by Kara Louise
As he walked out, he spoke firmly with Mrs. Reynolds. “If anything happens, if Elizabeth wants me in here at all, and especially when the baby comes, I want to be notified at once!”
“Yes, sir,” the housekeeper replied. In the state he was in, Darcy was not a man to be countered.
Darcy walked out and joined a fidgety Mr. Collins in the drawing room. He looked at him and wondered how he would ever be able to spend an evening alone with this man. A whole evening! Hours! Was there some sort of errand on which he could send him? Could Darcy feign illness and retreat to his room? No, not on this night. He would remain here all night waiting for any news of Elizabeth’s condition and the baby’s arrival.
Darcy was in no mood to sit, and particularly in no mood to talk, so he paced, as any anxious father-to-be would. He was perfectly content to wait in silence, but knew from the eager look on Collins's face that was most likely not to be.
Shortly after, the midwife arrived, followed by the doctor. Darcy welcomed them and showed them to the room. He hoped to get some information from Charlotte or Mrs. Reynolds when they opened the door, but their only words to him were that his wife was fine, and he should just try to remain calm. They would let him know when anything happened.
“Try to remain calm!” He repeated the words to himself as he walked away. “How can I do that knowing what my wife is going through in there… and it is all my fault!” Just as he reached the drawing room, he heard Elizabeth cry out again. He was sure that her cries were more intense and getting closer and closer together. He looked in and saw Collins sitting there waiting to assault his already fragile nerves. He took a deep breath as he walked in to face him again.
“Sir,” Collins began, bowing humbly to the prestigious man. “There is no need to worry. This blessed event takes place every day, all over the world, from time beginning through time ending.”
“Thank you for that reminder, Mr. Collins.” Darcy ran his fingers roughly through his hair.
At that moment, the muffled sound of Elizabeth’s cries could be heard again from the other room. Darcy stiffened as it continued for an unbearable length of time.
“It sounds as though your wife may be experiencing some difficulty birthing. My precious Charlotte had an arduous time of it, but most women do. She endured quite admirably.”
“I am glad to hear that.” Darcy feigned interest and paced as he continued to worry about Elizabeth.
“Of course she does not think it is within her constitution to go through that again, so we have agreed it would be best if we not take the risk and be together anymore…in the biblical way.”
Darcy abruptly raised his head, surprised and a little taken back by what Collins had just said, and narrowed his eyes as he looked incredulously at the man. “What?”
“We do not want to take any chances, for her sake.”
Darcy looked worriedly toward the door where Elizabeth was suffering terrible pain, wondering whether she would feel the same way. Lord, I hope not! Then he looked again at Mr. Collins and determined there were most likely other reasons for Charlotte to desire to put an end their intimacy.
Eager to put that line of thought of out his head, he decided to change the subject. “Mr. Collins, how do you like being clergyman at Hunsford?”
“Oh, how considerate of you to ask, sir. It has been my pleasure to serve under my patroness, your aunt, for another year, and she is the most generous of ladies. My congregation is a lowly lot, and many needs abound. It remains my humble duty to see to those needs, and I am most fortunate to have your aunt, so willing, so condescending, to help out the villagers when they are in want of something.”
“Is that so?” Darcy was sceptical, wondering whether his aunt truly did this with selfless motives.
Darcy heard another cry coming from Elizabeth's room, and he tensed. How he wished he could do something to help her. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, fingering it nervously before he brought it up and wiped it across his forehead.
The evening progressed slowly, and Darcy was concerned that he had not heard anything recently about Elizabeth's condition. Mr. Collins tried futilely to assure him that his wife was most likely doing well and not to worry, but Darcy continued to pace. The clergyman soon realized that Darcy was in no mood for conversation, after receiving only one word answers and sometimes solely a guttural sound he had a difficult time interpreting, so he remained silent. For that, Darcy was grateful.
