Disclaimer: I own nothing- it's all Jane Austen, whom I love and admire.
Author's Note: This was actually an assignment in my AP Lang. and Comp. class from last year. All of my friends and I perked up when our teacher assigned us to write a "ghost chapter" after we had read Pride and Prejudice, and all of us (nearly at the same time) said, "You mean fanfiction!" and here's the end product. Hope you enjoy.
Elizabeth Darcy was seated upon the settee inside the drawing room when the housekeeper came to fetch her. Mrs. Darcy looked up from her book for a moment when the maid entered the room. The older woman told the mistress of the house that she had two visitors, a Mr. and Mrs. Wickham. Elizabeth rose quickly, ready to welcome her sister and brother-in-law to Pemberly, for it was to be their first visit there.
"Tell Mr. Darcy of our guests," said Elizabeth to the housekeeper. "And bring little Fitzwilliam to me so that he may meet his aunt and uncle."
The housekeeper did as she was bid to do, and Mrs. Darcy left the drawing room for the sitting room, the nearest room to the front entrance of Pemberly. There she discovered her relatives, and greeted her younger sister with a warm embrace before turning to her brother-in-law.
"Mr. Wickham, such a pleasure to see you again," she said with a quaint smile, extending her hand.
"I thank you, Mrs. Darcy, for allowing us entrance into your home at such short notice," said Wickham, taking Elizabeth's hand and quickly pressing it to his lips.
"Please sit, dear Lydia, Mr. Wickham," Mrs. Darcy said, gesturing kindly to the sofas.
The Wickhams sat next to one another and Elizabeth took the remaining sofa. The elder sister smiled at the younger's protruding belly.
"I hope I am not too late in saying my congratulations," Elizabeth said, nodding at Lydia.
"Not at all!" cried Lydia, a grin extending across her face, a tinge of red coming across her cheeks as she spoke. "It is I who should apologize for not coming to see my nephew any sooner!"
As she said this, the door to the room opened, and in walked the nurse with a small babe no older than three months. Mrs. Darcy stood and took the child from the nurse, and the caretaker turned and left the room with not a sound. Elizabeth held her baby close to her, in a mother's protective embrace.
"Is this the little Fitzwilliam you've told me of, dear sister?" said Lydia, standing and going toward mother and child. "He is beautiful, and has his mother's brow and eyes, as well as his father's strong jaw." Mrs. Wickham waggled her finger under the child's chin. "He will grow up to be a fine young man."
"I thank you, Mrs. Wickham," said Elizabeth, looking down at her infant. "And so does Fitzwilliam."
The child made a gurgling sound, and the woman and Mr. Wickham chuckled.
"May I see him, Mrs. Darcy?" said Wickham, standing and approaching the child. "I should think I would need the practice for my own."
"Of course, Mr. Wickham," said Elizabeth. "I'm sure Fitzwilliam would love to see his uncle's face."
Wickham smiled politely as he took the small child from his mother's arms. Little Fitzwilliam grinned a toothless grin and waved his arms about as babies are one to do. Lydia stood over her husband and smiled down at the child.
"What a darling little boy," said she in a whisper. "We can only hope, Elizabeth, that our child is as wonderful as yours."
The door opened once more, and Elizabeth turned to see Mr. Darcy standing in the doorway, looking upon the scene before him. He looked neither angry nor hurt, but his eyes revealed the mild confusion and pain he felt at seeing his son in the arms of the man he so despised. Wickham and Lydia had both noticed his entrance, and the former grinned at the master of the house.
"Darcy!" Wickham cried. "Why don't you come sit with us for a while, and let us talk of your son?"
Mr. Darcy stared at Wickham for a moment before clearing his throat and muttering something the rest could not hear before leaving them. Elizabeth turned back to her company.
"Please excuse my husband," she said, taking Fitzwilliam from Mr. Wickham. "He is not yet accustomed to the idea of little Fitzwilliam being held by another."
"I am quite sure we'll both understand this in time as well," said Lydia, unaware of the hatred the two men shared for one another. "Elizabeth, why don't you show us about your lovely gardens? I've heard much of them from Jane and Mr. Bingley."
"Certainly," said Mrs. Darcy, glad to be rid of the animosity that had suddenly overcome the room. "Let me have the nurse put Fitzwilliam down for his nap."