Page 36 of One Night with Mr. Darcy
“Surely, he could call me something else,” said Mr. Darcy, looking pained.
“I can’t get him back down if you’re here,” said Elizabeth.
“Can’t I help in some way?” said Mr. Darcy.
“What? With your nurses and advertisements and appealing to your aunt?” Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t know what it is about people as well-connected as you, but it strikes me as the loneliest of existences. I spent all my life sharing a bed with my sister, snuggling close in the cold and sharing secrets under the covers in the summers, and I… well, I think it’s unnatural to sleep alone! I don’t want him shut up by himself in some cold and distant nursery, and I look forward to those hours I spend with him in my arms, and if you want to take him from me—”
“I don’t,” said Mr. Darcy. He bowed his head. “Apologies.”
Willie buried his face against her neck, wrapping his tiny arms tight. He began to moan into her skin. He’d likely been upset by the way she’d been raising her voice.
“I don’t wish to take anything from you,” said Mr. Darcy. “It only seems to me, Elizabeth, that you have a great deal on your shoulders.”
She shook her head. “No, no, I am fine. I know you think I’m incapable of running this household, but Lady Catherine did prepare me—”
“That’s not what I mean. What I am saying is that it’s a lot, too much for any one person. An ailing husband, a vast array of guests, a small son, and the new responsibilities of the estate, not to mention…” He gestured to himself, and she knew that he was referencing the emotional intensity of the situation between them. “I would ease something for you if I could, that is all.”
“It’s not possible,” she said. “But I thank you.”
“I was twelve years old when Georgiana was born,” he said. “I remember a great deal about her babyhood. She was younger than Willie is, but she used to like to sit in a rocking chair and be rocked to sleep, and I used to volunteer to do it when everyone else seemed frazzled. I just liked it, I suppose, holding the baby, my little sister. I don’t know if it would work for Willie, but there’s a rocking chair there.” He nodded with his head. “You could… go into the other room and let down your hair, have a few moments to yourself while I… Could I try?”
She let out a breath. She had not expected the offer to affect her in such a way, but she realized she could not remember the last time that anyone had been concerned about whether or not she was overtaxed. She was used to working herself ragged, and everyone seemed to expect it of her. This gesture of kindness brought tears to her eyes. “He likely won’t let you hold him if I leave the room. He’ll wriggle free—”
“I have strong arms,” said Mr. Darcy, and she remembered his strong arms, remembered being wrapped in them, and she let out a little breathy noise as she crossed to him and held out Willie.
Mr. Darcy held out his arms.
Willie crawled eagerly into them. “Proper papa,” he chirped.
Elizabeth cringed. What were they going todoabout that?
“Fitzwillie,” said Mr. Darcy to his son. “How about you call me, that, hmm? It’s likeyourname.”
“Fitzwillie!” crowed Willie, delighted. He repeated the name again and again, more than three times, a torrent of the word, punctuated by wild giggles. Mr. Darcy seemed to find it funny too. He laughed and tickled Willie’s belly, and Willie beamed at him, quite easily won over.
Elizabeth thought they looked rather perfect together. A lump rose in her throat.
“Off with you, Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy quietly.
She fled. Otherwise, she was going to burst into tears.
CHAPTER TEN
WILLIE BLINKED UPat his father as they settled into the rocking chair.
Mr. Darcy wanted to—selfishly—keep him awake, play with him, talk to him, try to cram all of the two years of separation into this one encounter. But the boy needed rest, and if he did that, he’d be acting against his small son’s interests.
“Sleepy Willie?” Mr. Darcy to the little boy.
“No,” said Willie stoutly. “No, no, no!”
“All right then,” said Mr. Darcy, with a mild shrug. “You don’t have to sleep, then. But you do have to curl up right here on Fitzwillie’s chest and close your eyes. I shall hum to you a little song. You must stay awake through it all, of course, since you are not sleepy.”
“Awake, awake, awake,” said Willie with a little nod. Then he yawned.
Mr. Darcy chuckled. “Not even a little sleepy, I see.”
“No!” said Willie.
