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Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple

Page 82

by Brenda J. Webb


  “Not if I can help it.”

  “It would appear that all is well between the two of you.”

  “It is. We love each other ardently.”

  “Good to hear.”

  William cleared his throat. “However, there is a matter concerning Elizabeth that I feel I must address.”

  Mr. Bennet’s brows knit. “Does it concern Mrs. Bennet?”

  “Perhaps we should walk further into the garden so that we cannot be overheard.”

  Since William ignored his question, it was obvious to Mr. Bennet what the subject would be.

  “Then by all means let us walk.”

  THE NEXT DAY

  When the Darcys’ coach was ready to leave Longbourn the next morning, Elizabeth was astonished to have her mother lock arms with her and walk a few feet away from the others. William, who was speaking to Mr. Bennet, followed them with his eyes, causing her father to look in the same direction.

  “I do not see why you cannot stay longer,” Mrs. Bennet complained to her second born.

  “We cannot for William has business in London that must be addressed.”

  In actuality, there was no business to attend, but she and William were eager to leave Meryton behind now that Jane and Charles had left.

  Shrugging, her mother continued, “Lizzy, I want to apologise if I upset you regarding the matter of standing up with Jane.”

  “Mama, there is no need to discuss—”

  “Yes, there is. I was entirely wrong, and you did an excellent job. Can you forgive me?”

  Elizabeth was shocked. Never could she remember her mother apologising to her for anything. She stammered, “I... of course, I can. I mean, I do.”

  “Excellent!” Mrs. Bennet crowed. “Now, let us never mention it again. Be sure to write to me every week once you get to Pemberley. Tell me how you and the child are faring, for I shall worry if you do not.”

  “I... I will, Mama.”

  “Elizabeth?” Her husband’s rich baritone broke through her bewilderment, and she looked back at William. He was holding a hand toward her.

  “We must go, Mama.”

  With that, Mrs. Bennet grabbed Lizzy and hugged her so tightly she almost protested. “We shall miss you!”

  Letting go of her daughter, she rushed to speak to William. “Please come back soon. There is always a place for you and Elizabeth at Longbourn.”

  William answered graciously. “Thank you. We shall, though it will not likely be until after the child is born.”

  When William turned back to bid Elizabeth’s father goodbye, he found in his expression a question—was William satisfied with the results?

  With a sly smile, William responded, “It looks as though it may have worked.”

  Unfortunately, Elizabeth heard. “What may have worked?”

  Without missing a beat, he replied, “My prayers.” Then he winked at Mr. Bennet. “It is not raining.”

  After they were ensconced in the vehicle and it began to roll down the drive, Elizabeth waved through the back window until the house was out of sight. Then she settled into the seat with a puzzled look.

  “Are you not happy, my darling?” William asked, bringing her hand to his lips.

  “I am, truly I am, but something strange seems to have happened to Mama.”

  “Oh?”

  “I think she may have suffered an apoplexy of some sort.”

  William tried not to smile. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because, today she acted entirely different—at least towards me. I hardly know what to make of it.”

  “Perhaps, with Jane’s marriage, she was reminded of what the future will be like when no daughters are left to marry, and she decided to turn over a new leaf.”

  Elizabeth considered that theory. “Perhaps. I really have no idea, but I shall wait until Jane comes to Pemberley and see what she makes of it.”

  “That sounds like a logical thing to do.” William pulled her into his lap. “Now, Mrs. Darcy, since I have you alone, I believe we should seize the opportunity.”

  Elizabeth smiled mischievously. “I agree, sir. You shall never hear me complain,” she said as she kissed him.

  Chapter 50

  Pemberley

  March 3, 1813

  Late afternoon

  Although today was Lady Anne’s birthday, it was given little thought by the occupants of Pemberley, for Elizabeth Darcy had been in labour since the evening before, and their focus was on her. As the hours passed, William, who was normally well mannered, had become increasingly irritable whenever he addressed Mr. Camryn. And, though the physician was pleased whenever a prospective father was supportive of his wife during childbirth, he had never encountered any man as engaged in the process as Fitzwilliam Darcy. Be that as it may, he did his best to stay unruffled amidst a steady barrage of questions and expressions of uncertainty from the father-to-be, even including lately, when due to the baby’s reluctance to leave his current quarters, he had suggested that Mrs. Darcy walk the halls in a bid to hasten the child’s birth.

