Posted on Sunday, 24 December 2000

December 22, 1825

Elizabeth Darcy sighed as she once again looked out the window and did not see the carriage carrying her husband and his cousin coming down the London street.

"I wonder what may be keeping them, Georgie," Elizabeth said to her sister by marriage. "It is nearly dark, and the snow is starting to become heavier."

Georgiana Fitzwilliam walked over to her sister and put an arm around her waist. "I'm sure they will be home soon. The snow is probably slowing them." Georgiana took her sister's arm and led her towards a chair. "Sit down. Staying on your feet cannot be good for the baby."

Reluctantly, Elizabeth sat down, and would have gotten up right away again, if it weren't for Georgiana's hand on her shoulder. Suddenly Elizabeth burst out laughing. "You would think that after twelve years of marriage, I would be used to him traveling between London and Pemberley."

"But not always during winter storms."

"No, not always." Elizabeth paused before continuing, "I wish we would have just stayed at Pemberley for Christmas."

"You know that would not have been safe, Elizabeth."

"I know." The Darcys had decided to spend winter in Town that year as the doctor in Derbyshire had died, and Elizabeth, eight months with child, was in need of a doctor. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy decided that in London they would be much closer to a doctor, and they could never turn down their children's pleas to spend at least one Christmas in London.

They Darcys had been settled in their townhouse for two weeks when Mr. Darcy was called back to Pemberley to settle some problems for the winter. Mrs. Darcy did not want him to go, in fear of him not making it back for Christmas, but Mr. Darcy reassured his wife that nothing would not keep him from his family on December twenty-fifth. So with hugs and kisses for his wife and children, Fitzwilliam Darcy set out for Pemberley with his cousin and brother-in-law, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.

Now they were due home, but as the seconds passed there were no signs of the carriage that were to return the husbands to their wives and children. The wives were waiting in the drawing room, but both the Fitzwilliam and Darcy children were too restless to be confined in one room and both ladies were too tired to restrain them, so they allowed the children to play in other rooms once the housekeeper, Mrs. Locke, agreed to watch them.

The ladies had just taken up their embroidery when a racket was heard outside the room. They could hear children arguing and running towards the room they occupied now.

"He is not! The baby isn't coming for another month! Mama said so!" Brooke's voice could be heard.

"But why else would Papa be gone so long?" her twin, Christopher, argued. "I'm telling you, he went to get the baby!"

It was after this statement that the ten-year-old twins burst through the drawing room door followed closely by eight-year-old Thomas Darcy and four-year-old Christine Fitzwilliam, both looking wide-eyed at the oldest children.

Immediately, the twins made their way to their mother, with their younger brother following them and climbing up to sit on the armrest. Left alone, Christine walked to her mother and climbed on her lap.

"Mama, didn't Papa go to get a baby?" Christopher asked.

"No," his mother chuckled. "He only went to finish some business at Pemberley."

"See! I told you!" Brooke stuck out her tongue at her brother.

"I'm gone for a week, and havoc sweeps through this house!" a voice called from the entrance to the room.

"Papa!" the Darcy children squealed as they ran towards their father and surrounded him. Behind him, the colonel sneaked his way into the room to greet his family.

Mr. Darcy greeted his three children one by one and then looked up to see his wife standing quietly, waiting to greet her husband.

"Sorry I'm late," Mr. Darcy said after lightly kissing his wife's lips. "I needed to stop to pick up a surprise for you."

"Does that surprise have to do with what you are hiding behind your back?" Elizabeth's eyes sparkled.

"Maybe." Mr. Darcy smiled mischievously before bring his arm out in front, holding a red rose. "There are more of these being put into a vase as we speak."

"Oh, Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth sighed, taking the rose and sniffing it. "You still spoil me after all these years."

"Why shouldn't I? You deserve it."

"Thank you," his wife whispered before leaning up to give her husband another kiss.

An "eww" from the children caused them to part and laugh.

Christopher walked up to his father, took his hand, and said very seriously, "At least when you were gone, we didn't have to see that!"

Supper was a lively affair. The children were excited that their fathers were back and that it was almost Christmas, and the wives were happy that their husbands were back, especially with Elizabeth's expected birth soon at hand. Adding to the excitement, Elizabeth's sister and her husband, the Bingleys, were expected with their children within the next couple of days.

Soon after the Darcy children were put to bed, Colonel Fitzwilliam made an excuse out of traveling all day and excused him and his family to make their way back to their townhouse. After seeing the Fitzwilliam family out, Mr. Darcy offered his arm to his wife and they climbed the stairway to their bedchamber.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam, I am so glad you are home. I was getting worried that the storm would delay you inevitably," Elizabeth stated as she laid her head on her husband's shoulder.

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away," Mr. Darcy replied while kissing the top of her head. "You should know that. What has gotten you so worried?"

"I don't know. I just have this feeling that the baby is going to come soon."

Darcy stopped suddenly and looked at his wife with a worried expression on his face. "You're only eight months along! Are you having pains?"

