Pemberley Celebrations - the First Year

by Kara Louise

  When he walked out of the room, Elizabeth pulled herself up and steadied herself as she walked over to a dresser. She removed the water pitcher resting in its bowl and immediately emptied herself of all she had eaten that day. She then knelt down on the floor next to it and waited. Another wave swept over her. She was certain she never felt so horrible in her life.

  A few minutes later the offensive sensation departed, and she was able to stand upright. She took a cloth and washed her whole face, and then poured a glass of water and rinsed her mouth. She moved slowly, but steadily made her way to her bed. She sat down upon it and Lucy, her personal maid entered.

  “Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Darcy sent me up to see to you. What can I do for you?”

  “Please, Lucy… I fear I am not feeling well. I am sorry, but the bowl.... Could you see that someone cleans it out and returns it to me? I am so sorry.” Elizabeth immediately closed her eyes as her head came to rest upon the pillow.

  “Is there anything else I can do?”

  “Yes, Lucy. Please do not tell my husband about my being unwell. I do not want him to worry. I am sure it will pass.”

  “Yes, ma'am.” Lucy gave a small curtsey and then left, closing the door behind her.

  Elizabeth slept soundly for the remainder of the afternoon, and when she finally awakened, she found fresh water and dry biscuits by her bed. She was surprised she had not wakened when they were brought in, but was grateful for them. She slowly rose and sipped a little water and took a few bites of a biscuits. It did seem to help.

  When Darcy came in to inquire whether she wanted any dinner, she declined. The biscuits would suffice; she could not imagine eating anything more substantial.

  Elizabeth slept a few more hours, and later she was able to walk down to the dining room. She knew that she should try to get something in her stomach. She thought that would help her feel better.

  As she walked past the study, Darcy immediately stepped out. Gently wrapping his arms about her he asked, “How are you feeling, dear?”

  “Much better, thank you.” She leaned her head against his chest, enjoying the warmth of being held in his arms. “I believe I may have exerted myself too much.”

  “You should eat. Come; let us get something for you.” They walked into the dining room and Darcy rang for help. When one of the servants stepped in, Darcy asked, “Would you please get Mrs. Darcy something to eat?”

  “Not very much!” Elizabeth called out.

  He sat next to her, his eyes searching her face. He covered her hand with his and stroked it with his thumb as they waited. He did not enjoy seeing her this way. This was the first time in their marriage that she had been this ill, and it concerned him.

  Mrs. Reynolds came out carrying a small bowl of bland soup and some bread. “Here you are, Mrs. Darcy. Eat it slowly, and you will feel better in no time.”

  Darcy looked at her quizzically. “This is all she is to receive?”

  Elizabeth put up her hand to stop him. “It is all I want, Fitzwilliam. I want nothing more.”

  She looked at Mrs. Reynolds and noticed a knowing smile on her face. The housekeeper had apparently spoken to Lucy.

  Elizabeth ate slowly as Darcy watched her. She took in an occasional deep breath, letting it out slowly. With all the sleep she had that afternoon, she was puzzled that she still felt extremely tired and weak. All she wanted to do was to put her head down in her hands and close her eyes. But she forced a smile to reassure her husband that there was no need for concern.

  After she had eaten, Darcy suggested she get more rest. When she crawled into the bed, she put her head on the pillow and fell fast asleep.

  Darcy returned to his study. He attempted to read a novel, but could not concentrate on more than a few sentences. His thoughts continually drifted back to Elizabeth.

  He closed the book and tapped his fingers nervously on its cover. His heart began to beat noticeably faster as the possibility that his wife might not be ill, but with child occurred to him. The prospect both excited and overwhelmed him. He had been like a father to Georgiana these past five years and knew there was both rewarding joy and agonizing pain in parenthood. But the joys far outweighed the pain, and he would be delighted to become a father in the real sense of the word.

  If Elizabeth was merely ill, he hoped that it was nothing serious. If she was with child, his concern was for her health and that of the baby. He hoped she would not have a difficult time in the early months, as some women did.

