Estranged, page 14
Having summoned the constable, Darcy was well within his rights to act as he intended. By her demeanor, the woman, presumably Agatha’s sister, knew it too.
Darcy stepped forward, his eyes locked on the bundle in the woman’s arms. “We are his family. My wife and I have come to bring him home.”
Elizabeth shook with emotion as Darcy lifted the baby into his arms. Trembling, Elizabeth folded back the blanket, then the garment, revealing the port wine birthmark she knew so well. A sob caught in her throat as she accepted the child in her arms. Elizabeth’s eyes traveled from her son’s face to her husband’s and then back to her son’s, further confirming what she already knew in her heart to be true. The long-awaited reunion of mother and child had finally unfolded, and it was indeed everything that she thought it would be.
“My boy... my darling boy...” Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks as she cradled him fiercely. The babe fussed, then nestled into her warmth, as if recognizing his true mother.
The other woman began to wail pitifully at the loss of the child she had cared for, and Elizabeth’s heart ached for her grief even amidst her profound joy. Uncontrolled wailing from across the room was too much for her to bear because the heartbreak of a mother losing her child had been her constant companion for months. She could not wait to get away from the devastation that was sure to follow, having noticed the constable enter the tiny dwelling.
As Darcy bundled his precious child and proceeded to the carriage, she pressed a small purse into the weeping woman’s hands. “For you, for your kindness to our child,” Elizabeth said. The woman could only nod gratefully through her tears.
Once safe and settled in the Darcy carriage, Elizabeth cradled her son to her bosom with her husband by her side, his arm resting on the back of the seat. Darcy gazed lovingly at his wife and child, his heart overflowing, as he gently squeezed Elizabeth’s shoulder.
Elizabeth’s mind wandered to the poor woman who had cared for her son, mistakenly believing him to be her child. She also thought of the young woman who had been the means of wounding so many—including her own kin. “What will happen to her?” Elizabeth asked.
“Her?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Agatha...”
“Elizabeth, my love, I know how you would wish it to be otherwise, but Agatha’s fate does not lie in our hands but in those of the law. How can she but face the consequences of her actions?”
As much as Elizabeth might have wished for leniency, the scars from her own broken heart were too fresh. She was loath to let her child go even to be fed when they reached the changing station.
The wet nurse, who had traveled with them, stood at the foot of the stairs awaiting the Darcys’ descent from their carriage. “Mrs. Darcy, might I assist with the child?”
A reassuring look in Mr. Darcy’s eyes gave Elizabeth to know no further harm would come to their son. Tempering her protective instinct, Elizabeth said, “Yes, of course.” She placed a gentle kiss on her son’s brow before releasing him to the nurse’s care.
Surrendering herself into Mr. Darcy’s warm embrace, she whispered, “I cannot bear to be parted with him so soon. Do you suppose—”
Darcy placed a gentle kiss on his wife’s forehead, and summoning her eyes to meet his, he knowingly nodded.
Elizabeth was gone directly.
When, at last, their journey brought them back home to Pemberley, the wet nurse stood waiting by the carriage, ready to take the baby to the nursery. Elizabeth reluctantly allowed the nurse to take her son, placing a feather-light kiss on his head before passing him into her arms.
Unable to bear the separation, Elizabeth turned pleading eyes to Darcy, who nodded in understanding and dismissed the nurse with assurances they would summon her later. Clutching her child close once more, Elizabeth carried him up to the nursery with Darcy’s steady hand guiding her.
As they entered the nursery, Elizabeth could not help but marvel at the beauty that surrounded her, for the housekeeper had gone above and beyond to arrange for a different room to house the young master. It was spacious, with large windows that let in the warm afternoon sun, illuminating the delicate lace curtains and plush furnishings. The room was adorned with paintings and sculptures, and a beautiful crib, made of the finest wood and adorned with intricate carvings, stood in the center, waiting to receive its occupant.
“I hope you like it,” Darcy murmured in her ear, his hands lingering on her shoulder from behind.