  Having been kept busy, Camryn had not eaten since breaking his fast that morning and was beginning to feel the effects of that omission. Thus, when Mrs. Reynolds brought a dinner tray upstairs and insisted that he sit down and eat, he acquiesced. Comfortably ensconced in Mrs. Darcy’s sitting room, he had just finished his meal and was resting his eyes when the midwife who had accompanied him to Pemberley rushed into the room. Mrs. Posey, who was new to the profession, had come along to observe and learn, and her inexperience brought with it certain drawbacks.

  “Mr. Camryn,” Mrs. Posey said, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting the object of her report to appear. “Mr. Darcy said that I should tell you that the walking has not helped in the least. He said, in fact, that it has only served to make his wife exhausted.”

  Sighing heavily, he said, “Please tell Mr. Darcy that, other than walking, I can think of nothing to prod the child into being born sooner. I am certain the babe is in the proper position, so it will come when it is good and ready.”

  “But... but,” the woman stuttered. “I dare not say that to Mr. Darcy. He is akin to a madman right now. Whenever I try to be helpful, he looks right through me with those piercing blue eyes. Perhaps I should wait here, and when he comes looking for me, you can tell him yourself.”

  Just then another cry echoed down the hallway outside. That Mrs. Darcy was in great pain was clear. She had endured the first half of her labour trying to be brave, possibly because she did not want to grieve her husband, for that gentleman winced with her every groan. However, since the labour had intensified, she had given up all pretence of serenity and now cried out whenever the pain overwhelmed her.

  Being a compassionate man, his heart went out to her. “The first child is always the most difficult,” Camryn said to no one in particular. Then addressing the midwife, he declared, “Please tell Mr. Darcy that I shall examine his wife again, Mrs. Posey. Perhaps the child has decided to be born now after all.”

  After a moment of cautious hesitation, the midwife left to do as asked. Camryn then glanced toward heaven, offering a silent entreaty.

  Lord, would you consider helping this babe along? I fear that I shall have two patients to attend if Mrs. Darcy’s labour lasts much longer.

  Tossing his serviette down on the dinner tray, he walked through the door that led into Mrs. Darcy’s bedroom. A maid was preparing the bed with layers of sheets and, upon seeing him, she nodded and went back to her work.

  On a dresser sat a pitcher of steaming water, a bar of soap, a stack of towels and a bowl. Pouring some of the water into the bowl, he diligently washed his hands and dried them on a towel. As he was doing this, he caught sight of himself in a mirror hanging on the wall behind the dresser. Taking a deep breath, he silently spoke to the image in the mirror.

  Do your best, trust God, and leave the outcome to Him.

  THE BILLIARDS ROOM

  Playing billiards alone, Richard was a
ddressing the cue ball on another round when an even louder cry of pain echoed throughout the house. Consequently, he hit the ball too hard, causing the shot to go awry and sending one ball off the table entirely. Murmuring to himself, he got down on his knees and crawled under the table to fetch the errant ball.

  Normally, Joseph Fitzwilliam would have found all of this very amusing and would have teased his nephew. Not today. At present he was too rattled by what was happening upstairs to find anything amusing. With the start of Elizabeth’s labour, he had recalled his own feelings of helplessness when Olivia gave birth to Arthur and later Jenny, and that had occupied his mind ever since.

  Richard ventured, “Do you suppose it would do any good to speak to Darcy again? If he would just let Aunt Olivia take over with Elizabeth for a time... just to get some rest, he—”

  “Fitzwilliam has spent the last twenty-four hours encouraging Elizabeth and bolstering her spirits when she wanted to despair. I dare say, you cannot take his mind off her,” Joseph cut in dryly. “You will have a better understanding of his frame of mind after your wife has birthed your first child.”