  When he slipped into bed next to Elizabeth that night, she barely stirred. He lay down next to her and propped himself up on his elbow, letting his eyes take in her beauty. An almost full moon lit the room just barely enough to enable him to see her. He lifted his hand to stroke her hair and thought again of the child they might have. Would it be a girl who would have Elizabeth's fine eyes and witty personality? Would it be a boy who would have all her determination and liveliness? He tried to imagine what each would look like, how much they would be loved, and his heart felt ready to burst.

  At length, Darcy decided he had best not get his hopes up yet. After all, he did not know for a certainty that she was with child, yet in his mind he was already watching their child grow up. He determined not to allow his fanciful, hopeful dreaming to take hold of him. Darcy leaned over and gently kissed her forehead, allowing his lips to linger. She did not stir. He then closed his eyes and redirected his thoughts until sleep finally came upon him.

  *~*~*

  When morning broke the next day, Elizabeth was afraid to move. She felt that if she sat up, her whole body would rebel. She felt chilled from a fever, and Darcy expressed his conviction that it would be prudent to send for the doctor without delay. He knew that a fever was not usually a symptom of pregnancy, and felt a little disappointed.

  He sent for Dr. Wilton, who arrived within the hour. Dr. Wilton examined Elizabeth, and Darcy waited anxiously for his report.

  When Dr. Wilton finally came out, he told Darcy the news. “She seems to have a minor influenza affecting her stomach. She will most likely have a slight fever and some aches and pains for twenty-four hours, but I do believe the worst of it is over. She should feel better tomorrow. Today she should just rest.”

  Darcy nodded, feeling a sudden weight of disappointment upon him. “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your coming.”

  “Anytime, Mr. Darcy. I imagine I will see you again tomorrow at the picnic?”

  “Yes! Will you bring your family?”

  “Certainly! We would not miss it! Till then!”

  Darcy saw him to the door and he sighed as disappointment flooded him. Elizabeth was merely struck with an illness and was not carrying their child. He was surprised at the depth of regret, but told himself there was still plenty of time for them to have children. Plenty of time.

  Darcy returned immediately to Elizabeth. Her fever had gone down and she no longer had chills, but her muscles ached and she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

  “The doctor said you are ill, Elizabeth.”

  “Yes, I know. I should be well enough by tomorrow for the picnic, however.”

  “Yes.” Darcy sighed. There was no sense in telling Elizabeth how he had imagined she might be carrying the heir to Pemberley and how much he had looked forward to it. He would wait until the time came when she actually was with child.

  Darcy walked back downstairs, and Mrs. Reynolds inquired what the doctor said.

  “She is ill, but she ought to be improved by tomorrow.”

  Mrs. Reynolds thought he appeared downcast, and encouraged him that she most likely would improve directly; there was nothing to worry about.

  “Yes, yes, I know. It is just… well, it is hard for me to see her so, that is all.”

  “Ah, Mr. Darcy, rest assured, your wife has a strong constitution and will most likely be up and running this whole picnic on her own. Just you wait and see.”

  Darcy laughed. “You are probably right.”

  The preparations continue
d in Elizabeth's absence with Mrs. Reynolds carrying on most efficiently. The housekeeper came by Elizabeth’s room occasionally to check on her, and when she found her awake, made inquiries about the picnic. Elizabeth had enough confidence in Mrs. Reynolds to leave most of the details up to her. The thoughtful woman also kept Elizabeth supplied with fresh water and biscuits, encouraging her to take small sips and little bites as often as her stomach allowed.

  Darcy walked into his study and closed the door. He leaned against it, his disappointment increasing. He shook his head, reprimanding himself. Get a grip, man! He had to get this disappointment out of his system. There is time enough for us to have a child. It will happen; it is just not to be now!

