by Kara Louise
Darcy's heart beat so vigorously that he could barely breathe. He put his arms around Elizabeth and pulled her close in a fervent hug.
“Elizabeth, this is wonderful news! When you were sick the other day I wondered if you could possibly be with child. I found I was so excited about it, that I was actually disappointed when Dr. Wilton told me you were ill!”
“I hope you are not angry that we kept it from you.”
He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “No, of course not, but how do you feel now?”
“A little better. Let me go in and freshen up. I believe I just ate something that does not agree with me, and I should not have danced around the Maypole right after eating. It began to make me dizzy, and things only got worse after that.”
Elizabeth went in, and Darcy stood at the top of the steps for a moment, looking out at all the people enjoying the festivities. He felt on top of the world. But this time when he looked out, he watched as all the children ran back and forth on the grounds, danced around the maypole, flew kites high in the air, hit the croquet balls as hard as they could, and enjoyed rowing out on the lake. He could not believe that this same time next year, they would have a child of their own.
He walked down the steps towards a gathering of people. A young boy ran toward him holding a kite on a short length of string. Darcy could not restrain himself, and as the boy ran past, he reached out and picked him up, swinging him around a few times. When he put him down, the bystanders and the boy looked up at him in surprised amusement. The boy then ran on. Darcy watched him with the deepest smile that, at this moment, nothing could extinguish.
A Midsummer’s Day
Elizabeth awoke from a deep sleep and stretched. It was the worst part of the day for her, not due to having difficulty in waking fully, but due to her stomach churning with nausea. Since discovering in May that she was carrying the heir to Pemberley, she greeted each day with excitement and joyous elation tempered by the constant agitation in her stomach and the lack of desire to eat the sumptuous meals prepared in Pemberley’s kitchen.
She had vague memories of her mother experiencing something similar. When she was not quite six years old, there was a period of time when her mother rarely stirred from her room. The girls had been told she was ill, and Elizabeth and Jane fretted greatly over it. Inhuman sounds frequently came from their mother’s room, and Hill remained at her beck and call. At the end of her mother’s “illness,” Lydia was welcomed into their family.
That began her mother’s travails throughout the years over the plight of women having to bear children, her insistence that she would never go through such suffering again, yet lamenting over the fact that they did not have a son who would inherit Longbourn.
Elizabeth had determined that should she ever find herself in this most wonderful condition, she would not complain. Yet now she wanted nothing but to be done with it! She placed her hands flat about her belly, eager to notice a little enlarging, but there was no noticeable change. She took in a few slow breaths as another wave of discomfiture tormented her. She decided that she might allow herself to indulge in some silent complaints, but would never utter a word of protest that her husband, or anyone else, for that matter, might hear.
She slowly rolled to her side, facing the side of the bed where her husband normally slept. She knew he had probably been awake and up for several hours. He was likely in his study with his steward, Mr. Rollands, as they discussed every aspect of Pemberley. There would be additional workers needed to tend the crops and livestock. Tenants might have issues that required attention. If nothing else, his steward kept him apprised of anything occurring in the nearby villages that he deemed important. It seemed that when they were in residence at Pemberley, there was always enough to keep him occupied in the management of this great estate and beyond.
Elizabeth closed her eyes as she steeled herself to sit up. When another swirling wave assaulted her, she allowed herself to rest on her elbow, not wishing to lie back down. She waited for it to pass, and then slowly sat upright. With eyes still closed, she inhaled a few more deep breaths before attempting to stand.
She took a few wary steps over to the bell pull and gave it a tug. Sitting down in a nearby chair, she closed her eyes and rested her head in her hand as she waited for Lucy, her maid. When the door opened, she said softly, “Please, my rose muslin dress. Mr. Darcy has always complimented me when I wear it, and I know I must look so drab and pale.”
“On the contrary, my dear, you look beautiful. Perhaps more beautiful than ever!”