As Darcy walked around the room, he occasionally glanced at the clock on the mantel as it ticked away the hours. His wife had her first pain over six hours earlier. He looked over at Collins who had fallen asleep in the chair and was completely oblivious to his own occasional ear piercing snore. Darcy mused that even that was preferable to his conversation.
At length, Charlotte came out, prompting Darcy to jump to his feet and ask, “How is she?”
“Sit down, Mr. Darcy. She is fine. We desire her to rest between pains, so I have left her to be with just the doctor, midwife, and Mrs. Reynolds. She is truly doing quite well, and I believe the baby should arrive in no time.”
Darcy breathed a deep sigh of relief. He looked up at his wife’s friend. “Is it truly that bad?”
Charlotte gave him a reassuring smile. “I suppose when you are in the midst of it, it seems unbearable, but once you hold that little one in your arms, all thoughts of pain and discomfort disappear.”
Darcy looked over at Mr. Collins, who had not stirred, even though his wife entered the room. He looked back at Charlotte and said, “You have a fine son, Mrs. Collins.”
The two continued to talk quietly, and before he knew it, Mrs. Reynolds stepped into the room.
“Mr. Darcy, you may now come in and join your wife.”
“Already?” Darcy barely acknowledged her and rushed past her, reaching the door to the room in record time. He pushed open the door and saw his wife, looking tired and flushed, but radiant, holding a wrapped bundle in her arms. He stopped abruptly.
“Elizabeth… are you all right?” He did not know what else to say.
“Yes, Fitzwilliam. Just tired. Come here.”
He walked over slowly, keeping his eye on his wife, but occasionally dropping his glance down to the bundle she held. The doctor and the midwife left the room so the couple could be by themselves.
“Happy birthday, Fitzwilliam.”
He looked at her questioningly.
“He was born just after midnight, my love. He was born on your birthday!”
Darcy drew in a deep breath as he suddenly felt a wave of euphoria sweep through him, unlike anything he had ever experienced. “Indeed, so he was!” he said with a broad smile, tears filling his eyes. Suddenly it occurred to him, “A boy? We have a boy?”
“Yes. Would you like to hold our son?”
“I should like that very much.” He reached out and took the baby from Elizabeth and held him, silently gazing at his face. “He is beautiful, Elizabeth. Perfect. I am convinced he is a baby without fault!”
Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, he shall have faults enough. I shall remind you that you said that in two years.”
Darcy sat down on the bed next to her. “Oh, Elizabeth, I can hardly believe this!” He looked over at her. “You and I made him!”
“It is a miracle, is it not?”
“So it would seem.” Darcy could not help but grin as he watched the baby squirm in his arms. “Thomas Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Elizabeth looked at her husband in surprise. “Truly? Are you quite certain you do not want Fitzwilliam as his first name?”
“I am utterly convinced of it! I think Thomas is a strong sounding name. And if he takes after your father at all, then we know he shall love to read and have a clever wit.”
“And we know that if he takes after you, he shall be stubborn, proud, spoiled, but absolutely irresistible!”
Darcy took one hand and cupped Elizabeth's face. “Was it terribly difficult, my dear?”
“A
ll of it was worth it!” Elizabeth looked at the tiny babe in her husband’s arms. “Is he not the most beautiful little boy you have ever seen?”
Darcy could barely articulate in words how he felt. “He is… quite… handsome.” Almost reluctantly, he placed the babe back in Elizabeth’s arms.
“Just like his father. He definitely has your dark curly hair!” Her fingers traced lightly down the baby’s face. “And it appears that he inherited the Darcy dimple, as well.”
“I can see already that he has your fine green eyes.” Darcy said with admiration. Then he laughed. “And by his squirming, I foresee that he will have your lively nature.”
Elizabeth laughed and looked up at her husband who suddenly bore a pensive look. “What is it, my love?”
“Would you… do you think you will want to go through this again for another child?”
“Fitzwilliam, what kind of question is that? Of course I would! Why do you ask?”
Darcy answered sheepishly. “No reason. Only something Collins told me.”
