Author's Note:

Hi, guys! Thank you for all your reviews! I was amused to see how many of you didn't think the cliffhanger was a great deal and others couldn't believe my cruelty!

Anyway, as you can see, I am not very evil—only a little—and I didn't make you wait for long. I didn't have time to reply to all of you, so I will try to do it later, but I wanted to post today. I won't keep you. I hope you like this chapter!

Stay safe!

Jen

That last comment made the three of them turn back to the couple and they watched as Fitzwilliam stared at something in his hands. They could not see his expression from where they were sitting, but they saw him look up to Elizabeth suddenly, wrap his arms around her waist, hoist her up and twirl her around as they laughed.

"It must be some gift!" Mr. Darcy laughed.

24.

Fitzwilliam was walking beside Elizabeth, holding her hand and leading her to the white roses she loved so much, when she suddenly stopped and turned to face him. She reached for his other hand, which he surrendered to her care immediately and smiled as he watched her thumb caressed the back of it.

"This morning you told me my present could not possibly be better than me," she smiled sweetly at him.

"It cannot."

She chuckled. "Do not be so sure, sir. I told you it was a good present and that you would change your mind."

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Elizabeth. Surely, you know that by now."

She smiled enigmatically and asked:

"Would you like your other present?"

"Well, of course. If I can have both I shall take both," he teased.

She reached into her gown and from some pocket or petticoat or God knows where, she took a small rectangular package.

"It looks like a book," he said when she handed it to him.

He unwrapped his second present from her of the day and discovered it was indeed a book. It was, in fact, the one book he had been trying to acquire for months. It was a special and very beautiful leather-bound edition which must have cost her a lot of money and even more time to find it.

"How did you find this?"

"Oh, I have my own connections," she smiled up at him and when he raised an eyebrow, she admitted: "My dear Papa is a collector, remember? He helped me find it."

Fitzwilliam caressed the book, turned it around in his hands, and saw his name, Fitzwilliam Darcy, engraved on it.

"It is magnificent, my love. Thank you," he said, and cupped her cheek, leaning forward and kissing her softly. "But you cannot possibly think you are worth a book. No matter how rare the edition."

Elizabeth chuckled and whispered:

"Look inside."

He did and immediately noticed the inscription in his wife's elegant hand. His first thought—before his mind had time to register their meaning—what that it was strange that there were only three words, instead of the long confession of love he might have expected. But the three words were even more stunning. They were not I love you. The inscription said, quite elegantly, but clearly:

Happy birthday, Papa.

"Papa?" was his instant reaction of utter confusion.

He looked up at her and saw her beaming, her eyes filled with unshed tears and then he realised! Papa!

"Elizabeth?" he whispered, having lost his voice.

"Yes," she replied his unasked question. "I am with child. You shall be a father."

He stared at her, unblinking until her words finally made sense and his face broke into the biggest grin she had ever seen and suddenly his arms were around her waist, her feet were up in the air, and they were half laughing, half crying as he twirled her around.

Fitzwilliam finally lowered her back to the ground. In his joy, he had dropped the book and now he cupped her face in his hands and rested his forehead against hers. They stood like that for a few seconds, not kissing, just enjoying their happiness together, before he was embracing her again, this time holding her head against his chest.

"Oh, I should not have thrown you around in such a way," he suddenly said, pulling her away to see if she was all right.

"I am perfectly fine," she chuckled.

"You are truly with child?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Truly?"

"Yes," she laughed.

"But so soon? I did not expect..."

"Apparently, four months is enough."

"Yes, of course. Once is enough, but I still thought it might take years."

"Are you disappointed?" she asked, confused.

"No," he laughed. "Not at all. Only surprised. And happy, joyful, blissful... My dearest heart," he cupped her cheek again as his own eyes filled with tears. "You are carrying my child."

"I am."

"We shall have a babe."

"We shall."

He smiled at her so lovingly as he blinked back his tears before he remembered they were not alone—again—and looked at his family who were staring quite unabashedly at them before they pretended to look away. He laughed before he stepped back from his wife and took her hand.

"Can we tell them?" he asked her.

"Of course. I only wanted to tell you first."

He picked up the book he had so carelessly dropped and walked back to his family with one gift in his hand and another one in the other.

"It must be some book," Mr. Darcy teased as they approached.

"A special edition, my dear?" Lady Anne asked.

"Very special," Fitzwilliam smiled and handed her the book. "Look at it yourself."

She did, turning it around as he had done and noticing the fine quality and elegant inscription of his name.

"Inside, Mother," he added.

Mr. Darcy and Georgiana leaned closer to peek at it as Lady Anne read out loud:

"Happy birthday, Papa," she looked up at him. "Papa?" she asked, looking as confused as he had been before she moved her gaze suddenly to Elizabeth. "Lizzy?"

"Yes," she repeated. "I am with child."

"Oh, Lizzy!" Lady Anne exclaimed before taking her daughter into her arms.

