Page 59 of Pemberley's Imposter
The ladies had gathered in the blue parlour whilst the menfolk were occupied with business in Darcy’s study.
“He will be here shortly,” Elizabeth replied. “He had better return before dinner is announced.” She glanced in the direction of the dinner gong as though to will it not to make a sound before her son arrived. “It is not as if he needed to hunt for our dinner. But he cannot be kept inside for more than a minute with nothing to do as he turns into an ogre at any hint of idleness.”
“Much like his mother,” Lydia tittered and earned a scowl from her second eldest sister.
“I was not that impetuous or as opposed to quiet pursuits,” Elizabeth defended herself.
“Were you not?” Jane asked, but becoming aware of Elizabeth’s rapidly declining mood, she tempered her reply. “Yet, you cannot very well demand he engage in needlework or netting purses.”
“He could read a book, but even that he takes out of doors and sits under the shade of a tree or the like—if he is not flitting about like a busy bee between the first spring flowers.”
Miss Collins’s countenance tightened into a severe expression. “I sincerely hope thebeeis not deflowering any innocent maidens on his flight…”
“Of course not,” Elizabeth protested. “He is his father’s son and always behaves irreproachably with the ladies.”
“You mean aloof and insulting?” Lydia revived and joined the conversation.
Elizabeth’s ire rose, and she breathed deeply before replying, “Mr Darcy is the best man I know, and I shall not allowanyoneto insult him.”
“Of course he is,” Jane soothed Elizabeth. “The very best that ever lived. As is Mr Bingley,” she added.
“I remember once at the Meryton assembly…” Lydia remarked just as the dinner gong reverberated through the house to warn the tardiest of ladies that the meal was but an hour away. “Oh dear, I must change before dinner,” she cried and hastened out of the parlour.
“Well,” Elizabeth sighed. “At least Fredrick, Robert, Edward, and Henry will be present. Not to forget our baby, Vivienne.” Vivienne was her last child and had come as a surprise four years after Henry. Elysande had been delighted. Initially wanting brothers, she had soon discovered what a nuisance they could be and was heartily sick of them afterthe then two-year-old Henry destroyed her favourite doll. Although there were three years between Elysande and Master Fitzwilliam, the subsequent boys had come as pearls on a string every two years. Vivienne was eight years old and too shy to object when her mother called her baby, but Elizabeth realised that the epithet was no longer applicable.
“We should all follow Lydia’s lead and dress for dinner,” Elizabeth suggested, rising from her seat.
The ladies murmured their assent and scattered to their designated rooms. Darcy was waiting for Elizabeth when she entered the mistress’s chamber. He stood leaning against the door frame on the threshold between their rooms, looking as handsome as ever. The silver streaks in his hair did him no disservice, and his skin was still smooth to touch. Unfortunately, there was no time to tarry, even if the inducement was most tempting. She sat before her dressing table where she could continue ogling her husband in the mirror.
“How do you believe our guests will receive our news?” she enquired as her lady’s maid began removing pins from her hair.
“With exhilaration,” was Darcy’s short reply. Which was nothing short of his own response when she had informed him. He had strutted about the room as proud as a peacock before he had swung her around in sheer joy.
“Or surprise,” Elizabeth added wryly, but Darcy only smiled roguishly.
“I shall return and escort you down”—he looked at his pocket watch—“in fifty minutes.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Exactly fifty minutes later, Darcy knocked on her door, and they descended the stairs arm in arm. Most of their guestshad assembled in the blue parlour awaiting their hosts. To Elizabeth’s relief, Master Fitzwilliam was one of them, and he was surrounded by all the other boys. She was infinitely proud of him, the main attraction amongst the young in the family as he was a droll combination of his mother and father.
“Dinner is served,” the butler announced.
“Shall we?” Darcy offered her his arm and escorted her to one end of the dining table. He helped her into her chair before taking his seat at the opposite end.
The guests followed and sat where they wanted. It was an informal affair with only the closest family present, so the mistress had foregone table placings. Even the children had been included, with the exception of Ellie’s baby, who was already asleep.
When the commotion of scraping chairs and bickering about the best seats had quieted, Darcy rose. All eyes turned to the master of Pemberley.
“I have an announcement to make.” Darcy raised his glass and let his gaze travel to his closest family. “We are to welcome the new year with an addition.” He looked straight at Elizabeth. “To my perfect wife and the boundless joy she provides her humble servant.” He took a swig of his wine and gestured for the soup to be served before he resumed his seat.
Elizabeth met his eyes and tried to convey her gratitude across the table. She raised her glass at him before sipping the wine and watched the brief smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He was obviously fighting a ridiculously proud grin.
“Have you purchased a new horse?” Mr Hughes asked, none-the-wiser.
“Mother!” Elysande exclaimed in a stern voice whilst glancing clandestinely at her husband.
Her boys seemed disappointingly indifferent and attacked the soup as if they had not eaten in days. Vivienne asked Jane’s oldest daughter Felicity what her father had meant.
