Page 55 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
The Nursery
Darcy House
London
The nursery at Darcy House was a large space separated into several rooms, and Elizabeth Darcy could only be grateful given the horde of small children currently in residence.
She sat in a rocking chair, swaying forward and back as her third child, and third son, guzzled eagerly at her breast. He was a vigorous eater, little Josiah, and she was relieved as her second son, Elias, who was now a sturdy two-year-old, had been born a trifle early and had struggled initially to take in nourishment.
Across from her sat Lady Charlotte Marston, who was likewise rocking her own infant son, though in her case, the babe was the heir to the estate after she had borne twin daughters three years previously.
“Sir Quinton and I appreciate your willingness to allow us to stay here,” Charlotte remarked with a smile at her old friend. “I know that Darcy House is large, but it is also rather crowded at the moment.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “It is our pleasure, certainly, and indeed, we are not overly full thanks to Jane and Charles. Their home in Russell Square is almost as large as Darcy House, except that they do not have a ballroom, and Kitty and Lydia are happily settled there along with my mother.”
Charlotte adjusted her baby a trifle and then asked, “How is Mrs. Bennet, Eliza?”
“She is extremely excited,” Elizabeth replied, stroking her own infant’s nearly bald head.
“She had wanted Kitty and Lydia to launch into society a full two years ago and was upset when the decision was made to wait until now. The girls are still not even one and twenty, of course, so my uncles hold the purse strings, and they were firm in their determination that it was wiser to delay. I agree with that entirely, certainly.”
“I have not seen them in some years, but based on your letters, your younger sisters have matured a great deal.”
“They have, without a doubt, and much of their improvement must be ascribed to Miss Fairchild. She has been an absolute treasure. The development of Kitty’s truly remarkable artistic ability and Lydia’s gifting with thread and needle and lace is largely because of her encouragement and guidance.”
“I understand that Lydia sewed and decorated both her gown and Kitty’s for the ball tonight?”
“Yes, and Georgiana’s, too. There is no doubt that Lydia has genuine talent,” Elizabeth said, “but more importantly, my youngest sister has learned to settle down and work on a large task like a ball gown without growing overly distracted, and thus she completed her extensive sewing on those gowns in plenty of time.”
“I look forward to seeing them tonight,” Charlotte replied, lifting her son onto her shoulder and expertly patting him.
“I am glad you will be able to see them, though I confess to being a trifle worried about this evening. This is by far the biggest party we have ever had, and while I am confident the planning is in place, I only hope that all goes well with Lady Aurelia Stanton.”
Lady Charlotte Marston squinted in confusion, and then her expression cleared. “Mary’s sister by marriage? She has birthed only daughters, I believe?”
“Yes, and Richard and Mary are parents of two sons, along with their little Isabella. Naturally, Lady Stanton is worried about losing the earldom to one of Richard’s sons, but there is no reason to be irritable with Mary about it.”
“Of course, people are not always logical, dear Eliza,” Charlotte said comfortably, “but Mary writes me occasionally, and it sounds like her husband will defend her as needed.”
“That is true,” Elizabeth said with a sigh and turned her attention on her four-month-old child, who was now sleeping, his eyes screwed shut with determination. “I had best put this little one in his crib and spend some time with the other children before it is time to dress for dinner.”
Charlotte looked down at her own son and said, “Alexander is nodding off as well.”
The two ladies rose and carefully placed their infants in separate cribs near the window, covered them with blankets, and departed with quiet steps out of the room and down a hall to another room, which faced south, and had large windows through which a spring sun was streaming.
The pair was greeted with screams of joy from their respective offspring, and Elizabeth found herself with her two-year-old son in her arms, while the heir to Pemberley, four-year-old Thomas, wrapped chubby arms around her legs.
“They are pleased to see you!” Mary Fitzwilliam said with a laugh from her seat near a window. She was holding her six-month-old daughter in her arms, while her two sons sat in a corner placing blocks in tall, precarious stacks and then knocking them down with enthusiasm.