Elizabeth opened one eye to see that her husband had walked in the door. With every effort at smiling, she replied, “Surely, you jest.”
Darcy knelt down and grasped her hands within his. “Elizabeth, you have made a gallant effort to hide your discomfort from me, but I am quite certain you feel utterly dreadful right now.” He smiled. “Yet, I think you are truly beautiful.” He leant down and kissed her fingers. “I can think of nothing more beautiful than my wife carrying our son.”
Elizabeth laughed softly. “Son? What makes you so certain I am carrying a boy?”
Darcy tossed his head and gave a breathy chuckle. “I care not if it is a boy or a girl, but I only hoped to make you smile. I believe I was successful.”
“Has Georgiana left?”
Darcy nodded. “She was delighted with the birthday present we gave her. She has never been to the Lake District and was so looking forward to spending time up there with three of her closest friends.”
“Shall they get into any mischief, do you think?”
Darcy gave a quick shake of his head. “These girls? I highly doubt it. Besides, Mrs. Hanover will keep an eye on them.”
Elizabeth let out a thoughtful sigh. “Do you know what I hope?”
“No, tell me.”
“I hope Georgiana’s friends will all talk her into coming out next season. But I must confess that I am relieved she did not wish to make her debut this season because of how poorly I have felt.”
A wry smile appeared on Darcy’s face. “As a matter of fact, I spoke with Mrs. Hanover about that very thing. She is going to bring up the matter and see if the girls would be pleased if they all came out together.”
“I think that would be a marvellous idea!”
As he leaned over to kiss his wife lightly on the lips, Lucy stepped in. “Excuse me, did you ring for me?”
A smile still lit Elizabeth’s face as she glanced up at the young lady. “Yes, please, if you would be so kind as to draw me a warm bath, and it shall be my rose dress today.”
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy.”
“Can I get you anything?” Darcy asked.
Elizabeth nodded. “Would you have someone bring me a cup of tea and a biscuit? Have them bring it to the bath.”
“As you wish,” he said with a nod and a smile.
Her bath was drawn, and Elizabeth stepped in. She put her head back and closed her eyes as the warm, bubbly waters enveloped her. She found it pleasantly calming and soothing. She placed her hand over her belly as she thought of her little one, who was growing in a very similar environment and likely feeling much the same. The child she was carrying meant the world to her and her husband, and she would rejoice in every moment – whether times of glowing well-being or annoying discomfort – and would never allow a complaint to escape from her lips.
She smiled and bit her lower lip as she thought about how well she did back in her room. Her husband may have sensed her slight discomfort, but he was not aware just how unsettled she felt.
She heard the door open and turned her head, opening one eye. Her husband strolled in unceremoniously, carrying a tray with two cups of the requested tea and a biscuit. Instead of leaving it for her, he pulled a chair over and sat at the side of the cast-iron bathtub.
She saw the gleam in his eye and watched as he broke off a piece of the biscuit and brought it up to her mouth. She took it slowly, remembering the words of wise Mrs. Reynolds to take sma
ll bites and eat slowly.
He then handed the cup of tea to her, and she took a sip. It warmed her going down.
“Is it good?” Darcy asked, as he took a sip himself.
Elizabeth nodded as she leaned back and closed her eyes. “This is precisely what I needed. The biscuit and the tea and the bath are all perfect!”
“Hmmm, I am glad to hear that.” Darcy chuckled softly. “But I fear all is not perfect for me, however.”
Elizabeth shook her head with a laugh. “And why it is not perfect for you?”
“Too many bubbles,” he said, taking another sip of tea.
Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide. “Too many bubbles?” She looked into her cup of tea. “There are no bubbles in the tea! What can you possibly mean?”
Darcy waved his hand over the water and shook his head. “In the tub, my dear. Too many bubbles in the tub for my taste.”
Elizabeth’s jaw dropped and a blush spread across her cheeks as her husband stood up nonchalantly and nodded at the maid with a wink.
