A/N: So y'all really know your 19th century inheritance laws ?ￂﾠ and since I've kind of got everything planned out for the rest of this story I'm gonna play fast and loose with the whole inheritance thing (my story is riddled with historical inaccuracies, so what's one (or a dozen) more? LOL). For the purposes of this totally made-up story, Lady Catherin has the rights to everything that was her husband's. Anne was to get it upon her mother's death, but Lady Catherine has the power to disown her. (I tried looking this up and it appears as if disowning was something that could possibly happen but then again I'm not a 19th century lawyer so who really knows?)

Elizabeth cooed at her six month old son. He was all smiles and giggles lately. He was a strong, healthy lad who seemed perpetually in a good mood. Her dear husband said that their son had more of her personality than his while she asserted that he had more of his father's looks than hers.

She adored this precious time with Alexander, but it was going too fast. It seemed like only yesterday that they had returned from Rosings Park with Anne, but it was now nearing on four months.

So much had changed these past few months. Pemberley had a new semi-permanent guest. It still shocked Elizabeth that she had so easily convinced her husband to take in his relation who had so suddenly and so abhorrently been shunned and disowned by her mother.

Lady Catherine had made no short work of attempting to destroy the happiness of her daughter and her beloved, Dr. Taylor. Instead of calling off the wedding as per her daughter's wishes, she'd made certain that Dr. Taylor's reputation was ruined and that no one within twenty miles would use his services. Anne's hopes of a life with her beloved had been put on hold as the kind man was forced to find his fortune elsewhere.

The young doctor wrote to his betrothed quite frequently. Elizabeth could always tell when Anne received a letter from him because she would blush and scurry off happily to a quiet corner to read his words and pen a letter to him.

Shortly, Anne joined her and Alexander on the settee. Elizabeth offered her child to his cousin and she took him happily in her arms.

"It might not be too long before you hold one of your own sons in your arms," Elizabeth declared.

The other woman blushed. "I must confess that I do long to hold one of my and Dr. Taylor's children in my arms, but I know not yet how soon that shall be. He has set up his practice in -shire, but it is slow going. I think it will be another year at least before we are able to wed."

Elizabeth grabbed the hand of the woman who had quickly become a good friend and confidant over the past months. "It will happen. You and Dr. Taylor will be able to have the life you dreamed of together."

Four Months Later

Mr. Darcy smiled smugly at his wife's attempts to contain her fury. "It seems quite obvious to me, my dear, that our son clearly prefers his father. I heard him say 'da-da'."

"He might have said that, but earlier he was saying 'ma-ma'. You are willfully trying to stoke my ire, Fitzwilliam. Just because you were not there, does not mean he didn't say it."

"I would love to believe you, Lizzy, my love, but do you have any witnesses to that supposed event? Or only our ten-month-old son?"

Elizabeth's face grew a shade brighter. Mr. Darcy did not often goad his wife, but when he did he enjoyed it immensely. He watched as she scooped their son up, kissed him on the cheek, and proceeded to coax him to say 'ma-ma'.

"I see what you are at and it shall not work. My son will not fall for your tricks."

His wife looked at him pointedly. "You did. So why should not your son as well?" before returning her attention back to Alexander, "Come on, my sweet, say ma-ma. Ma-ma."

Crossing to stand next to them. He joined in with his own cajoling. "No. Say da-da. Da-da."

"Ma-ma."

"Da-da."

Alexander looked perplexedly at both his parents until deciding that he no longer wanted to be held and squirmed his way to freedom.

Both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy huffed as their son crawled away realizing that neither of them had won the argument.

Two Months Later

"Mr. Darcy! Mrs. Darcy!"

Elizabeth set down her cup as the cries of her son's nursery maid grew louder. Turning her head, she looked at the clearly aghast woman. The woman's disheveled appearance and pale face caused a sinking in her stomach before she even knew what to fear.

The woman was on the verge of tears. "The babe. He has a rash and is burning up!"

Without delay, her husband stood and sent a footman to fetch the doctor. Elizabeth found herself unable to move. She had only been away from her son for two nights. Only two nights. They had just returned this afternoon. How could this have happened in such a short time? He had been her smiling, happy boy only days before.

The shock of the situation wore off after a few seconds and Elizabeth made to stand and began to follow the nursery maid back to her son's room. Maybe she was being fearful for nothing. Maybe it was simply a fever that would disappear by the morrow.

Darcy had never felt so helpless and useless as he did watching Elizabeth gently bathe their young son with a cool, damp cloth. Since they had the doctor had confimed his illness, scarlatina, a few days prior, she had not left their son's side. She was even wearing the clothes she'd worn when they'd found out he was sick.

Being so young, there hadn't been much the physician could do. He said only to wait and see. Well, waiting and seeing might be the death of him especially when Alexander would let out a feeble cry. The sound ripped his heart in two. He was so far removed from the healthy and jovial child with whom they were so acquainted. Darcy had so recently been blessed with an abundance of happiness in having Lizzy's love in return and the birth of their son. It would be cruel fate indeed if that happiness was whisked away from him. He did not know how he or his Lizzy would ever recover from such a devastating blow as the loss of their son.

"Mr. and Mrs. Darcy?" Their housekeeper gravely inquired later that evening.

"Yes, Mrs. Jones?" Darcy asked.

"It's Miss de Bourgh. She has also taken ill. She has the same rash and fever that the young master has."

Elizabeth closed her eyes as a tear slipped out the right one. Over the past few months, Anne had become as dear and as close to her as one of her own sisters. She could not bear the news of this fever ravaging another beloved member of her family. When would this all end?

Dear reader, as many of you know, Anne de Bourgh is a frail, sickly sort of creature. While scarlatina mainly affects young children, it does from time to time afflict adults of a certain constitution. Over the coming days, both the Darcys' son and cousin would fight valiantly to stay alive. Unfortunately, only one of them would succeed in doing so.