Of the many things that could be said about his sister and his wife, neither were made for unhappiness. Both had experienced bouts of melancholy, rightfully so. Sometimes due to their own actions, but more often due to the cruel hand of fate that deals luck with chaotic blindness.
And yet, it was each other's own presence that fed their natural inclinations towards optimism, which seemed to blossom in a matter of moments, whisking away the months of heaviness that lingered around Pemberley. There was something about this fierce combination of Darcy women that made Darcy proud. Not in the way Elizabeth used to tease him, but in the rightful way his parents had instilled before they left this earth.
In later years, Darcy would credit his sister with bringing his wife back to her old self, or at least a similar version of it. Georgiana would, of course, say she was simply the one to open his eyes to what was already there. Elizabeth would credit that it was just love from all ends and remind Fitzwilliam that he too needed to be reminded of himself.
Georgiana was always put on a pedestal by her brother, perhaps due to being the last piece of his beloved mother. But that was something that came crashing down due to the incident at Ramsgate and partially due to Elizabeth's objective wisdom. It took years for her brother to see her as anything but a perfect child, and her minor act of rebellion jolted him to reality. But it wasn't until Elizabeth showed him that Georgiana could be loved and adored without being idolized for just being Georgiana. Elizabeth knew the full story and loved her then future sister-in-law regardless. It taught Darcy that he already felt the same.
Perhaps that is the ultimate lesson family teaches us – that we are who we are, yet someone loves us anyway because we do deserve a regardless kind of love. True family, true love simply removes the blinders or filters we see the world through, stuck in a rut of viewing ourselves or our circumstances as inevitable.
Darcy always wafted between believing in Fate or Providence and believing in the concept of Free Will. He woke up every day beside the woman he loved, a woman he thought he lost (several times over at this point), a woman who held so much of his heart that it felt like it lived outside of his own body. It was hard not to believe in some kind of master plan that rewarded him with her despite his own stupid actions and selfish ways. Yet, he couldn't deny the cruel twists of such a belief, denying him a mother at age 11, a father just as he reached his majority, several brothers or sisters and now his own child.
No, he concluded, only recently, that he preferred to believe in a benevolent Deity and a world corrupted by "Original Sin", as the parson dubbed it one Sunday he actually listened as a young boy. It's the only logical reason why he could somehow "deserve" the presence and love of Elizabeth and Georgiana and why things also just didn't work out well.
Pemberley these days was filled with the tinkling laughter of his sister once again and the full-bodied joy of his wife. He hadn't realized how much he missed both familiar sounds until the echoed in near perfect harmony off the walls of the hallway between the dining room and drawing room as the ladies insisted on observing the separation of the sexes.
Once the door of the dining room closed, Andrew turned to look at his brother-in-law who was absentmindedly sipping his coffee. He studied him for a moment, recalling a recent conversation with his own wife, before just jumping to the point, as was his wont.
"You know, we lost one last January."
Darcy startled out of his thoughts, looked at Andrew confused. "Lost one?"
Andrew shifted in his seat and started staring at his own untouched coffee cup. For a moment, he regretted not asking for something stronger. "Georgiana was going to tell you both at Christmas, but it was still too new. She wanted to wait until she felt the quickening." Darcy's eyes continued to widen as Andrew continued the story. "We had planned a big family dinner at the beginning of the season to explain why we weren't going to stay in London this year."
"But you lost it?" Darcy nearly whispered.
"Yes."
Andrew finally looked at Darcy and met his eyes. He could see the unshed tears gathering. "You aren't supposed to talk about it. You aren't supposed to mourn. You can't have a funeral…"
"Or say goodbye," Darcy finished for him.
Andrew shook his head. "You just have to move on." Andrew leaned forward. "But that doesn't work for anyone. Does it?"
Darcy shook his head slowly.
"Georgiana was so sure it was a girl, so we named her 'Iris'."
"'Rainbow'."
"Yes." Andrew smiled sadly before looking away. "There is a small plaque in the churchyard for her now."
"You… you…"
"We wanted something to remember her by and not just the intangibles like lost hope and forgotten dreams."
The two men sat in silence for what seemed like eternity, both lost in their own thoughts.
"How is Georgiana?"
Andrew smiled. "This trip has pulled her out of the last bit of her sadness. It is good to hear her laugh again."
"Why didn't you…" Darcy began a question that he knew the answer to. "Nevermind."
"Actually, it was when we lost our own that we figured out what happened last year to you."
Darcy stared at his brother, who stared back with a fierce look that he'd seen in years past on his own sister. Later, he would recall how he was struck by the similarities in the couple and how they clearly were each other's match.
"Only someone who has lost a child like that, a child so desired and loved like that, can mourn like that, can grieve like that." Andrew half-shrugged as he continued, "It was oddly familiar."
"Does she know you told me?"
Andrew smiled at an untold memory. "It was her idea." Darcy's head snapped to his brother's face. "Elizabeth's letters have been, well, off for some time. Your's too, if we're being honest. After we figured it out, we knew what we had to do. Family is everything, Darcy. You told me that not so long ago."
Darcy smiled at the memory of a younger man than the one beside him now, standing in his study and asking for Georgiana's hand. He did say that, partly to threaten and partly to measure the young reverend on his commitment to his protected sister. The intruder simply echoed the phrase with a tender sentiment and passion that the older man knew it was the right choice for his sister.
Andrew cleared his throat. "Let me ask you one more thing before we rejoin our wives." Darcy nodded slightly. "What would you have named yours?"
"John, our 'gift from God'." Darcy stood with a purpose. "His name is John."