“Is the physician coming?” Harriet asked.
“Yes, Mr. Merriweather rode out to get him.”
Harriet nodded, not taking her eyes from Elizabeth.
“In this storm?”
Georgiana nodded, glancing out the window to watch the snowflakes fall. She knew he had done it at least in part for her, and she was both grateful and bewildered. She now thought back on being locked outside with him as an adventure, one she enjoyed more than she thought. She had been worried about the kitten to be sure, but she also found herself enjoying being that close to him, looking in his dark eyes, and particularly, his kiss. Remembering it now made her heart pound again.
She watched Darcy holding tightly to Elizabeth’s hand and realized that love was beyond finding a person amiable or attractive; it also meant supporting the other during difficulty, as Darcy was now with Elizabeth. She inhaled the smell of camphor and scent of freshly washed linens that Harriet set on a nearby table. When—no, if she married—she needed to find a man who loved her the way William did Elizabeth. If she ever underwent childbirth, she wanted a husband who sat with her holding her hand through the pain, at least as long as he was allowed. Somehow, she could not imagine Hugh Devereaux removing his fancy coat and sitting in a hot, still room holding a woman’s hand.
Harriet finished folding the linens and smoothed them out.
“It’s nearly time,” she said.
Georgiana felt confused. “Time for what?”
“Time for Mr. Darcy to wait outside.”
Just then Mrs. Reynolds opened the door to announce that Adam and the physician had finally arrived.
“Thank Christ,” Darcy murmured and kissed his wife’s hand.
William lifted Elizabeth’s hand and heartily kissed it. He looked greatly relieved.
He placed his other hand on her forehead and smiled as another spasm of pain ignited in her midsection. She turned away from his hand and tried not to fight it as it pinched and flared along to her back. It came at her like a wave, strong at first, so intense her fists tightened under the blanket, which she hid from Darcy so he wouldn’t see. It was becoming worse, bad enough to make her want to gasp or call out, but she was careful not to in front of William. She exhaled as hot pain pulled through her body, searing her. Then slowly, a little less slowly each time, it ebbed away from her like the tide.
She gulped air greedily as the pain drifted away. Darcy’s eyes took in her discomfort and tried to smile at him, but her lips quivered.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes, my love.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She didn’t want Darcy to worry more than he already was.
Harriet came to William’s side.
“The physician has arrived. I believe the time has come for Mr. Darcy to wait in the other room.”
Elizabeth nodded, while William looked stricken.
She managed to smile. “I will be well,” she said to William, but suddenly the idea that he wouldn’t be next to her made her want to cry.
Somewhere, just beyond herself, she felt the wave beginning to build again. She couldn’t feel it yet, but she would soon. She felt the energy of it gaining strength. She knew she had work to do, and William couldn’t follow where she was going.
“Georgiana, come here and take my place by Elizabeth,” William said as he stood up. He leaned down and kissed his wife one more time.
From across the room, Georgiana felt her eyes widen. Elizabeth looked so pale and limp right now, and when the pain came, the spasms were so frightening, she wasn’t sure she wanted to have such close seat to the miracle of childbirth.
The physician, Dr. McBride, knocked on the door and swept into the room, still brushing snow from his shoulders. He shook Darcy’s hand before bending over Mrs. Darcy carefully.
“Mrs. Darcy, how are you? Are you ready to take a pain?”
Harriet guided Darcy out of the room with two of the maids.
Elizabeth nodded. Georgiana didn’t know what he meant, but then Dr. McBride made Elizabeth turn on her side while Harriet held a sheet up over Elizabeth to protect her privacy. The physician examined Mrs. Darcy’s lower regions. Georgiana swallowed and averted her gaze. She did not want to experience that at all. Maybe she would never have a baby.
The indignities women went through to have a baby!
Darcy ran this hands through his hair as he walked into the room that served as the waiting area outside Elizabeth’s bedchamber. Seeing Elizabeth suffer was harder than he realized, and in an odd way, he was relieved to leave. For that, he felt a stab of guilt.
