Leave Her Wild

Chapter Eighteen

“Mr. Darcy! Mr. Darcy!”

Darcy looked up quickly at the sound of his name. He had been in the fields since before dawn, assisting with the plowing and harrowing and the adding of sulfur to the soil, for this area would be left fallow next growing season to permit it time to recover from three years of use. He had long used a four-crop rotation on Pemberley, something he had learned from his Fitzwilliam relatives in Scotland. This morning, at Elizabeth’s insistence, he had left Pemberley in her very capable hands for the day, for she was not due to deliver their first child for another month, and she termed him “too protective” when he was home and “under foot.”

They had married two weeks after that call upon Darcy’s House by his Uncle Matlock. Things moved quite speedily once his uncle placed the power of the earldom behind the matters. Bingley and Miss Bennet had married shortly after Lady Day, once Bingley was settled in at Netherfield Park and taxes were addressed, and Bingley had come to know all his neighbors.

Mr. Ericks called on Miss Mary for the Bingley wedding and had made his own proposal, and Lambton’s clergyman and Miss Mary Bennet were married shortly after Christmastide.

Though the magistrate thought a public hanging was worthy justice for Mr. Wickham’s various offenses, many of which came to light during the trial, Lord Matlock had insisted on transportation instead, for a public hanging would have brought more notoriety to Darcy’s marriage to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Naturally, gossip had been leaked out about how Elizabeth had tended him during his recovery. All the “ton” was not surprised Miss Jane Bennet had abandoned him in favor of her sister.

The rumors in Hertfordshire were harder to quash than those in London, but his and Elizabeth’s brief appearance at the Bingley’s wedding had silenced many, for, obviously, Elizabeth was not yet increasing. “Some people live for their gossip,” his wife had said when he grumbled about the rumors.

Fueling much of the “talk” was the fact Mrs. Bennet had chosen to accompany Lydia to Scotland before she could witness Jane’s marriage to Mr. Bingley. Mrs. Wickham established residence in Scotland and was to remain there for six months and then seek a divorce from Mr. Wickham, all of which seemed an ideal solution, for, otherwise, the girl would forever be married to a man who had been transported for his numerous crimes.

“I cannot permit Lydia to travel and live alone in the wilds of Scotland,” Mrs. Bennet had declared, and so Mr. Bennet had reluctantly relented to his wife’s request.

In typical Bennet irony, the gentleman told Darcy, “I know my choice is not likely the most intelligent one I have made, but I will have Longbourn to myself—or I should say, Kitty and I will be treated to peace and quiet,” Mr. Bennet had argued.

Elizabeth had explained to Darcy when he inquired of her father’s true meaning, “Kitty wishes to remain at Longbourn. Captain Baggett, the captain who lost his hand in Spain and is part of the militia, has begun to call on her, and it is rumored Baggett is being considered for a position with the Home Office. If he earns the position, they could live in London, and Kitty could open her own modiste. Lady Matlock has promised to promote my sister’s creations to all of her ladyship’s friends.”

“Soon your father will be all alone at the estate,” Darcy had warned.

“Maybe I should leave Poochie with Papa,” his wife had suggested, but, in the end, Mr. Bennet had sent the dog with them to Derbyshire.

“There are more birds for her to chase in Derbyshire,” Bennet had told his favorite daughter, “and I am not accustomed to rising so early as you to take my walks nor do my old legs any longer tolerate the path up Oakham Mount.”

Little had Darcy known the truth of his words about all of them abandoning Mr. Bennet. After the six months and official divorce was issued to Lydia Wickham, they all had expected Mrs. Bennet, and, likely, Lydia also, to return to Hertfordshire, but neither did and there was no word from mother or daughter to explain why they had tarried up north. Finally, at Elizabeth’s insistence and worry over her mother’s safety in Edinburgh, Darcy had sent two men to Scotland to learn something of both women’s fate. The men had returned with news that Mrs. Bennet had sought her own divorce, and a month after Lydia Wickham was granted a reprieve from her marriage, so was Mrs. Frances Bennet.

Elizabeth and Mary had been dumbfounded and wanted to travel to Scotland to verify the information, but both Darcy and Samuel Ericks had refused their leaving.

“The journey would be too difficult for you, Mary, as well as for Mrs. Darcy,” Ericks had reasoned with his new wife. “You are carrying our first child, and Elizabeth likewise for Mr. Darcy, who is further along than are you. If Mrs. Bennet wanted you to know of her actions, she would have written to you. Your mother is well aware of her choices and their effect upon the Bennet family. She knows your directions, for she has asked for money from you twice already since we were married. I am not happy to support her and Lydia when we are expecting a child of our own.”

