“Yes, ma’am, I will!” Jessie called over her shoulder. “Please tell Mazie and Mrs. Becker I will be back tomorrow.”
Elizabeth entered the house to find that Mazie had poured the pan of gooseberries on the kitchen table where they had immediately rolled off. They were now covering the floor, and Mrs. Becker was on her knees trying to gather them.
“Oh, Mrs. Becker! Please do not worry about those. I shall sweep them up.” She glanced anxiously at Mazie, who stood with her mouth open in shock. “Mazie, fetch me the broom.”
As Mazie ran off, her mother moaned loudly and water spread in a circle around her. Elizabeth knew what that meant! Annie’s water had broken, and the baby was coming. Before she had time to react though, Tom Becker came through the door. Assessing the scene, he ran to help his wife to her feet. A hard labour pain caused Annie to cry and bend over, holding her belly. Mazie began to cry.
“Mr. Becker, it is up to you to fetch the midwife. Please take Mazie with you, and I shall make your wife comfortable until you return.”
He hesitated until his wife cried, “Do as she says, Tom!” Instantly, he was out the door with Mazie in his arms, screaming for her mother.
“It is best if Mazie is with him, for you need to concentrate on yourself,” Elizabeth said as she put an arm around the expectant mother. “Come, I want to get you out of these wet clothes and into bed.”
BY THE TIME WILLIAM and Mr. Sturgis had finished inspecting Mr. Hanson’s property and suggestions had been made for the standing water, it was late. Tom Becker had not yet returned, so William dismissed Sturgis, who headed straight back to Pemberley, while he went toward the Beckers’ house to retrieve Elizabeth. Once there, a strange feeling came over him as he tied Zeus to a post near the front door. No one had come out to greet him, and it was eerily silent. Then a scream filled the hush. One word flew from his lips.
“Elizabeth!”
Hastening inside the cabin, William instantly realised that it was Mrs. Becker’s cry he had heard. The door of the Becker’s bedroom was partly open, and he could hear Elizabeth speaking calmly but firmly to her. He dared not look in the door, for fear of invading the woman’s privacy.
“Remember, breathe deeply and slowly! That is it! Now, let your breath out very slowly,” Elizabeth was saying. “You are doing well.” He heard the shuffling of feet. “Let me see who has arrived. I shall be right back.”
Suddenly, she was before him. “William, thank God! Mr. Becker and Mazie have gone for the midwife, but I need help now.”
Elizabeth rushed to a nearby basket and picked up something white. As she held it up, he noted that it looked like what she had on—an apron that covered her chest, arms and lap. Holding it out, she ordered, “Put this on.”
Without hesitation, William slipped it over his head, and as she rushed behind him to tie the strings, she almost chuckled. “It is too small, but it shall have to do.” Then she began to give more instructions. “Draw some water and put it on the stove, then take several towels from that basket.” She pointed to one on the floor. “Make several towels into a soft bed on the table; you will be washing the baby after he is born.”
William froze. “But... but the midwife—”
“The midwife will not arrive in time. The baby is coming now!”
As quickly as Elizabeth had appeared, she vanished. Still in disbelief, William grabbed the bucket and headed to the well. As he pumped the water, he considered how scared he was and, consequently, how frightened Elizabeth must be. After all, he was simply heating water; she was delivering a baby.
Once in the kitchen again, he poured the water into a large kettle and set it on the stove. He stoked the waning fire beneath it, and upon seeing how little wood was left to burn, added more. Amid cries of pain so severe that they caused him to cringe, William placed several towels on the table, creating a bed. It seemed forever before the water was warm, but just as Mrs. Becker’s cries intensified, coming closer together, he was able to fill a bowl and set it on the table next to the towels. Pleased to have accomplished his tasks, a piercing cry filled the house causing William to hold his breath. It was followed by an eerie silence before Elizabeth rushed into the room with a bundle in her arms. As she opened the blanket he could see the child was not moving and his skin was gray.