Elizabeth called out, “You had best behave yourself, Mr. Darcy, or Lucy here will have much to talk about with the other servants!”
“She knows better than that!” he said with a smile.
Elizabeth stole a glance at Lucy, who turned away, making a futile attempt to keep from grinning.
With a quick movement of her fingers, she splashed her husband, leaving a few of those bubbles on his face. He wiped them off with the back of his hand and then leaned over to kiss his wife.
“Take as much time as you need in here, Elizabeth. When you come downstairs, however, please come to my study. There is a matter I wish to discuss with you.” He smiled at her and then turned to walk away.
Elizabeth remained soaking in the soothing warm water until it began to grow cool. Once finished with the task of getting dressed, she took in several deep breaths to calm her stomach. She then went down the stairs very slowly to meet her husband.
When she walked in to the study, Darcy lowered the book he was reading and rose. He walked over to her and took her elbow, bringing her to a chair. Once she was seated, he returned to sit behind his desk, watching her expectantly. He then picked up what looked like a piece of correspondence.
“I received a letter,” he said, waving it in his hand.
“I can see that,” Elizabeth smiled. “From whom?”
“A friend from Cambridge, Edward Lindow. He and his wife live in Stratford-on-Avon.”
Elizabeth’s eyes brightened. “The home of William Shakespeare!”
“Indeed.” He leaned forward, his eyes searching hers. “Do you know which of his plays this line comes from? ‘O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!’”
“I most certainly do!” laughed Elizabeth. “I believe the line, ‘The course of true love never did run smooth…’ is from the same play!”
Together they said, “A Midsummer’s Night Dream.”
“Every year the town celebrates with a Midsummer Festival,” Darcy said. “The Lindows have extended an invitation to us to join them for it. Have you ever visited Stratford?”
Elizabeth’s hands clasped over her heart. “Oh, Fitzwilliam! I never have, but I would love to go. I have heard it is the most charming town. Have you been there?”
“Yes, on two occasions, but not for their Midsummer festivities.”
“I would so enjoy it!”
Fitzwilliam put up his hand. “Now, Elizabeth, I know you have gone to great lengths to hide your discomfort from me, but I have heard it in your voice, noticed it in your posture, and seen it in your eyes. I must insist that we go only if you are truly feeling well enough to travel.” His face grew grave. “If you are at all not up to this, my dear, I shall write and thank them, but tell them we are unable to accept.”
“Fitzwilliam, I can think of nothing I would like to do more. I am feeling better; I truly am.” She took in a deep breath to squelch the rumbling in her stomach that reminded her that she was not being quite truthful.
“And I saw that breath, Elizabeth. That tells me that even now you suffer, although perhaps only slightly. I shall leave it up to you, however. I can see that you are up and around more, so I know your symptoms are not as severe as they were initially. We have two weeks to decide, so we can see how you fare by then. Does that sound reasonable?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Do you know what they do at the Midsummer Festival?”
He looked down and perused the letter. “Apparently they have picnics and parades during the day, with bonfires at night. And then, of course, they put on Shakespeare’s play in the theatre.” He skewed his mouth and continued with a smile. “And the fairies are all let loose and love potions are sold in the market square for a few guineas.”
Elizabeth clasped her hands together. “Ah, it sounds like so much fun. I shall not allow anything to prevent us from going! I am determined… ‘to awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth…’” As she took in another deep breath, she looked hopefully at her husband and added, “In two weeks’ time.”
*~*~*
Elizabeth was encouraged that the more trying episodes seemed to be fewer and less frequent. Mrs. Reynolds’s sage advice helped her through those difficult times, and she felt confident she would feel well enough to go and participate in all the Midsummer festivities.
She finally convinced her husband to write a letter accepting their invitation, and once he had, she could think of nothing but this journey. Elizabeth was excited about the Midsummer Festival, meeting more of her husband’s friends, and visiting this quaint town. She was elated!