  *~*~*

  Later that day, Elizabeth slowly pulled herself up in her bed and decided she could stay there not one moment longer. Her stomach was not as violently ill as it had been the day before, her fever was down, and the only evidences of any illness were her aching muscles and a slight fatigue.

  She took the stairs slowly, and Darcy met her half-way, taking her hand.

  “How do you feel, my love?”

  “Much better, thank you.”

  “I am glad to hear that,” Darcy answered, but his manner seemed to say otherwise.

  Elizabeth gently wrapped her fingers about his arm and looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. “Fitzwilliam, are you unwell?”

  “No… it is just… it has not been easy to see you feeling so poorly. Are you quite certain this is nothing more than…”

  She brought her hand up to his face and stroked his cheek. “I appreciate your concern, but I believe the worst is over.”

  For the remainder of the day, Darcy did not allow Elizabeth to exert herself as much as she would have liked in the preparations for the picnic. He settled her in his study with a blanket over her lap, and she read in between small snippets of sleep.

  By evening she was feeling much improved and went to bed with great expectations for a wonderful day ahead.

  *~*~*

  May Day arrived with all the promises of new life that a spring day offers. A warm breeze wafted across Pemberley’s grounds, and as Elizabeth pulled herself out of bed, she rejoiced in how well she felt. Although still a bit tired, she knew she would be able to thoroughly enjoy this festive day.

  When she began coming down the stairs, Darcy again met her half-way and helped her the rest of the way down, despite her objections that she was feeling much better and stronger. She was able to eat a good breakfast and promptly began aiding Mrs. Reynolds in the final details of the picnic.

  People were to begin arriving around noon, and as the servants made last minute preparations inside and out, Darcy and Elizabeth took a stroll about the grounds. They walked slowly, scarcely believing that soon over a hundred people would be swarming around their estate.

  There would be games and relays for the children, and a small string ensemble would entertain with music. The Maypole would entertain young and old alike for most of the day, but it was after the meal that Mrs. Turner would choreograph the dancers holding the ribbons.

  A few rowboats had been put out on the small lake that fronted the house, and such amusements as kites, croquet, and badminton would be made available. Elizabeth felt a quiver of excitement as she contemplated all that would take place that day.

  Darcy insisted that his wife rest after their walk to ensure she would not become fatigued later. She went in to their room to lie down where she quickly and readily fell fast asleep. When her husband returned after a half-hour, he was surprised at how soundly she slept. He pondered a moment whether he should allow her to sleep a little longer, but knew how much she wished to enjoy all the festivities.

  “Elizabeth.” His gentle voice aroused her, and she awakened and stretched her arms to work out the sleeping muscles.

  “Oh! I did not mean to sleep so long! Have the people begun arriving?”

  “You slept long enough to make me wonder if you are still unwell. Elizabeth, if you feel at all unsettled…”

  “No, I am feeling much improved,” she laughed with a wave of her hand. “Allow me a few minutes to ready myself, and I shall be down shortly.”

  “Good, I will call Lucy to assist you.”

  When Elizabeth was ready, she joined her husband, and along with Georgiana, prepared to greet the guests. When they walked out onto the grounds, they delighted in the transformation. Flowers were everywhere – decorating the tables and the Maypole – and floral arrangements were scattered throughout the picnic area. It was a beautiful sight!

  The guests began to arrive promptly at noon, and Elizabeth and Darcy stood side by side to welcome them. Elizabeth was quite adept at remembering the names of people whom she had already met, and she made a diligent effort to remember those she was meeting for the first time.

  Darcy sought out those adults he knew, and Elizabeth gently encouraged him to approach those he did not. With Elizabeth on his arm and her friendly outgoing nature, he found himself relatively at ease. Elizabeth’s sparkling and gregarious manner charmed everyone, and Darcy could not have been more proud.

  Her gracious hospitality touched everyone, young and old. Her husband watched as she stooped down to an elderly woman who was watching the festivities from a chair, and then picked up a very little one, embracing the child as if she was family or an intimate friend.