  “I think these last few hours have turned me against marriage completely or, at least, against the idea of having children,” Richard replied glumly.

  “And why is that?”

  No longer able to act unflappable, Richard replaced his cue stick on the rack on the wall. “I may look as though I am not worried, but I am. Many women die during childbirth.”

  “Life is never certain, Son. Olivia and I have learned that. But marriage and children are what brings mankind the most happiness.”

  “Darcy is dearer to me than my own brother. I have no doubt that he would grieve himself to death if something were to happen to Elizabeth.”

  “I know. I have never seen a man so fiercely in love with a woman, with the exception of my love for Olivia.” He could not hold back a smile with his last remark. “He must have gotten that trait from the Fitzwilliams.”

  At Richard’s shocked look, he explained, “I should have said he got it from the good side of the Fitzwilliams!”

  “It is hard to remember at times that there is a good side to our family; only you and Lady Anne hold that honour. My grandfather, my father, my brother and Lady Catherine have dominated the family for as long as I remember—one and all mean-spirited.”

  “I have to speak up for my brother, for I witnessed a definite change in his attitude after Fitzwilliam was hurt.”

  “Let us hope that the change is permanent,” Richard said sombrely. “He and I were never close, and I doubt that will ever change. Still, I have always wished that he would drop the sword when it comes to you and Aunt Olivia.”

  “Olivia and I wish for that, too. Life is too short to hold grudges, especially against family, if it is possible to forgive.”

  “I agree.”

  Another anguished cry from the floor above brought both their eyes to the ceiling. Joseph pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against.

  “I think I shall brave Fitzwilliam’s temper to see how my niece is faring, and I should check on Olivia. She has been on her knees in prayer for the last hour.” Tilting his head and smiling sheepishly, he added, “Perhaps this time she will not tell me to either join her in prayer or find some other useful employment. I fear I am no good at prayer in the midst of unfolding events. I do better before or afterward.”

  As Joseph headed to the door, Richard called, “If I can be of service, you know where to find me.” His uncle nodded, though he never slowed his pace.

  Knowing he was unlikely to be called upon, Richard went to Darcy’s liquor cabinet and poured two fingers of his best brandy. Downing it in one swallow, he set the glass down and walked to the windows where he stared into the distance for a time.

  Then he did something he rarely did in the light of day—with the exception of the times he had faced the enemy across a battlefield. He bowed his head and prayed.

  WHEN THE PHYSICIAN examined Elizabeth again, he found that she was much closer to giving birth. At that point, he tried to convince William to wait in the sitting room; however, having stayed by her side the entire time, he was not about to leave his wife. Seeing that he was beaten, Camryn turned his attention to delivering the child, while William sat down beside Elizabeth on the bed, encircling her with his arms for support, so that she lay back against his chest.

  “Mrs. Darcy, your baby has decided to make his appearance. In a moment, I shall ask for your help. Whenever I say push, please do so with all your strength. It may take a while, but the end is in sight.”

  “But I... I have no strength left,” Elizabeth said weakly.

  William kissed the top of her head. “You have more courage than any woman I have ever known, Elizabeth Darcy, and I have no doubt you will find the strength within you.”

  Elizabeth took a shaky breath. “Help me, Will. Hold me up a bit more.”

  William did as she asked, and suddenly Mr. Camryn said, “It is time! Push, Mrs. Darcy!”

  Elizabeth summoned all her strength to do as he asked, gripping William’s arms as she bore down with all her might. Nonetheless, just as she collapsed from the exertion, he ordered her to repeat it. Time and again for close to an hour, Camryn insisted that she push. Consequently, when he went silent, the entire room seemed to still. Then suddenly, the wail of a newborn filled the hush.

  As William helped his exhausted wife to lie back against some pillows, the physician exclaimed, “It is a boy!”