Charlotte Marston’s three-year-old daughters were in another corner, playing with a baby house, which contained tiny furniture and dolls.
Elizabeth had been somewhat surprised when her husband had unearthed the baby house from storage and placed it in the nursery.
It had been Georgiana’s, long ago, and Elizabeth had not thought her sons would be interested in it.
This turned out to be untrue, as her boys found pleasure in almost everything, though they were more inclined to throw furniture and dolls than play with them properly like Charlotte’s girls.
Elizabeth looked around at her sister and friend and their respective children and felt a lump rise in her throat.
She was wife to her beloved Fitzwilliam, mother to three healthy children, and mistress of Pemberley and Darcy House.
It was a busy life, but she tried to remember, often, how very blessed she was that six years ago, a party of gentlemen had descended on her home town of Meryton and brought husbands for not only herself, but two of her sisters and her dear friend Charlotte.
***
Darcy House
Later
Elizabeth glanced to her right, where her husband stood looking handsome and self-assured in his dark brown evening coat, and she took a moment to admire the figure he cut.
He had chosen his brown coat this evening to coordinate with her, as she was wearing a brand new silk gown, a dark chocolate color striped in orange and muted green and gold, with net sleeves extending all the way down to her wrists.
It was a matron’s dress, not appropriate for girls just coming out, but it coordinated well with the dresses the girls were wearing.
Elizabeth now looked to her left, where the three unmarried ladies stood in a row.
This was the girls’ first time standing in a receiving line, and it was natural for them to be nervous.
Georgiana, predictably, was visibly anxious, and Kitty was only slightly more self-possessed, but the sparkle in Lydia’s eyes was purely that of excitement.
They all looked very well, as Lydia had done an excellent job on their gowns. She was glowing in a soft orange reminiscent of a sunset, gold embroidery sparkling at décolletage and sleeves, curving in delicate patterns across the bodice.
Kitty beside her, dark-haired with hazel eyes, was equally lovely in a demure forest green.
Not as flamboyant in personality as her younger sister, she had declined the gold embroidery Lydia had offered and chosen a dark fir color that contrasted beautifully with her coloring.
A cream shawl hung negligently over her elbows, and she played nervously with the fringe until Elizabeth caught her eye.
Dropping the fringe, Kitty straightened.
Elizabeth continued her inspection by considering her sister by marriage. Georgiana was strikingly blonde, in contrast to her dark-haired brother. She was positively celestial in her sky blue gown with its ivory net overdress and the single strand of pearls clasped about her neck.
Satisfied, Elizabeth looked back to her beloved husband and nodded with a smile, signaling to him that they were ready to receive their guests.
“Please open the door, Stubbins,” Darcy ordered, and the butler, along with a footman, opened the doors wide to reveal the first guests of the night.
***
Ball Room
Darcy House
Midnight
There was a time when Mrs. Bennet – when she was plain Fanny Gardiner –had been the belle of any ball she attended.
Those days were long past, and she was content to sit with the older matrons at the magnificent ball for her two youngest daughters.
Her chair was comfortable, and the cup of negus in her hand very welcome.
The view was charming, with all the lovely ladies in their finest dresses swirling around and their gentleman partners bedecked in their best finery.
The fire roaring in the massive fireplace at the end of the ballroom, combined with her shawl, was keeping her perfectly comfortable.
Mrs. Bennet discreetly tapped her foot to the lively air being played, while a violinist and flutist gave their all to the performance.
It was a country dance, and Mrs. Bennet remembered it fondly from her own youth, but even should it be permissible for her to stand up with some gentleman, she no longer had the stamina to dance to the very end of it.
Her daughters, however, were dancing with their usual energy.
Elizabeth, still as lively as ever and showing little signs of carrying and bearing her three strapping boys, was leading the dance with admirable grace and aplomb.
How well she looked there on her wealthy husband’s arm!
And dear Jane, just behind her, no longer fresh with the dewy bloom of youth but still beautiful in her matronly elegance, on the arm of Mr. Bingley, who maintained his fine figure and cheerful movements.