Sitting in the corner, just off the fire in the hearth, was Adam Merriweather wrapped in a plaid blanket, his dark hair damp and disheveled. Darcy was flooded with guilt. Perhaps he had judged the boy too harshly upon their initial meeting. But that didn’t mean he wanted to talk to him. Especially now.
“Mr. Merriweather,” Darcy called out, and he looked up. “I wish to express my appreciation to you for your help today. My wife and I are indebted to you.”
There, Darcy thought. He thanked him and now was free from obligation to him. Darcy was ready to turn away.
Adam blotted a handkerchief across his brow and nodded. “I am happy to be at your service.” He leaned back, clearly exhausted. “May I inquire after Mrs. Darcy?”
Darcy’s heart thudded at her mention. He instantly did not want to be alone.
Darcy stared down at the vase on a table he stood near. “Nature seems to be taking its course,” Darcy said while he moved the vase an inch to the right.
He didn’t know what else to say.
Adam nodded. His face was flushed and his cheeks ruddy from the cold. He looked paler and younger than he’d previously seemed.
Darcy paused. Oh, damnation. He knew what he should do.
“Would you honor me by joining me in a drink?”
Adam nodded, and Darcy poured two hearty glasses of brandy before handing him a glass.
“To the health of Mrs. Darcy and your first born,” Adam said, holding his glass aloft.
“Yes, quite.” Darcy winced a bit at his mention of Mrs. Darcy’s condition, but he knew Adam meant well. It was very American of him to mention it. He downed his drink, and Adam followed suit.
The liquid warmth slid down Darcy’s throat, comforting him.
“Oh, that is welcome,” Darcy said, his shoulders relaxing. “I wish I could give some to Mrs. Darcy.”
Adam smiled cheerfully. He looked so young and fresh-faced, Darcy thought. Had he ever been that green? He knew he must have been, but it seemed like a long time ago.
“How old are you, Adam?”
Adam blinked.
“I am one and twenty,” he said loudly and cleared his throat. Darcy could see that he made Adam nervous, and for some reason, it pleased his vanity. He poured them both more brandy and brought him another glass.
“I remember that age,” he said. “There was much I didn’t yet know.”
They both stared silently at the fire popping in the hearth.
Adam nodded. “I’ve finished my university studies. I am eager to learn the ways of the world.”
Darcy’s mouth twitched with a small smile. The boy was so earnest. He wished his friend Charles Bingley was here to observe as well. Adam reminded him a bit of a young Bingley. Perhaps he would meet him soon enough.
“Yes, well, don’t be in too much of a hurry. It will happen whether you will it or not.”
Adam nodded enthusiastically, which made Darcy smile more.
“So tell me of your father’s business. Do you expect to run it some day?”
He nodded, wiping his nose and pushing his dark hair from his face.
Female voices rose from the Elizabeth’s lying-in room, and Adam turned his head in that direction. Darcy’s breath caught as he looked to the white wooden door with its gleaming brass knob, his stomach knotting.
Adam looked back to Darcy, and the older man reddened under the scrutiny. Darcy hoped he couldn’t tell how
nervous he was. He felt torn between hiding his reaction and the more pressing fear for his wife that surged through him. He sat on a chair near Adam.
“Have you attended births before this one?” Adam asked.
Darcy shook his head tersely.
“I’m the eldest of five siblings, who are in London with their cousins. They are all several years younger than myself.”
Darcy listened but did not hear Adam’s words. He heard the rhythm of his voice and irritation spiked in him as he wondered how he could prattle on while his Elizabeth was in distress, but he schooled his face not to show it.
Another voice rose. Finally Darcy stood up, his body coiled as if to strike.
Adam stood as well. “So, when I say I have been through four siblings’ births and one cousin’s, please know that everything seems in order,” Adam said. “Noise is common during a birth. When it gets quiet, that’s when you may worry.”
Darcy exhaled, met his gaze, and swallowed thickly. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice cracked. “What if…?” he said. Suddenly, his eyes filled with tears.