  Holding the baby up for the parents to see, he added, “He is eight pounds if he is an ounce.”

  Elizabeth broke into waves of sobs, causing William’s heart to stop.

  “Elizabeth!” He looked back to Camryn. “Is she in pain?”

  “No need to worry, Mr. Darcy. Your wife is doing very well,” Camryn assured. After tying off the cord, he turned to hand the wailing child to Mrs. Posey. “Please wash the babe while I finish here.”

  Olivia, who had slipped into the room unnoticed, interrupted their exchange. “May I?” Beaming ear to ear, she added, “I am his grandmother.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Fitzwilliam.”

  Both parents’ eyes looked on as Olivia took their crying child over to a table brought in for just this purpose. It was covered with stacks of towels and a large ceramic bowl that the midwife had already covered with a soft towel and filled with warm water. As Olivia began to gently wash the babe, however, the volume of his protests increased.

  Elizabeth grasped her husband’s arm. “Will, whenever you talked to the baby before he was born, he always quieted. I think hearing your voice may help to soothe him.”

  William placed a gentle kiss on Elizabeth’s forehead and hurried to stand where the babe might see him. While Olivia continued the task of making him presentable, his father brushed a few wet curls from the baby’s forehead. The realisation that this small person was his own child overwhelmed William and tears filled his eyes. Blinking to hold them back, he struggled to keep his voice from breaking when he spoke.

  “There, there, Alexander. All will be well soon, Son.”

  Hearing his father’s voice, Alexander ceased his frenzied wailing and seemed to focus on the large figure standing at the end of the table. Unable to hide the huge grin that spread over his face, William began to gently stroke one of the baby’s velvety cheeks with two fingers. As he did, his tears refused to obey and slid from his eyes.

  “You may find that you enjoy having a bath. And, that your grandmother is an excellent bather, if only you would calm down.”

  By now Alexander’s fists were waving wildly, and William reached out to hold one. He was delighted when the fist opened and grasped one of his fingers. Swallowing the large lump in his throat, he continued. “And, surely you wonder who possesses the melodious voice that you have become used to—the one who has sung to you all these months. That lady is your beautiful mother. Surely you will want to be on your best behaviour when you greet her.”
/>   Though Alexander did not stop crying entirely, by the time Olivia was nearly finished with his bath, his cries were more sporadic. While all of this was transpiring, Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. O’Reilly slipped quietly into the room with several maids. When Mrs. Reynolds went to the baby, the others lined one wall, waiting for Mr. Camryn to finish attending Elizabeth. As soon as he stood and nodded in their direction, O’Reilly motioned for them to begin.

  Meanwhile, Mrs. Reynolds had stepped behind Olivia and peered over her shoulder. Seeing the housekeeper, William reached for her hand and pulled her to stand next to him. Tears filled the old servant’s eyes as they looked at the baby.

  She whispered, “I had despaired of living long enough to see another Darcy born at Pemberley. This is a landmark I shall never forget.”

  William slid an arm around her shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. “Neither shall any of us.”

  Olivia, who was now busily drying Alexander with a towel, whispered, “He is just perfect.”

  Mr. Camryn walked over, still drying his hands on a towel. Laying it aside, he said, “Let me have a better look at this young man.” He proceeded to examine the baby, nodding in satisfaction as he assessed the baby with different measures. When finished, he stepped back. “I agree, Mrs. Fitzwilliam. This is a perfectly healthy baby.”

  While the physician returned to the dresser where Mrs. Posey was washing his instruments, Olivia wrapped the child in a small blanket and handed him to his father. Immediately, William kissed his son then turned to look at Elizabeth. He found her surrounded by a veritable army of maids, three of whom were leaving with arms full of sheets.

  The second Camryn had concluded his part in Elizabeth’s care, the sheets had been removed, and Mrs. O’Reilly had begun to wash her mistress. Afterward, she had helped her into a fresh gown. Thus, by the time Alexander was ready to meet his mother, the lady’s maid was tying a pink ribbon around her hair to keep it from her face.

 

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