up to her husband at the sound, blushing further when she could see that she had not fooled him. Immediately, her eyes took in his casual attire, and she smiled. Looking towards the chaise lounge where he discarded his cravat and coat upon his entrance, she remembered all too clearly the first time she saw him so informally attired.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Darcy,” he drawled, drawing her eyes back to him.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy. Did you enjoy your shopping?”
Reaching behind him, Darcy clicked the lock to his study door, causing his wife to draw a sharp breath, her lips pulling up in a small smile. Darcy pushed himself off the door frame with a shove from his shoulders as he casually walked closer to his wife. He felt satisfaction as he noticed her swallow and lower her feet to the ground when he drew near to the desk.
“We did, indeed. The children found some delightful things for you.”
Elizabeth’s brows rose, and excitement passed across her face, causing Darcy to laugh. He loved discovering, through the years, how much his wife enjoyed receiving presents from him, no matter how small. Giving her gifts was one of his favorite pastimes as well. He stepped closer still until he reached her side as she sat in his desk chair.
“I am glad to hear it,” Elizabeth mumbled as she looked up at her husband’s tall frame. She smiled when he shifted and leaned against the desk to face her.
Elizabeth slowly closed the book on her lap, placing it carefully on the desk beside him. She knew that look in his eye and secretly smiled to herself. With love in her eyes, she said, “Well I am glad you are back, Fitzwilliam.” She boldly returned his look of longing. “It is good you are here, my dear. I believe we have some estate matters to discuss.”
Darcy surprised his wife by capturing her wrists and pulling her up against him. He wrapped his arms securely around her, trapping her. She laughed and placed her hands on his chest.
Looking at him, she said cheekily, “Hello to you, too, sir.”
Darcy smiled as he bent down and kissed her just below her ear. “What estate matters did you wish to discuss, my dear wife.”
Elizabeth shivered. “There is the matter of a succession,” she said suggestively.
Darcy groaned, but placed another soft kiss at her temple. “We already have an heir in William, my dear.”
Elizabeth pushed gently away from him, and with an innocent, sweet voice, said, “Well then I guess we have nothing to discuss after all.” She halfheartedly attempted to disentangle herself from his embrace. She laughed when his arms tightened and pulled her close to him again.
Leaning down to whisper into her ear, he said, “Someone I know once said to me that a wise man knows when to agree with his wife. I am a wise man, my dear. If you say we have estate matters to discuss, then by all means, let us discuss them. Let no man say Fitzwilliam Darcy is neglectful of his estate.”
The Darcys then spent an uncommon amount of time discussing the estate.
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