Adam had the grace to look back to the hearth while Darcy fumbled for his handkerchief.
“Usually, I keep this on hand for a woman,” he said quietly. “How many siblings did you say you have?”
“Four,” Adam said and smiled gently.
Darcy smiled at him finally. “Another drink then, so I will not burst through that door?” He picked up the decanter and poured them both more brandy.
Adam nodded.
Darcy gripped his glass helplessly. “What shall we talk of? I can think of nothing. What interests do you have?”
“Tell me what Georgiana was like as a child.”
Darcy’s mouth twitched into a faint smile again. He supposed talking about his sister to an eligible young man was one way to keep his mind from wandering to the next room. He wasn’t sure which subject he dreaded more: talking of Georgiana or knowing quite what was happening next door.
Chapter 5
Georgiana watched a cloud of steam rise from the teapot as Harriet poured her a cup. She took it, thanked her, and inhaled the herbal fragrance wafting into the air. After a hot first sip, she focused on Elizabeth standing across the room from her, breathing heavily as she endured another spell of delivery pain.
Elizabeth’s pain scared her. She had seen one other woman—a friend’s sister—in confinement in the early stages of delivery, and it frightened her. She worried she might faint, and she didn’t want to be a burden. She was also flattered that Elizabeth allowed her to be in the room with her. As a maiden, she knew she had no advice to give, but she wanted to support Elizabeth for gossip if she could.
Still her heart beat fast in her chest as she took a seat near where she stood.
What if something went wrong? Harriet and the physician were here, but she knew many village women did not survive childbirth.
She couldn’t think about that now.
“How are you now?” she asked gently.
Elizabeth looked up and smiled at her, but Georgiana could see she was tired, her eyes puffy. A long, dark piece of wavy hair escaped its pin and fell along her face.
“May I fix your hair for you?” Georgiana offered.
“I can do it, ma’am,” Harriet said and came behind Elizabeth to regather and recoil her thick hair.
“Thank you.”
“Did you know, in London, some proper society ladies have their hair styled in preparation for delivery?” Georgiana said, unsure what else to add.
“I should think that would be an exercise in futility,” Elizabeth said, her eyes closed while Harriet re-pinned her hair. “My head is the least of my thoughts at the moment.” She smiled slightly. “The pain increases, but is not too terrible.”
A loud knock came at the door, and everyone turned as it opened.
“Lizzie!” Mrs. Bennet, dressed in a day dress, bustled into the room. “It is your mama! I am here!” She called out as though she were in a play.
Elizabeth sighed audibly.
“Hello, Mama. You are awake.” It was not a question.
“My dear!” she exclaimed. “Why did you not tell me at dinner? Well, I am here now and may help guide you as only a mother may.”
Elizabeth set her hands on her back and walked steadily. “I was not having pains at dinner, Mama, and it may yet be a long while.”
“How is Mrs. Darcy?” Dr. McBride asked. The other women all quieted when he came in, as if an unspoken peace had been broken.
“Mrs. Darcy is well enough,” Elizabeth said, placing one hand under her stomach and one on her back. “Here comes another. Awww,” she said and exhaled deeply.
“Keep walking, if you are able,” Dr. McBride said.
“Aye, keep walking,” Mrs. Bennet said, sitting in a chair nearby. “Walk until the baby falls out, the midwife used to tell me.” She smiled at the other women and picked at the plate of fruit.
“Merciful heaven,” Harriet said quietly.
“Oh, Mama.” Elizabeth set her hands on the backrest of a high chair and lowered her head to rest her back. “Mama, what roused you?”
“My maternal instincts, of course. I awoke, knew something was amiss and went next door to find something to read, and I saw Mr. Merriweather and the physician coming down the hall. So I dressed and came immediately, as I knew you would want me here.”
Georgiana’s heart sped up when Adam was mentioned. She wondered how his journey had gone, when Elizabeth exhaled slowly.