“He is not breathing!” Elizabeth said as loudly as she dared in a panicked voice. She lay him down on the towels and ran a finger in his mouth to clear anything that might be obstructing his throat.
“My hands are too slippery!” she protested, her voice breaking. “Pick him up by his heels, but be careful not to drop him when I strike him on the back.”
Without questioning, William did as she asked. The moment Elizabeth struck the baby between the shoulder blades, he began to wail. Smiling as tears streamed down her face, she looked at William. Unsurprised at the relief in his face, she took a deep breath and resumed the business at hand.
“I must attend to Mrs. Becker.”
“How is she faring?”
“She is doing well, but I must inform her that the baby is perfectly fine—all ten toes and fingers,” Elizabeth was smiling now. “It is up to you to wash him whilst I finish up. Keep one hand on him at all times, do not let him roll off the table.”
William could not stop smiling as the boy howled. “Hush,” he said, soothing the child. “You are part of the world now, young man. No need to keep protesting the abrupt removal from your sanctuary. Besides, the worst of it is over.” The baby began to calm a little as he listened to William’s deep baritone. “You should know that I have been enlisted to give you a bath. And, while I am no expert at washing babies, the warm water should make you feel a lot better.” As William began the washing, the baby’s eyes went wide, and his cries became whimpers. “I told you that you would like it.”
Just at that second the front door flew open, banging against the wall. It scared the baby, and he began to cry louder than before. Tom Becker was the first to rush inside, followed by the midwife and then Mazie. Tom froze at the sight of his son, but seeing that the baby was well, the midwife rushed past him into the bedroom.
“My wife?” he asked William.
“Mrs. Darcy says that she is doing well.”
Mazie, not as reticent as her father, ran to push a chair to the table and climbed onto it. By the time her father joined her at the table, William was wrapping the crying boy in a clean towel.
When at last he handed the child to his father, Mazie challenged him, “Did you hurt him?” she said protectively. “It is not nice to hurt babies.”
“Do not be rude, Mazie,” her father admonished. “Mr. Darcy did nothing to your brother. He cries because he is hungry.” Then he smiled at William. “Thank you does not begin to convey all that I feel, Mr. Darcy. I do not know what we would have done—”
William sought no praise, so he held up a hand to stop him. “I did very little. If you want to praise anyone, then it should be Mrs. Darcy. She delivered your son. I merely bathed him.”
Becker looked at the child in his arms. “You picked a fine woman to wed, if I am allowed to say so, sir. Mrs. Darcy has been a blessing to so many.” Then he went toward the bedroom. “Come, Mazie. Let us take the baby to your mother. I just imagine she would like to see how he looks all cleaned up. And your brother is hungry.”
“Can he have a biscuit? I saved him one of mine,” Mazie said as they entered the room.
Her question made William smile and shake his head. Then noting the mess left in the kitchen, including the gooseberries still covering the floor, he began to straighten up. He had just finished and was rolling down his cuffs, when Elizabeth reappeared. Untying her soiled apron, she noticed that William still wore his.
Pursing her lips to keep from smiling, she said, “Here, let me help you out of that.” William turned his back and she untied the apron, then he pulled it over his head. Taking it, Elizabeth threw it on top of a basket of dirty clothes. “Jessie will wash everything to
morrow, I am sure.”
“Jessie?”
“The maid I lent to Mrs. Becker,” Elizabeth said matter-of-factly.
“I see,” William said, looking about teasingly. “And where exactly is she?”
“Unfortunately, I sent her back to the manor before the baby decided to be born. She wished to speak to Mrs. Reynolds about a few things that the Beckers needed.”
“May I ask you another question?
“Certainly.”
“How did you learn to be a midwife?”
Elizabeth laughed self-consciously. “I am no midwife. Until today, I had never brought a baby into the world. Well, not alone.”