It was all she could talk about, and at every opportunity she asked her husband to tell her about the town, Holy Trinity Church, where Shakespeare was buried, and Anne Hathaway’s low thatch-roof cottage with timbered walls. There were sunken gardens and a beautiful park and lake, and of course, the theatre.
She began discussing her wardrobe with Lucy and deciding what she would bring. Their plan was to stay with the Lindows about a fortnight.
Elizabeth eagerly sent off a missive to Jane, the second since discovering she was with child, and this time she could acquaint her with the plans she and her husband had made to go to Stratford, as well as to tell her she was feeling much better. Her only concern was that Jane had not yet found herself in this most desirable condition.
While her husband was out one afternoon just three days before they were to leave, Elizabeth settled in the parlour with a copy of Shakespeare’s short play, A Midsummer’s Night Dream, and began to read.
She laughed as she read this piece of work that was actually a play about a play, and was filled with fairies and love potions. She looked forward to seeing it performed on a stage.
So absorbed in her reading, she barely heard a carriage pull up in front of the house. A short while later, she heard quick footsteps take the stairs and approach the room. Elizabeth lifted her eyes toward the door. Mrs. Reynolds appeared, her hands nervously rubbing together.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Darcy, but you have… she… Lady Catherine has arrived.”
“Lady Catherine?” Elizabeth abruptly stood up, prompting a wave of dizziness to pass over her. She brought one hand up to her forehead and grasped the back of the chair with the other to steady herself. “What can she possibly be doing here?”
Mrs. Reynolds shook her head as she rushed over to steady Elizabeth with a gentle hand. “That lady has the uncanny ability to arrive here unannounced and at the most inopportune time!” She let out a huff. “She claims she is here to assist you in your duties as Mistress of Pemberley while you are indisposed!”
“Indis…” Elizabeth closed her eyes as another wave of dizziness passed over her, this time accompanied by a tinge of nausea. “This cannot be!”
She glanced up at Mrs. Reynolds, whose face was filled with compassion. Elizabeth gave her a reassuring smile. “Tell Lady Catherine that I shall be with her shortly.”
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy. She is in the sitting ro
om.”
Elizabeth nodded her thanks and watched Mrs. Reynolds walk away. Her brows furrowed as she wondered what her husband’s aunt meant by saying she was here to assist her. She let out a sigh and hoped that she could make her understand without giving any offence that she did not require any additional assistance and was managing – and would manage – perfectly well.
As she walked out into the hall, she saw Mrs. Reynolds standing just outside the sitting room door. Elizabeth knew she would remain close by in case she needed her, but she felt confident enough in her relationship with Lady Catherine that she would be able to speak candidly with her. Their time spent at Rosings over Easter had given each of them a new appreciation for the other.
Elizabeth came to the door and whispered a soft “Thank you” to the housekeeper. She looked in and saw Lady Catherine standing erect at the window. Both hands were wrapped tightly about the end of her cane, and her gaze swept across the prospect.
“Good afternoon, Lady Catherine.”
Elizabeth’s words appeared to startle the woman out of her reverie, and she spun around.
“Good afternoon, Elizabeth.”
“To what do we owe this honour?”
Lady Catherine waved her hand through the air. “It has been ages since I have visited Pemberley. I felt I should come and see if there was anything I could do to assist you… in your condition, of course.”
“Of course,” said Elizabeth. “I appreciate your concern, but I believe everything is going along splendidly, thank you.”
“But there is so much that needs tending. I shall take an inventory and give instruction to the servants what needs to be done.”
“I assure you, Lady Catherine. There is no need…”
“Nonsense!” Lady Catherine’s eyes took in the length of Elizabeth, but came to a rest on her belly. She did not make any attempt to disguise the troubled look that crossed her face. Every feature seemed to tighten. “Are you quite certain you are with child?”
Elizabeth let out a soft chuckle. “I most certainly am, Lady Catherine. I have all the symptoms!” Elizabeth walked over to a chair to sit and invited the woman to sit as well.