by Anna Harlow
“I warrant this hunger of yours must come very much from all the growth of the past few weeks,” she conceded as she kissed the top of his head. “You are now two inches taller, at the very least. But that is to be expected from an eight year old.”
“And when my sister or brother arrives, they shall not be nearly so tall as me.”
“Did we not go through this when I had James?” she scoffed good-naturedly. “You know that babies begin small and work their way up from there. Though I must confess, I would not mind if this child is a girl. I long to have a daughter of my own, as all my sisters have done before me but one.”
“Do you think Mary shall ever find a husband for herself?” he asked curiously. “I have heard more than one person say that she is ‘on the shelf.’ What does that mean, Mother?”
“It means that people do not think she will ever have a wedding,” said Elizabeth. “Though, really, it is most unkind of them to say so. She is but twenty-seven years old, and my friend Charlotte was that age before she found her husband. So, one never really knows.”
“How can she wish to be single when it is such a source of happiness to have a spouse?” he scoffed, his seven-year-old mind whirring with curiosity. “When I am grown and ready, I shall certainly hope to marry someone as amiable as you.”
“Oh, what a sweetheart you are, my dear boy. But you ought not to seek for a girl like your mother, you should find a girl who suits you for herself alone.”
“And I shall, of course,” he said agreeably. “A girl who suits me for herself and is very much like you.”
“Imp!” she said, laughing. “I think I hear your father coming home. Go and find your brother and take him with you to the foyer. You know how much he loves it when we come down to say hello.”
In the foyer, the current Mrs. Reynolds—the wife of the butler—was already taking Master Darcy’s coat and slipping it onto a hanger. As she did so, the gentleman was removing his gloves, and soon they joined his hat on the armoire shelf.
“Oh, my little family has come to see me,” he said, smiling as he moved to kiss his wife in greeting. “How happy I am to see my brood, most especially that brood which has yet to arrive. Have you been kicked without mercy, my darling, or was this little one mostly quiet?”
“It is a mix of moods, much like your own,” she teased him. “But I must persist in saying, this behavior differs greatly from what has passed before. I am certain this child must be a girl.”
“If she is as beautiful and as sweet as you, dearest Lizzy, I shall be the happiest father who ever lived. I shall quite take after Mr. Bennet and dote upon her every word.”
“Papa, how cruel of you to favor a daughter over your heir!”
Laughing, he caught his son as that young gentleman launched himself upon his person. “No, indeed, had you not heard? Every man’s heir must always take a very special place in his heart. However many children your mother and I may produce, you shall always be the first. And young James here, he shall always be James. You need not worry, for I shall love all of my children dearly.”
“And we shall always believe you to be the best of men,” his son replied, happily snuggling against him.
Elizabeth’s butterflies went into overdrive as she watched them. For a long time she had finally understood—the happier she became, the more they flew. And at the moment, she was the most contented creature in the world.
THE END
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No Eligible Gentleman: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
About the Author
Anna Harlow spent a great deal of her childhood falling in love with history. At first, she was madly in love with Little House on the Prairie, but as soon as she discovered the Regency era around the age of twelve, she was completely hooked.
She tried her hand at painting Regency scenes, but she did so poorly that she knew writing about the era would be her best outlet.
She now resides in a comfortable Montana cabin with her husband, three kids, and about ten cats, and dedicates the greater part of her day recreating Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice for a new generation of readers.