“Then, how—“
“In this case, I had no choice, but I confess that when I was a great deal younger, I helped Mrs. Harris deliver a tenant’s child. Mrs. Harris was the closest thing that Meryton had to an apothecary until I was almost fifteen. She lived alone in the woods near Longbourn, and she had a cure for anything that ailed you. In addition, she delivered all the babies for miles around. She never asked a farthing for her services, so she was especially popular among the poor. I was fascinated with her abilities and, against my mother’s warnings, by the age of ten, I spent my mornings following her about. My parents thought that I was merely taking walks.”
“But to deliver a baby? It is unheard of for an unmarried woman to watch such a thing, much less a mere girl.”
“So it is. But you must realise that my first experience was unplanned. Mrs. Harris and I were at a tenant’s cottage when a woman’s baby decided to be born during a thunderstorm. With no way to leave, I was stuck for the duration. And with no one else to help her, Miss Harris enlisted my services.”
“Were you not afraid?”
“I was, but Mrs. Harris never got ruffled, and she taught me to stay calm.” Elizabeth looked off, as though recalling the incident. “I suppose that I did not want to disappoint her, so I pretended bravery that I certainly did not feel. Eventually, with practice, I became less fearful. Before she died, she said that I should consider taking her place.” Chuckling, she added, “Can you imagine me as Meryton’s apothecary?”
“After tonight, I can imagine just that.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Given time, you will learn the folly of your words.”
“I suppose we could debate that forever, but we have a more pressing problem.”
“Oh?”
“If you do not fancy sleeping in the barn, we must leave now. The sun is near to setting, and the wind has picked up. If it rains, darkness will come earlier.”
“I had not thought of that. There is barely enough room for the family, and the midwife in here. Just let me see if everything is still well, and if so, we can leave.”
“I shall go to the barn to retrieve our horses.”
Elizabeth watched until William was out the door, then she joined the Beckers and the midwife to see how Annie was faring and to admire the baby once more.
WHEN ELIZABETH FINALLY exited the house, William was holding a hand over his brow, shielding his eyes from the sun as he scanned the sky in the direction of Pemberley. Elizabeth followed his gaze to a group of ominous black clouds over their home. The contrast between the sunlight where they were and the storm brewing was astounding. Suddenly, a large bolt of lightning flew out of one huge black cloud, striking the earth below.
William began counting. “One... two... three... four... fi—” Before he finished the last word, a thunderous rumble filled the air. “The storm is less than a mile away. We cannot ride all the way to Pemberley, but I think we can take shelter in the cottage.” Without waiting for agreement, he untied Phoebe and helped Elizabeth into the saddle. Then he mounted Zeus.
“Are you fearless enough to keep up with me?” He said with a smirk. Elizabeth nodded. “Then hold on for dear life!”
William was off in a flash, with Phoebe instinctively following the stallion without any prompting from Elizabeth. It took all her strength to hang on to the reins as the little mare galloped for all she was worth, trying to catch Zeus. Rain began coming down in sheets, whipped by the wind, just as the brick house came into view. Finally gaining the yard, William headed straight for the shed that served as a barn. Jumping off Zeus, it took all his effort to open the door against the wind. But once that was accomplished, he motioned for Elizabeth to go in before pulling Zeus in behind her.
They were soaked to the bone, and as William pulled the saddles from their mounts and led them to a stall, Elizabeth began to shiver. Once he was done with the horses, William closed the front door and pulled Elizabeth toward the door on the side next to the house.
“You did not lock the door.”
“No. There is nothing here but hay and horses. And I do not think anyone would be foolish enough to steal Pemberley’s horses—not unless they wish to hang.” William had taken off his hat and slapped it on his leg. “We are both soaked to the skin. Come, let us get inside the house and dry off.”
He started to move, but Elizabeth grabbed his arm. “Wait! What about the person who—” William’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Someone could be... we could be intruding,” Elizabeth stammered earnestly.
“I do not take your meaning. Other than the few occasions when I have stayed here, this house has been unoccupied since Mother died.”
Elizabeth rocked back on her heels. “But, you—I thought.” Suddenly, she went silent.