“Pain is good. Pain means the baby’s coming,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Harriet, is there more cold chicken downstairs? Would you bring some up? And more claret? And the bread pudding? La, I have been through this five times. You shall be fine, my dear. But I am famished,” she said and giggled like a young girl.
Dr. McBride looked from Elizabeth to Mrs. Bennet. “Mrs. Darcy, forgive me, but do you intend to allow so many people in the room for your delivery?”
Mrs. Bennet’s mouth fell open in surprise, making her look for a moment like a fish. “Well, I am not going anywhere! I have had five successful deliveries of my own, Doctor, and I am her mother. I daresay I’m more qualified to deliver this babe than anyone else here.”
Georgiana hid her smile and wondered how the doctor would react to this challenge. He was younger than Georgiana expected a physician to be, but he only stood and placed his hands behind his back as if to show how accommodating he was. “Mrs. Bennet, I mean no offense. I find deliveries are most successful when the mother’s wishes are considered.” The doctor had kind, large eyes, very different from the dusty, older physicians she usually saw at her aunt, Lady Catherine’s, home.
Elizabeth straightened up and walked slowly past the roaring fireplace and around the room, ignoring her mother. She looked to be in pain now, as she blinked slowly and pushed her breath out.
“Everyone may remain for now,” she said, her teeth gritted. “I’m happy for the diversion, but I retain the right to change my mind at any point going forward,” she said.
“Lizzie, you wouldn’t dismiss me, would you?” Mrs. Bennet bleated, her mouth full of grapes.
Elizabeth cradled her stomach as she eased herself to the bed.
“Well, you’ll just have to behave, won’t you?”
One of the kittens galloped past the doorway of the room where Darcy and Adam sat. A moment later, the second one flew by, almost completely airborne. Darcy hadn’t known cats could leap like that.
He and Adam looked at each other.
“It seems we are under siege,” Darcy said.
“That’s Mrs. Murderbritches,” Adam said and laughed. He walked to the hall and scooped both of the kittens up. “What are you two doing here?” he asked them. “Are you seeking your lady?”
Darcy’s instinct was to clear his throat menacingly at the mention of his sister by a young man who was not family, but stopped himself. Perhaps he needed to approach this differently. He watched Adam cradle the kitte
ns in his arms and wondered what to make of him. He was tall, too skinny, and hardly knew how to carry himself as a grown man. But he held the kittens as if they were royal children instead of incredibly lucky barn cats. It was clear he had a tender heart like Georgiana. He seemed kind, which was worlds apart from men like Wickham.
Wickham. The name itself made him vexatious.
But Darcy swallowed. Adam was in trade. If Georgiana truly liked him, he would brook no argument, although he knew his aunt would have to be convinced. As long as he was good to Georgiana, that was what mattered.
Now how could he bloody well find out what was happening in the lying-in room?
One of the kittens leapt from Adam’s arm to the floor—again as if its legs were made of springs—and wandered to Darcy’s boot, which she sniffed, then craned her neck back to take in the rest of him.
Adam found this hilarious. “Have a care, little one. You are approaching the master of all you see,” he said.
Darcy looked down at the kit.
He didn’t dislike cats. He just hadn’t ever made time get to know one well. He’d always had dogs, and even Banquo, his wolfhound, was waiting for him downstairs.
After a final sniff, the kitten leapt to Darcy’s breeches and used her nails to pull herself the rest of the way up to his lap. Adam winced and moved to take her, but Darcy held up his hand.
“No, it’s all right. I need to learn patience for young things, don’t you think?”
After the initial pin-stick of her nails in his leg, she now sat in his lap and looked at him. Her large green eyes blinked. He could see how Georgiana was charmed by them.
“What are you doing?” he asked and patted the scruff of her neck.
She was tiny. Truly miniature.
This close he could see how vulnerable she was. He guessed she had bones the size of a bird’s. He could crush her in the palm of his hand if he wanted. Of course he wouldn’t. He couldn’t abide cruelty in any form. But he’d never seen something so small and delicate, tiny and curious—other than perhaps his Elizabeth—approach him with no trepidation.
First Christmas at Pemberley Page 5