Her eyes filled with emotion, Elizabeth turned to face him. “It is beautiful. Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”
Elizabeth settled into the rocking chair by the window, her son nestled contentedly in her arms. She softly hummed a lullaby as she rocked him.
Darcy knelt beside them, one hand resting lightly on his son’s back, his eyes shining with unrestrained joy as he took in the sight of his wife and child reunited. He could not help but feel grateful for the moment.
A gentle rapping at the door announced the arrival of the wet nurse, but Elizabeth could not yet bring herself to part with her son. Sensing his wife’s trepidation, Darcy once again sent the nurse away with the reassurance that they would call when needed.
As time wore on, Elizabeth’s arms began to ache from holding the baby, yet she was unwilling to lay her slumbering child in his crib. Sensing her fatigue, Darcy tenderly removed the child from her arms before cradling him in his own and placing him into the little bed, tucking him in tightly.
Despite her exhaustion, Elizabeth pulled a chair over to the crib side, unwilling to leave the nursery even to rest. “Just a quarter-hour more,” she promised.
But Darcy knew better. He reached for a nearby blanket and tenderly draped it over her shoulders, resolving to stay by her side. “Let us both remain,” he whispered and then placed a gentle kiss on Elizabeth’s cheek. Together, they would keep a loving watch over their precious bundle, knowing that he was safe and where he belonged.
Entwining themselves in a warm embrace, they hovered protectively over the sleeping bundle of joy. His soft breaths and peaceful slumber brought a feeling of comfort and contentment, signifying all was precisely how it was meant to be.
Chapter 27
A FAMILY REUNITED
Warm sunlight filtered into the nursery at Pemberley, softly illuminating the face of the slumbering infant. Elizabeth sat nearby, her knitting forgotten in her lap as she simply observed her son—the child she had fought so fiercely to recover.
It had been nearly a fortnight since that miraculous day when they found him, and still, Elizabeth often woke believing it all a dream. But the steady rhythm of his breathing always reassured her this was real.
With quiet footsteps, Darcy slipped into the room and stood behind his wife’s chair. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “How fares young Master Darcy today?”
Elizabeth tilted her head back to smile up at him. “He is perfectly content, though I confess I have done more staring than knitting with my time. I still cannot quite trust he will remain if I glance away.”
Darcy gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Our son is home, thanks to you. Your perseverance gave me faith when I faltered. You are the heart of this family, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth felt tears prick her eyes. The memory of their agonizing estrangement had receded but not fully faded. Each day, their rapport grew stronger, yet remnants of the past still lingered.
Sensing her change in mood, Darcy knelt before her. “What is it, my love?” Elizabeth worried at a loose thread in her gown, gathering her thoughts.
“I find myself overwhelmed at times with all we endured. Those lost months can never be recovered.” She placed Darcy’s hand over her heart. “I know we must look forward now, but the past forever shaped us.”
Darcy bowed his head regretfully. “You speak rightly. I failed you when you needed faith most. We can only endeavor to rebuild what was broken.” Lifting her hand, he kissed it solemnly. “I swear to you, I will not waver again.”
Leaning in, he brushed a gentle kiss against her lips. Darcy took comfort in the prospect of a second chance—not just for their son, but for their family.
The child stirred. Darcy lifted his son gently from the cradle and brushed a kiss over his tiny head before sitting beside Elizabeth.
“I can scarcely believe so many months have passed since his dramatic arrival,” he marveled. Elizabeth smiled wryly.
“And what eventful first months of life he has had.” Smoothing the baby’s fine hair, her expression grew thoughtful. “He will need a proper name soon. We cannot keep calling him only ‘the babe’ or ‘my son.’”
Darcy nodded. “You are right, of course. Have you given thought to a name?” He watched fondly as his heir gummed his fist, cooing.