"No, not yet," Elizabeth continued walking to the bedchamber and entered it. "I just have a feeling, which could be just a bit of nonsense." Elizabeth sighed. "Anyway, I am just glad you are back home with me and the children."

"So am I." Mr. Darcy kissed his wife's forehead. "Now go get ready for bed. I left a surprise for you in your dressing room."

At the sound of a surprise, Elizabeth's eyes lit up like a little child's and she hurried her way to her dressing room. On the vanity, she found a piece of sheet music. Music? There must be a special reason why he thought this particular piece a surprise.

She quickly donned her nightgown and entered the main bedchamber, music still in hand.
She settled in the big bed and began to look over the music. She had never heard the song before, but Elizabeth liked the words, and the music looked like it played out beautifully.

"I actually found that in a pile of old music in Pemberley. The words reminded me of our first Christmas together," Mrs. Darcy heard her husband say from the door connecting the bedchamber to his dressing room.

"It's a wonder that Georgie or I haven't played it already. I thought with both of us combined, we have at least attempted to play every piece of music in the music room," Elizabeth chuckled.

"So did I." Her husband walked to the bed and climbed in beside her. "When I found it and read the words, memories of how lucky I felt that first year that you married me."

"Only the first year?" Elizabeth raised her right eyebrow.

"Well, you know, the novelty of having you with me wore off after a while. You just became that woman who was always with me," Mr. Darcy teased.

Mrs. Darcy hit her husband with a pillow. "You are incorrigible!"

Darcy hugged his laughing wife from behind and kissed her neck lovingly. "That music is for a man and a lady to sing."

"Yes?"

"I could probably learn that part and sing it with you," Mr. Darcy suggested sheepishly.

"You? Sing?" she questioned incredulously before bursting out in another round of giggles.

"And what is so funny about that, Mrs. Darcy?"

His wife only continued to laugh.

Elizabeth found time to learn the song after breakfast. The children were with their governess and Mr. Darcy was finishing some business in his study.

The melody wasn't hard to take to, and before long, Elizabeth could sing the melody and play her own accompaniment. The melody was beautiful, and as she sang, the words brought back memories of her memories of the first year of marriage as it had done to her husband. As she sang it through one time, she found herself pausing in the middle of the song to enjoy the memories with a slight smile on her face.

"Is my taste in music really so bad that you can't even play through the song once?"

"Fitzwilliam! You scared me!"

"I'm sorry, my love, but I was done with my business and your playing could be heard in my study."

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"No, no," Mr. Darcy soothed as he took his place besides his wife on the piano bench. "I enjoyed it very much."

"Are you ready to sing?" Elizabeth asked playfully.

Her husband chuckled, "No, I don't think so. It would probably ruin your beautiful job in singing it. I don't even know if I can sing."

"All right then," Elizabeth smiled as she began to sing.

Quietly, the Darcy children filed into the music room where they found their mother singing with their father sitting next to her. Brooke was the first one in the room, and she immediately walked to her father and rested her cheek against his shoulder. Thomas climbed on the other side of the bench next to his mother, and Christopher did the same thing to his mother that his twin did to his father.

Silently, they listened to their mother's beautiful voice.

At the end of the song, Brooke sighed. "That was so beautiful."

"Too bad you could never play like that!" Christopher provoked.

"Christopher that is not nice! Say you're sorry," his mother reprimanded.

"Sorry," he mumbled, but said louder, "Truthfully, Mama, that was beautiful."

"Thank you, my little loves," Elizabeth smiled at her children. "Now, how did you manage to escape from Miss.... oh!" Elizabeth's voice faded as a pain hit her abdomen.

Mr. Darcy immediately became alert. "Are you all right, Lizzy?"

"I don't know," she breathed. "But I think the little one may be coming soon."

Within minutes, the whole household was thrown into chaos. Like the other two births, Mr. Darcy turned the house upside down in rousing all the servants to attention and preparation.

Once Mrs. Darcy was in her chamber and the doctor was called for, along with the colonel for "moral support," Mr. Darcy sat on a chair outside his wife's chambers, ready for a long wait.

Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were in the hallway, still waiting after several hours. Darcy sat in the same seat he began in, head against the hall, and his eyes closed, while the colonel was standing against the wall, wearily watching his cousin.

"Why is it they make us men stay out here waiting in suspense when the woman I love is in pain right now?"

"I don't know. I suppose because it's a woman's business."

"A woman's business! Ha! Who's the one who made this baby?"

"You may want to be quiet, cousin," the colonel laughed. "You never know which child is hiding around the corner, and I doubt you want to give them an early lesson in the birds and the bees."

Darcy managed a little chuckle, but it quickly turned into a sob-like sound as he rubbed his hand down his face. "Richard, it's always the same. I survived through two other births, but it doesn't take away the worry I have for Lizzy or the child."

"I doubt it will ever change, Darce."

"Damn it! Why doesn't anybody come out to tell me what's happening."