“And after spending an evening with him are you now giving credence and merit to his homilies?”
Darcy laughed, feeling a bit foolish. “No, I was honestly hoping that what he said would not be true for us.”
Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously, but said nothing. “I am sure it would not. Was the evening tortuous for you, having to spend it with my cousin?”
Darcy smiled. “Only for a portion. Fortunately, he fell asleep. But Elizabeth, I was more worried about how tortuous this has been for you.”
She smiled warmly and looked down at her little baby boy. “Holding little Thomas in my arms seems to have helped me forget the intensity of the pain.”
“I am grateful for that. And I am grateful to Mrs. Collins. She actually came out and kept me company for a while, reassuring me about how you were doing. We had a pleasant conversation. She helped pass the time while I waited.”
“I am glad.” Elizabeth looked down at little Thomas. “I suppose we should send for Georgiana. She will be surprised to hear our baby has arrived.”
“I shall do that directly.” He trailed his finger across Thomas’s face.
“I hope you are happy with your birthday present. It is not what I planned, but…”
Darcy leaned over and kissed Elizabeth and then kissed the baby. “This is the greatest gift I could ever have asked for or even imagined.” He wiped a tear that escaped down his cheek. “Our son, Elizabeth. Our beautiful son.”
A First Anniversary
Elizabeth smiled contentedly at little Thomas who lay in her arms making sweet cooing noises. She looked down at his tiny form, wrapped securely in a small blanket, and thought how fortunate she and her husband were to have this precious little boy. In the two weeks since he had been born, he had found his way into their hearts in the most powerful way. Neither of them could have anticipated how quickly that would happen.
Elizabeth knew what it was to love. She had grown up with a strong sense of familial love, particularly for her elder sister and father. Then she had come to experience a completely new and vibrant love when she had fallen in love with Fitzwilliam Darcy. As they approached the first anniversary of their wedding day, she could still not imagine anything stronger.
But this love was unlike either of those. She was amazed that from the moment she beheld his tiny features, heard his cry, and touched his fingers and toes, how her love for Thomas had blossomed and continued to grow. She now knew the depth of a mother’s love and nothing would ever surpass that feeling.
She was still feeling somewhat fatigued from the birth, and therefore had been sleeping a little later than was usual. But she always had a smile at the ready when her husband returned to their room each morning bringing Thomas to her. Just seeing the tender way he looked at his son and the gentle way he handled him brought tears of joy to Elizabeth’s eyes. She could not be happier.
Darcy sat beside her on the bed, eyes full of admiration for his wife and his son. He often expressed how grateful he was for the two of them.
He kissed his wife and stood up. His solicitor would be arriving soon to discuss a business matter. He knew there was a possibility that he might have to leave them for a few days, but he would not tell Elizabeth until he knew for certain.
“If there is anything you need, I shall be in my study. Mr. Harlton is arriving this morning, and I need to be ready for him.”
“Your solicitor? What brings him here?”
“Some minor business. Nothing at all to concern you.”
Elizabeth looked at her son with tender eyes. “I shall go to the sitting room shortly. Would you please ring for Lucy and Mrs. Wilding?”
Darcy nodded and did as she asked.
Mrs. Wilding arrived first. She had been waiting for Elizabeth’s call since she had handed little Thomas to his father earlier. As the baby’s nursemaid, she was always ready to do as bid in her care for him.
Elizabeth asked her to take him to the sitting room where she would join them when she was dressed. As Mrs. Wilding walked out, Lucy came in to assist Elizabeth in dressing for the day.
*~*~*
Elizabeth joined Thomas and Mrs. Wilding in the sitting room where she enjoyed spending time with her son. She could recline on the sofa to read or rest if needed and Thomas would often sleep peacefully beside her in the cradle or sometimes in her arms. Georgiana came in shortly after, eager to spend some time with her new nephew.
“How is Thomas this morning, Elizabeth?” She leaned over and placed her finger in his hand, smiling when he closed his fist around it.