“I confess I have not looked beyond the joy of having him safely returned,” Elizabeth admitted. She studied her child, who gazed back with eyes as bright and lively as her own. “He should have a strong name to fit his spirit. Perhaps something that honors his paternal line, yet nothing too stiff,” she teased.
Darcy pondered her words carefully before suggesting, “Or perhaps his maternal line—what say you of Bennet?” He tested it out. “Young Bennet Darcy.”
Elizabeth could not help but recall a letter she received from her father—one that she had shared with her husband—and wonder if it had been the impetus of her husband’s suggestion. She could recite it by heart:
My dearest Lizzy,
What a blessing indeed that my grandson has been found! It is a miracle, and I am filled with joy that he has been returned to the bosom of his family. I can scarcely begin to express the relief I feel knowing that he is safe and happy. But this blessed event has also made me reflect on my shortcomings as a father.
I have failed to be an adequate father for my daughters, and it has taken the return of my grandson for me to see how badly I have neglected their guidance and education. In light of this realization, I now strive to spend more time with Kitty and Mary, accompanying them on walks and engaging in meaningful conversations about their interests.
I fear my past shortcomings resulted to the detriment of your husband as well. It pains me to think how quickly and harshly I judged Mr. Darcy without considering his character or intentions.
That is to say nothing of my failure to give him his proper due in recovering our Lydia and salvaging our family’s reputation.
My ignorance had blinded me from seeing the truth about him, that he was a gentleman of integrity and honor who only sought the happiness of my daughter.
I am deeply ashamed for mistreating the man who has brought such joy into your life. He has been undeserving of all the judgment that I had leveled against him.
How can I not but admire a gentleman who has brought such happiness to my favorite daughter’s life? If only I had seen it earlier.
And so, filled with guilt made clear by the happy union of yourself and Mr. Darcy, along with the safe return of your child, I am eager to make amends by offering my sincerest apology. I owe him much gratitude for having brought joy into my family’s life, and it is nothing less than what he deserves.
Elizabeth’s smile blossomed. “Bennet Darcy...I quite like it.” She lifted the baby playfully. “What say you, my sweet? Are you a Bennet?” The babe gurgled, eliciting chuckles from his parents.
Darcy embraced his beloveds, feeling their presence infusing his soul with immeasurable joy. His son—Bennet—yawned in Elizabeth’s arms, and Darcy’s heart hummed with deep gratitude. This joyful bundle of innocence embodied such fortitude and strength—a new beginning.
He marveled at how idyllic it all felt. After the painful estrangement of the past, their easy companionship was such a blessing.
Later that day, as the little boy dozed on his mother’s chest, Darcy reached for Elizabeth’s hand, his voice growing serious. “Thank you for this gift, for never surrendering to despair even when I had given up hope when it mattered most.”
She squeezed his hand tightly. “We both faltered, but love prevailed, did it not?” Leaning her head on Darcy’s shoulder as their son slept peacefully between them, Elizabeth’s spirit was overwhelmed with a sense of deep satisfaction. She had finally found the happiness she had always longed for, and nothing could take that away from her.
In that quiet moment, with the sound of their son’s soft breathing soothing their spirits, Darcy and Elizabeth knew that they were exactly where they were meant to be. With abiding devotion and dedication to each other, they knew that their little family would thrive, and they would continue to protect and cherish each other forevermore.
Chapter 28
A JOYFUL CELEBRATION
A multitude of crystals sparkled, filling the Pemberley ballroom with warmth and joy. Guests were gathered from across Derbyshire to celebrate young Bennet Darcy’s second birthday, including the Fitzwilliams, who were now frequent guests owing to Pemberley’s proximity to Matlock. Miss Darcy was among the guests as well. The Collinses traveled from Kent, thanks to Lady Catherine’s benevolence in allowing them to journey in her caravan of fine carriages. For the first time, Bennet was introduced to his little cousin, Thomas, another young heir apparent.
Motherhood had blessed Elizabeth’s dearest sister, Jane, with a decidedly distinct air—no longer merely contented but happy!
