Page 129 of The Crown’s Gift

Anne opened her eyes. Sir Thomas bent close.

"Your grandfather once saved a king who neglected to inspect a sugar plum for its stone," he told her. "You owe your existence to the error."

Darcy glanced toward Elizabeth. "Is this the family account?"

"The official history is worse."

Georgiana came next, crying before she reached the bed. Mrs Reynolds permitted Lady Matlock in the morning and refused Lady Catherine until afternoon. When Lady Catherine finally saw the child, she examined her with grave attention.

"She has Darcy eyes."

"She has a baby's eyes," Mrs Reynolds said from the hearth.

Lady Catherine looked offended. Elizabeth concealed a smile.

"Anne is a proper name," Lady Catherine continued.

"We thought so."

She touched one finger to the baby's hand. Anne gripped it.

Lady Catherine's expression softened before she could prevent it.

"A daughter may be useful," she said.

Elizabeth thought of Anne de Bourgh finding her voice. "More than useful."

Lady Catherine met her eyes and, after a moment, inclined her head.

Letters flew south. Lady Bennet's reply began with relief, continued through advice, and ended with plans to reach Pemberley before Anne's first month despite every road she had condemned.

Sir Thomas remained for three weeks. He held Anne each morning while Darcy attended estate business and Elizabeth slept. He wrote to the King though no answer was expected.

The second life arising from your gift has begun another, he wrote. Her name is Anne Elizabeth Darcy. She is loud, determined, and very small. You would approve.

* * *

Lady Bennet reached Pemberley before Anne was six weeks old and rearranged the nursery within two hours.

Mrs Reynolds moved the chair back after dinner. The two women thereafter respected one another as worthy opponents.

Jane and Bingley arrived with Emma for the christening. Mary came with Mr Avery and an engagement ring. Kitty brought drawings. Lydia brought three trunks, though invited for a fortnight.

Pemberley had never held so much Bennet noise.

Darcy loved it for four days, endured it for three, and took Sir Thomas fishing on the eighth though the stream had nearly frozen.

"You require quiet," Sir Thomas observed.

"I require perspective."

"The distinction escapes me."

"Elizabeth claims I should admit when overwhelmed."

"She is right. Do not tell her I agreed without qualification."

They returned to find Lady Bennet directing Christmas greenery in the hall and Lydia standing on a ladder.