“He appears to be very happy. I am certain I saw him smile when he saw his aunt walk in.”
Georgiana laughed. “May I hold him?”
“Of course.”
Georgiana picked him up and carried him about the room, speaking to him in baby words. When she prepared to leave, she handed him off to Mrs. Wilding.
Since the baby made his appearance a full two weeks early, Mrs. Reynolds had only just begun making inquiries to fill the position of nursemaid. Almost immediately after Thomas’s birth, Mrs. Reynolds interviewed fourteen women, three of whom she felt would suit superbly. Elizabeth asked to speak with those three women, and both she and the housekeeper had strongly agreed to hire Mrs. Wilding.
Mrs. Wilding was a widow with two grown sons. One had joined the navy and the other the militia. She had lived alone in a nearby village, renting an upstairs room in a milliner’s store. While having a respectable upbringing and marriage, she had fallen on hard times after her husband died.
Mrs. Reynolds had often spoken with her when she went to purchase items at the milliner’s shop, as Mrs. Wilding had worked there, as well. From their initial meeting, Mrs. Reynolds had been impressed by her polite manner and gentle ways, but she particularly noticed the way the woman responded to the children who came in with their parents. She was always very patient toward the children, having a smile that brought a gleam into her eyes and a sweet laugh that seemed always ready to come forth.
These were traits that Elizabeth had readily observed when she first met her, having watched how the woman’s eyes lit up upon seeing Thomas for the first time and the care she had taken in holding him. Elizabeth had known beyond a doubt that Mrs. Wilding was the woman she wanted to care for her son.
Elizabeth directed her attention back to her book, but was only able to read about ten minutes before feeling inclined to close her eyes. Thomas lay in his cradle at her side. Mrs. Wilding stood just outside the door discussing some nursery issues with Mrs. Reynolds. When she was finished, she peered in. Seeing that Mrs. Darcy was resting, she tiptoed in and sat down near the cradle so she could be near Thomas in case he wakened.
When she heard him begin to whimper about a quarter hour later, she reached in to stroke his cheek, hoping that would soothe him. Unfortunately, it did not, and he let out a wail.
Upon hearing her son cry, Elizabeth woke up. Or at least she made an attempt to
wake up. At first, she had a difficult time comprehending even the time of day and where she was. Although she could not form one coherent thought, she knew that she must get to the baby, and reached out her hands toward the sound of crying, her eyes looking wildly about her.
“Mrs. Darcy,” whispered Mrs. Wilding, gently touching her arm. “I am here. Thomas is only crying because he just now woke up.”
Elizabeth visibly relaxed and closed her eyes. She leaned her head back and took some deep breaths.
“I was in a sound sleep,” she said, shaking her head. “I have always been able to wake up directly from a nap. But it is very different now.”
“What is different is that you have had a baby and your body is merely trying to recover from nine months of taking care of two.” She smiled down at Elizabeth. “In addition, as you are feeding him yourself, that will take some getting used to. I am certain you will return to your normal self shortly.”
“I hope so.” Elizabeth opened her eyes and sighed. “I sometimes wonder how long I shall feel this fatigued.” Laughingly, she said, “It is very tiring!”
“Yes, I remember well. Would you like him?” Mrs. Wilding asked.
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
As she put Thomas into Elizabeth’s outstretched arms, Mrs. Wilding said, “He is such a good baby. He is very much like my younger son, Albert. He has a sweet disposition.”
“I think he does.” Elizabeth leaned over and kissed her son on his cheek. When he continued to whimper, she said, “I think perhaps I shall feed him. He is probably hungry.”
As Elizabeth prepared to feed him, Mrs. Wilding was ready to assist, holding a small blanket to cover her and the baby when she put him to her breast.
Once she was settled and Thomas was suckling and content, the nursemaid said, “If you will excuse me, Mrs. Darcy, I have a few things that need my attention in the nursery. Send for me if you need me.”
“Thank you, I shall.”