The Bennets particularly were in attendance—the first of many such visits Elizabeth supposed once her father had discovered Pemberley’s library. Her mother and two younger sisters’ exuberance upon their arrival days ago still rang in her ears.
“Oh, what a fine place Pemberley is,” Mrs. Bennet had exclaimed. “Why, it is fit for a lord! Oh, if only my dear Lydia and her handsome husband could have come! To have all five of my girls in such a place as this at the same time. What a delightful prospect indeed.”
Exaltations of all the handsome men whom she would meet came tumbling out in bursts of enthusiasm from Kitty’s lips, and to Elizabeth’s surprise, her sister Mary could not but agree.
The soft clinking of glasses and the melodic laughter of couples glided through the air as ladies in shimmering silk gowns and gentlemen in tailored coats leisurely promenaded around the grand ballroom.
Pausing to take in the festivities, Elizabeth smiled as her husband and son approached. “You have truly outdone yourself planning this affair, my love. Bennet is quite the honored young gentleman,” Darcy said, handing him off to her.
Elizabeth smiled up at him. “Every good society mama wants a lavish birthday celebration for her child, does she not?” Surveying the festive scene, Elizabeth was satisfied with her accomplishments. “I confess I took great pleasure in arranging the music, desserts, and decorations.”
Holding their son, she adjusted Bennet’s collar. She had selected his outfit carefully—a fine new velvet waistcoat embroidered with the Darcy family crest. Elizabeth had tried to tame his unruly hair earlier in the day, meticulously arranging each strand. Now, as she looked at him, she noticed how some rebellious locks had already escaped, giving him a charmingly disheveled appearance.
“But the true joy is having our son here to enjoy it,” said Mr. Darcy.
When Bennet scampered off again, Elizabeth and Darcy had a moment to themselves. Gazing tenderly at his wife, Darcy said, “I know how much you wished the Gardiners could be here.”
Elizabeth smiled wistfully. “Yes, but Mr. Gardiner’s business affairs prevented it. Still, they were the first relations to visit Pemberley after Bennet’s recovery. They already feel like part of Pemberley. I will always cherish their support after...” A shadow crossed her face. “Well, after everything that happened.”
Darcy squeezed her hand supportively. “The past is behind us now, thanks to you, my love.”
Moments later, Bennet returned to tug at his father’s coattails. The musicians had struck up a lively tune, making Bennet bounce in time. “Dance!” he demanded, grabbing his parents’ hands. Laughing, they swept their birthday boy into an impromptu spin around the polished floor as the other dancers smiled indulgently.
Darcy’s strong arms cradled the boy while Elizabeth held his hands, all three moving in joyful abandon. In moments like this, their painful past seemed but a distant shadow.
When the music concluded, Bennet wriggled to be put down and immediately toddled off to examine the towering cake. He swiped a dollop of icing despite Elizabeth’s gentle scolding, making Darcy chuckle as he drew her close. “You have brought me such joy,” he told her earnestly.
Darcy brushed his lips tenderly against her temple. “I never fathomed such happiness was possible,” he murmured against her hair. “You have blessed me beyond measure, my love.”
Elizabeth curved her hand along his jaw, meeting his fervent gaze. “We have been blessed indeed.”
An impatient cough interrupted their tender reverie. They turned in surprise to see Lady Catherine standing stiffly behind them. Upon her arrival at Pemberley, each had wondered if the other had extended the invitation to her, but as she came all that way in the hopes of extending an olive branch, neither would complain.
“Lady Catherine,” Darcy said. “I pray you are enjoying the festivities.”
Lady Catherine smiled awkwardly. “As much as I can, given that my invitation must have been waylaid. But if his own great aunt is not present during such an auspicious occasion, what must the child think when he is old enough to comprehend the import of my place in his life?”
Darcy nodded. “You are always welcome here.”
After a hesitant smile, Lady Catherine glided off to try to engage her young great-nephew, who had ceased his hectic pace long enough to sit and have cake with his second cousin Anne.