“Look! The rain has let up a bit. We should get inside while we can.”
Chapter 28
The cottage
The downpour intensified just before William and Elizabeth reached the porch and the storm began blowing the rain crosswise. Lightning struck a tree nearby, causing a limb to fall. Since the roof of the porch was not large enough to protect them, William endeavoured to shield Elizabeth by pressing her closer to the door and covering her with his body while he tried the key. It seemed to take forever to unlock the door.
“I have it!” he shouted above another blast of thunder.
Suddenly the door flew open and Elizabeth nearly fell into the house. Fortunately William grabbed her arm in time to steady her. Unable to see well in the darkness, the only thing she could recognise was the outline of a large table in the middle of the room.
“Stand here until I light a candle,” William instructed.
Elizabeth’s eyes followed William’s dark figure as he moved toward a piece of furniture standing against the wall. She heard a drawer open and the sounds of searching inside it. Directly, a tinderbox was placed on the table, and sparks began to fly as a piece of steel was struck with a flint. Almost immediately a flame began and two chamber candlesticks 14 were instantly pulled from a shelf overhead and lit. Then the fire in the tinderbox was smothered with the damper before being placed back in the drawer. Placing one candlestick in the middle of the table, William took the other and headed toward the hall.
“Come. You must get out of those wet clothes.”
Elizabeth followed him into the bedroom, very conscious of the fact that she had nothing to wear once her clothes were removed. William set the candle on top of the fireplace mantle and walked over to a panelled wall. Pushing on a particular spot caused two doors to pop open, exposing a long, narrow closet. Inside it, at one end, stood a tall, slim chest with six drawers.
“Although I leave clothes here on occasion, I fear there are none here at present. However, there should be a blanket or perhaps a sheet or two in this chest if my memory serves. In the winter, there are usually quilts as well.”
From the bottom drawer, William withdrew a thin blanket, bringing it up to his nose for a sniff. “It still smells clean, though it was likely placed in this chest after last hunting season.” He held it out to her. “I fear it will have to do.”
Elizabeth took the offering. “Thank you.”
Then he made a twirling motion with his finger. “Turn around and I shall undo your buttons for you.”
She did as he asked, wondering all the w
hile he worked if he was as affected by her nearness as she was with his. Shaking like a leaf by the time he was done, Elizabeth was surprised to turn around and find him gone.
Then from the kitchen he called, “Remind me to tell Mrs. Reynolds to replenish the blankets and sheets and to send two quilts. If someone is stranded here in the future, they would be useful.”
He said nothing more as she undressed, so when she was down to her chemise, which was barely damp, she laid her clothes on the only chair in the room, wrapped the blanket around herself and sat down on the end of the bed.
Truth be told, Elizabeth’s mind was awhirl with one goal. She felt that God, in His wisdom, had provided the storm to bring them together and it was up to her to make the most of it.
Suddenly, William stepped back in the room carrying a box of wood, which he set near the hearth. Instantly, he crouched in order to add it to the fire. He had divested himself of his coat, waistcoat and cravat and rolled up his sleeves. A perfect specimen of manly beauty, the dark hair on his chiselled chest was visible at the top of his partially unbuttoned shirt. Elizabeth wondered if he had undone the buttons with the aim of taking the shirt off, but had gotten distracted. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for the tantalising view. All at once, a picture of him with shirt open, as he had been in London, came to mind, and a tingling sensation began deep inside her. The sensation was so unsettling that she took two deep breaths to calm herself. It did not help.
“You should be in bed.” His voice brought her back to the present.
“My hair is damp. Before I go to bed, I need to let it down and dry it. Else I am apt to come down with a sore throat.”
Still squatting, William twisted on his heels to look at her. Then he stood and went to the chest again. “There may be a towel left in here.” He opened a drawer. “Yes, here are two.” Pulling them both out, he walked to where she sat. “With hair as thick as yours, you may need both.”
Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple Page 47