No sooner had she done so that Georgiana was also there, hugging her and squealing. Elizabeth only laughed as she held them both. Fitzwilliam was watching the tender scene with a big smile on his face when he felt his father's eyes on him. He turned to him and was surprised when his father embraced him just as tightly.

"Congratulations, Son," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You shall be an excellent father."

Fitzwilliam was so touched by such words that he had to fight back his tears. He wanted to tell his father that he hoped he would be just as good as him, but he feared he would break into tears if he did, so instead, he held him just as tight and hoped it conveyed his feelings.

After a good amount of congratulations, hugs, and kisses were exchanged, Lady Anne pulled Elizabeth to one of the chairs that Fitzwilliam had demanded to let the servants bring for them, and sat her down.

"Come, my love. Tell me everything," she said.

"Are you absolutely sure you are with child?" Mr. Darcy asked.

"As sure as I can be at this point. I have had my suspicions for at least a month, but I wanted to be sure," Elizabeth explained. "When I started feeling so exhausted and eating more... well, I was almost sure."

"Why did you not come to me?" Lady Anne asked.

"Oh, Mother," Lizzy smiled. "You have never said a word, but I know how much you love children and how much you wished to be a grandmother. I did not want to raise everyone's hopes—especially yours—and dash them later."

"But now you are sure?" Fitzwilliam asked.

"That was my secret, you see?" she smiled at him. "I wanted to speak to Dr. Johnson, but if I brought him to Pemberley, you would either suspect the truth or worry about me, so I asked Mrs. Reynolds where I could find him. She gave me his address at Lambton and I went to see him alone. He confirmed my suspicions and then I decided to wait for your birthday to tell you."

"So, Mrs. Reynolds knows?" Georgiana asked.

"Yes, although I did not say it, she must know. I tried to reassure her that nothing was wrong with me."

"I assure you, she knows then," Mr. Darcy chuckled.

"Oh, my dear. How far along are you?" Lady Anne asked.

"Dr. Johnson believes I am three months along."

"So long!"

"Yes, though I have not yet felt the quickening. He believes I shall not for another month at least."

"Oh, and we took you to London," Mr. Darcy cursed himself. And I took you to ride to exhaustion.

Elizabeth seemed to read his thoughts for she reached out and put her hand on his.

"The doctor said I am perfectly healthy. We both are. I told him what I have been doing and he said I can keep doing most of the things I do."

"Oh, do not start over protecting the poor girl. She is not me. She shall be fine," Lady Anne told her husband.

"And overprotection falls to me," Fitzwilliam smiled at Elizabeth who chuckled.

"Besides being constantly tired and hungry, I am perfectly well. There is no reason to worry."

"Can we announce it?" Lady Anne asked eagerly.

"Of course," Elizabeth agreed.

"Then let us go now to announce it at Pemberley."

Once inside, Lady Anne summoned their closest servants—Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds, Emma and Rogers—and the cook—who would need to be aware of what Elizabeth could or could not eat—and ordered champagne. Elizabeth thought her mother's excitement was both endearing and highly amusing and allowed her to ask a hundred questions and be as exuberant as she wished while they waited for the servants.

They finally arrived with a maid carrying the champagne. Mr. Darcy asked her to pour a glass for everyone and once she was gone and everyone had their glasses, he raised his own and nodded at Fitzwilliam. He had asked his son if he wanted to be the one to announce it, and although Fitzwilliam abhorred being the centre of attention, he realised that now he would have his own family, and this was his duty.

Elizabeth walked to stand next to her husband who smiled down at her and wrapped a hand around her waist, bringing her closer.

"Thank you for coming at such short notice," he began and he realised, by Mrs. Reynold's knowing smile, that she knew what was coming. "We have some wonderful news and we wish to share our joy with you. There shall soon be a new addition to our family, for we shall welcome a new Darcy in September."

"Oh, my dear," Mrs. Reynolds could not contain herself any longer and walked to the boy—now a man—she had known and loved for so long as her own. She kissed his cheek in an unprecedented act of unprofessionalism. "Oh, I am so sorry, but I am so happy for you, Master Fitzwilliam."

"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds," he replied, not at all offended.

"And you, Mrs. Darcy. Congratulations!" she said, reaching out for her hand.

Many congratulations followed Mrs. Reynolds' and they knew it would only be a matter of time before even the scullery maids heard the good news. The rest of the day was one of the happiest Fitzwilliam could remember and that night, before retiring, he walked to their shared study and saved his new book among his most precious possessions, knowing it would never be in the library for as long as he lived. No, this book was the most precious of all, not because of its age or its edition, but because it was the first book dedicated to 'Papa.' He thought his children might offer him such gifts in the future and the word 'papa' would come directly from them, and he went to sleep with a smile on his face.

I do not own any Pride and Prejudice properties, nor do I make any money from the writing of this story.

Characters and situations, created by Jane Austen, are taken from Pride and Prejudice and from the Pride and Prejudice (1995) adaptation created by Simon Langton and distributed by BBC.

This story is released under the GPL/CC BY: verbatim copying and distribution of this entire work are permitted worldwide, without royalty, in any medium, provided attribution is preserved.