For several minutes, I wrestled with this new information. What should I not give for the chance to meet her, the child growing within my beautiful wife? But I must not waste time on wishful ruminations. My eyes moistened as I conjured an image of Elizabeth holding a young girl—a cherub with the fine eyes, bright smile, and vigorous spirit of her mother.
I removed a new sheet of paper, dipped my pen in the ink, and began a new missive.
To my dearest Daughter—
I persevered in my purpose despite the recurring tremor in my hand that forced me to mar the letter with an occasional blot.
The completed epistle to my daughter went into my desk with the two I had written to Elizabeth and Bennet. I pushed the drawer shut and paused at the soft rap on the door.
A moment later, the door opened to reveal a beaming, radiant Elizabeth. Her dark eyes danced with an impish gleam. “So, this is where you have been hiding. It is time for dinner, my love. Since this is my birthday celebration, I expect you would not wish to miss it.”
The sight of her acted as a balm to my spirits, and I approached her. Did she have any notion that she carried a child in her womb? Her alluring form revealed no sign of weight gain, but a touch more colour than usual covered her cheeks. “Indeed, I should not want to miss the event that Mrs. Reynolds and I fussed over for countless hours.” My lips found hers for a lingering kiss.
She pulled away from me, grinning. “Be careful, or you may raise my expectations to soaring heights with such remarks and find me impossible to please.”
“I have no doubt I shall satisfy you, my love, if not at dinner, then later, when we are alone.” My index finger travelled in an unhurried motion along the top edge of her gown.
With a soft gasp, she covered my hand with her own, halting my movement. “That is enough, you teasing man!” She raised an eyebrow and motioned with her head towards the open door of the study.
I removed my gaze from her perforce. John walked past the doorway, turning his head to conceal his smile.
“Now my expectations are higher than ever.” Her low, sultry voice heightened my senses.
With several deep breaths, I calmed my racing heart. For the entirety of the evening, I would be taunted by the enticingpresence of my beautiful sprite of a wife, counting the minutes until we could be alone. I took her hand and wrapped it around my arm as we quit the room. “I shall endeavour to rise to the occasion.”
Elizabeth
We halted at the entrance to the drawing-room, where a beautiful arrangement of ribbons, fabrics, and flowers in shades of yellow, blue, and green adorned the space. Our maids must have spent all afternoon in the endeavour.
Fitzwilliam’s head bent near mine. “I hope you approve of the decorations.”
“Yes, very much. The room is beautiful and festive.”
The corners of his mouth edged up. “Mrs. Reynolds and I spent an afternoon inspecting trunks of ornamentation used for parties in years past. We used a similar theme in the dining room.”
“Thank you, I could not be more pleased.”
“You are more than welcome.”
We continued forwards to greet our guests. I informed them of the garden party planned for tomorrow, an outdoor affair with plentiful food and planned activities in which most of our neighbours would attend.
The dinner meal featured my favourite dishes, including salad with orange-flavoured dressing, Bath buns, carrots, potatoes, and slow-roasted chicken. I sent many warm looks to my husband, seated at the opposite end of the table, leaving him in no doubt of the delight I took in my food.
Seated at my left, Papa regaled me with the latest antics of my former neighbours and tenants. Graham sat on my right, and his usual dedication to the fare left me free to banter with my father.
At the end of the meal, Fitzwilliam announced there would not be a separation of sexes, and we should return to the drawing-room. Champagne, apple tarts, and iced lemon cake would be served there, and Bennet and I should open birthday presents.
Lady Catherine
I moved alongside Anne, who took floundering steps from the dining-parlour. “What is amiss?”
She halted and glanced my way. “I do not have gifts for Elizabeth or Bennet, and I suspect you do not either.”
“Of course not. What does that matter? Most people do not bother with birthday gifts. It is a whimsical custom.”
“Still, if I had known of this celebration, I should have purchased gifts for them.”
“Never mind. Let us join the others.”