"I don't know."

Two Hours Later

"Mr. Darcy, sir." Darcy looked up from the book he was pretending to read. Forty-five minutes earlier, his cousin suggested that the move to someplace other than the hall. At first, Darcy refused to, but ended up giving in.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Can I speak to you privately?"

Darcy's face paled at the doctor's request, but nodded to his cousin to leave. "What news?" he asked once the cousin had left.

"I have some serious news, and I shall be blunt." Darcy nodded. "Your wife has given birth to a daughter, but there were some complications. Your daughter may not live all that long, but there is always hope. If she survives through the day tomorrow, she will most likely survive."

Darcy nodded again. "Can I see my wife and child?"

"Yes, you could."

As soon as the words were out of the doctor's mouth, Darcy ran up the stairs and into his wife's chambers. When he entered, he saw Elizabeth in the bed with her eyes closed, and a small bundle next to her. Quietly, her husband pulled a armchair next to her and sat down, looking at his wife.

Gently, he touched her cheek, causing her eyes to flutter open.

"Shh, my love. Go back to sleep."

"I really wasn't sleeping," she whispered. "I was waiting for you. Have you met your daughter?"

"No, I haven't," he choked while reaching out to take his daughter and hold her. When he looked down, he found the tiny baby to be sleeping peacefully. The way she looked now, it seemed like she was perfectly fine. But her father knew that babies weren't supposed to come early.

When he realized how precarious the situation was, tears silently slid down his cheeks. He couldn't think of what it would be like to lose a child, and he didn't want to find out.

"Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth whispered, and her husband tore his eyes away from his daughter to look at his weary wife. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, my love. It's not your fault. You couldn't help it."

A yawn interrupted what Elizabeth was about to say, so Darcy quietly said. "Don't speak. You have had enough trials today." Softly, he put his little daughter down next to his wife, and kissed both of their foreheads.

"I love you, Fitz."

"I love you, too, Lizzy."

Mr. Darcy stayed for an hour next to his wife, holding her hand. Remembering that he hadn't seen his children in a couple of hours, he felt guilty, and quickly left to go find them. As he closed the door to his wife's chamber, he heard a soft, "Papa?"

Turning to see his daughter, he smiled. "Yes, Brooke?"

"Is Mama going to be okay?" Her father nodded. "Do I have a young brother or sister?" Darcy's heart broke at the hopeful look in his daughter's eye, and he silently slid down against the door, to sit on the floor.

"Yes, you do. But she may not survive."

As he said these words, he realized for a second time that night that the little bundle that he just held may not survive, and he started crying again, something his daughter never saw him do.

For a moment, Brooke just stood there, not knowing what to do with a crying papa. Then, she suddenly knew to hug him and kiss his cheek. "Don't cry, Papa. I don't like to see you cry."

Her father wrapped his arms around his daughter's tiny frame and pulled her closer, thankful for the comfort his young daughter gave him.

Christmas Eve

The next day was a trying one. Early in the morning, the little baby was baptized Grace Ann Darcy in preparation of her death.

But as the day wore on, hope burned brighter.

Darcy spent most of the day with his wife and youngest daughter. Georgiana and her husband came to their townhouse again, mainly to watch the Darcy children, but every once in a while, Mrs. Fitzwilliam would bring one of the children in to see their mother.

When the Bingleys arrived to meet the serious situation, the first words that Mrs. Bingley said about Grace were those of hope. "Lizzy, I really think she'll survive. After all," she attempted to bring humor into it, "she looks like she has both yours and Fitzwilliam's stubbornness."

During every one of these visits, little Grace was still alive, and even appeared to grow stronger; even the doctor smiled as he checked up on her late in the afternoon.

However, he warned, "Don't get too excited yet. It's not tomorrow yet."

But the Darcy family refused to be pessimistic.

Christmas Day

The sunlight shining through the window woke Darcy up early the next morning. Immediately remembering why that day was so crucial, he jumped out of his chair to find his wife's bed empty.

Nervously, he walked the length of the room to the door that connected it to the nursery. Slowly, he entered the room to find his crying wife sitting in the rocking chair, holding Grace.

"Oh, Lizzy," he whispered, and practically ran to kneel at his wife's side. He didn't want to look down at the bundle, afraid to see a body instead of a baby, but finally, he did.

What he saw made him cry for what seemed like the millionth time in the past few days.

For what he saw was a wide-eyed Grace holding her mother's finger in her tiny hand.

"She's smiling."

Elizabeth laughed at her husband. "You have always said this, even though you know very well babies this young can't smile."

Mr. Darcy looked up to meet his wife's smiling face. "I still think she's smiling," he grinned before leaning in to kiss his wife.

Looking down again to stroke his youngest daughter's cheek, he softly began to sing.

Softly, Elizabeth's mezzo-soprano voice sang the part that her husband couldn't remember.

Her husband joined in again to finish the song that would always describe what so many of the little gifts would mean to them.

* "The Gift" by Jim Brickman

The End.