Page 93 of The Widower of Pemberley

Darcy felt an intense wave of affection and delight towards his wife.

Spurred by an instinct that he could not quite explain to himself, he grabbed one of the cushions from the window seat, took off his shoes and coat, and lay down on the floor next to the bed.

He had been getting an hour or two less sleep than usual nearly every night for the last week, so despite the discomfort of thesituation, he fell asleep nearly immediately—only to be awoken by a child jumping on his stomach.

“Why are you sleeping here, Papa?”

The dawn light streamed through the window.

Emily giggled. “Silly Papa. Don’t you know that you are supposed to sleep in your own bed?”

“Oh,” Darcy said infauxconfusion. “I am?”

She bounced up and down on his belly. “You are! You are! You are!”

Elizabeth stirred and yawned.

She looked at him through bleary eyes. “Darcy?”

“I…um…” He could not quite explain, not even to himself, the impulse that had led him to decide to sleep on the floor of the nursery.

His hips and back were rather sore now.

“Papa slept on the floor!” Emily said. “Isn’t that silly? He belongs in his bed.”

Elizabeth smiled at Darcy with a brilliant, sunny smile. “Sometimes,” Elizabeth said, “such things can be disregarded.”

“But it’s arule.”

Darcy stood up and shook out some, but not all, of the cricks in his back. He picked up Emily, who coughed after she was settled in his arms and moaned, “Ill!”

“Not so bad as yesterday. You barely feel hot,” Darcy replied.

He yawned. He was still quite sleepy. Emily had woken him rather early for a man who had not retired until more than an hour past midnight.

Elizabeth yawned with him.

Darcy smiled at her. She was lovely in the night gown that she wore. “You look like you need more sleep. Let us take you to your bed.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, Emily will want me now.”

“Miss Lizzy always spends the morning with me!” Emily said cheerfully. “I always go to her room and wake her up because she likes to sleep too late, and she would miss breakfast, then.”

“You let Emily wake you up every morning?” Darcy asked with some surprise.

“I promised to be there for her, always, as her mother.” Elizabeth smiled at Emily. “And she is quite pleasant in the morning.”

The girl preened.

Darcy then asked, “After being awake late each night for the past week?”

“Do not fret. I am well. I know that it is my duty to be present for such events, and to meet your friends, and to always be available when you wish to spend time with me, and to…and to…I am well. I shall succeed in the duties that I have taken on.”

“Jove,” Darcy said, struck strongly by the notion. “You are nothing like Mary was.”

Emily suddenly said, “My nose is wet.”

Darcy picked up his coat from the ground where he had left it next to his shoes and pulled a handkerchief from it. He tried to hand it to Emily.