  Everyone gathered about the tables when the meal was served, and Elizabeth was delighted with the delicious array of foods the kitchen help had prepared. Everyone seemed to enjoy it.

  After the meal, Mrs. Turner was called upon to get the Maypole activities started. This was the highlight of the day. At first she called for sixteen people whom she had previously selected and practiced with to come out and each take a ribbon. She then numbered them off, and gave them last minute reminders. A gentleman began playing a pipe, and the trained dancers wove their way inside and outside one another until the ribbons reached the bottom of the pole. They formed a pattern that Mrs. Turner called the Outside Trace, which was a basket-weave pattern using both inner and outer ribbons.

  Darcy and Elizabeth stood near the front of the guests, and Elizabeth watched in delight both the dancers and the ribbons. Georgiana was selected to be one of the sixteen, and her brother did not think she had ever looked more graceful or seemed to enjoy herself more. When the ribbons were completely wound down the pole, a beautifully braided colourful pole looked back at them.

  Mrs. Turner then called for sixteen more people, couples preferably. Elizabeth immediately tugged at Darcy’s sleeve to direct him toward the pole. As the ribbons were unwound from the previous dance, Mrs. Turner counted off and gave some simple directions. This time, the dance around the pole would be different, the Double Trace she called it. The ribbon was wound in pairs of colour by each couple. Elizabeth laughed as she and Darcy made their way around the pole, thinking more about whether they were to pass someone on the inside or the outside than how graceful they looked.

  As the ribbons wound their way around and down the pole, Elizabeth unexpectedly felt her head begin to spin. With a start, she realized she probably should not have done this – walking around in circles – especially after just eating. She held on to the ribbon – and even more tightly to her husband – forcing herself to endure through the end, but suffering again from an ever increasingly unsettled stomach.

  When the dance was over, everyone applauded the entertaining effort of the novices, and they all took a bow. Mrs. Turner called for more volunteers, and Elizabeth, instead of remaining with Darcy, quickly made her way toward the house. Darcy noticed and immediately followed, running to catch up with her.

  “Elizabeth! Is there anything wrong?”

  Elizabeth could not answer. She knew that if she opened her mouth to say anything, everything from the wonderful picnic meal would come up, and they were still in full view of everyone.

  “Elizabeth!”

  Elizabeth put her hand over her mouth,
and Darcy suddenly realized her difficulty. “Here, let me help you.”

  Elizabeth made it up the front steps and was almost to the door when Darcy knew something was imminent. Instead of taking her inside, he gently ushered her over to the edge of the steps, and stood between her and the guests while he let her lean over a bush.

  “I am so sorry, Fitzwilliam. I did not think that this would happen.”

  “Elizabeth, do not worry. You probably still have a bit of the influenza, and you have done too much today. Twirling around the Maypole most likely did not help. Do you think you can make it inside now?”

  “Yes.”

  Instead of walking, she grabbed the sleeve of Darcy's coat, steadying herself. She took in a deep breath to help calm her stomach and her nerves.

  “I do feel better now.”

  “I do not care how you feel now. I insist that you go inside and rest. I shall make apologies for you to everyone. You are still not well.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No, Fitzwilliam,” she said with a weak smile. “I am well.”

  “You are not well. Now, are you going to come in with me, or shall I pick you up right here and carry you in myself?”

  “My dearest, caring Fitzwilliam, yesterday I suffered from a twenty-four hour illness. That is over.”

  “Well, it certainly does not appear to be.”

  “Fitzwilliam,” she answered him slowly, and looked into his concerned eyes. “I am no longer sick today. I feel ill because… because we are going to have a baby.”

  The words did not seem real to him, as hard as he had tried to put the possibility out of his mind.

  “You… you are?”

  “No, we are! Dr. Wilton confirmed it yesterday. But I was also suffering from a mild stomach upset. I did not want him to tell you. I wanted to tell you myself. I had planned to tell you under different circumstances than this, but yes, we are going to have a baby!”