“But Papa will be heart-broken,” Mary had argued as she and Elizabeth had sat together, holding hands and fisting their handkerchiefs in sorrow and worry.

“Will he?” Darcy had suggested. “I know you both love your mother, but Mrs. Bennet has not acted with any more sense than has Mrs. Wickham. With a different husband, she has the opportunity for a small cottage when the man passes. Perhaps more. Forbye, if she stays in Scotland, she can remain near Mrs. Wickham, who you have both said was always her favorite and the one most like her in personality.”

“They are truly of a similar temperament,” Mary admitted reluctantly.

“But Papa . . .” Elizabeth had protested. “With all of us gone, he and mama were to spend their final years together.”

“Your father is not an old man,” Mr. Ericks suggested. “He could marry another and produce an heir for Longbourn.”

“A young child in his fifties!” Elizabeth had protested in alarm. “He would have grandchildren older than his own child!”

Yet, the more Ericks and Darcy spoke of the possibility, the more Elizabeth and Mary came to see the advantage to all involved.

“What is it, Mr. Pollis?” Darcy asked as the man hustled across the field between the furrowed rows of fresh turned earth.

“It be the mistress, sir. Mrs. Reynolds say it be time fer me to fetch ye.”

“Mrs. Reynolds?” Darcy asked. Elizabeth was not due to take to her bed for another month. His wife had known a difficult time in carrying their first child, mainly because she was accustomed to long walks about the estate, but her bulk had her very much restricted to the house. Darcy turned to toss his gloves to Mr. Macy. “You will see the sulfur is completed.”

“Aye, sir!” Macy called back. “We all offer prayers for the mistress, sir.”

Darcy barely heard the man’s words, for he was running to reach his horse, which was eating the grass along the edge of the field. “Come, Thor,” he told the grey stallion. “Your mistress requires us at the estate!” The springer spaniel, which had been watching Darcy’s progress in the field and had been made to wait so he was not traipsing through the sulfur powder and getting it on his fur, followed at a distance but stayed apace of Darcy’s progress.

“Did you send a message to Mrs. Ericks?” Elizabeth asked.

“Jasper took a horse into the village, Mistress, to inform your sister. Your sister sent word that she will come as quickly as Mr. Ericks returns from his calls on the parish.” Mrs. Reynolds assisted in balancing Elizabeth’s wobbly steps.

“Mr. Darcy shall be angry that you permitted him to go to the fields this morning,” Hannah warned. Elizabeth had liked the girl so well she had hired her as her lady’s maid and brought her to Pemberley. Hannah’s family, who owned a large inn on the outskirts of Lambton, had been quite thrilled to have their daughter and sister return to Derbyshire and be part of Pemberley’s household.

“He cannot stay long angry with me,” Elizabeth declared as she again made her way down the long hall of the family wing. “I carry his child.”

Elizabeth had been uncomfortable most of the night, but she had said nothing to her husband, for the midwife had told her that she still had nearly another month to go before delivering the child. Moreover, she worried excessively that she would disappoint her sweet William by presenting him with a daughter. Though he said repeatedly all he wished for was a healthy baby, Elizabeth knew he worried excessively over the fate of Pemberley.

Earlier, when she made the turn at the end of the passageway, a sharp pain deep in her most private parts had driven her to her knees. For several long minutes, she had remained in just such a position, holding her engorged middle with one arm and stroking her midsection with the other, while quietly humming a lullaby as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

Hannah had found her there and had alerted Mrs. Reynolds, and the housekeeper had sent someone for Mr. Darcy.

A second knee buckling pain presented itself as she had made her way to her quarters, this one had her legs and chemise soaked in a warm liquid.

“We must change out your clothes, Mistress,” Hannah had ordered. “Something comfortable like what the midwife ordered we have made for you. I have it all prepared.”

“We should send someone to alert Mrs. Griffin,” Elizabeth said. “She shall not be expecting me until the first part of next month.”

“I shall see to it, ma’am,” Hannah coaxed as she led Elizabeth along the passage. “First, we see you are more comfortable.”

“This is normal,” Elizabeth declared as she approached her quarters. She meant to convince herself and everyone around her that nothing would happen to her child. Such would destroy her husband, just as Lady Anne had destroyed George Darcy. “We just had the dates wrong in the beginning. Such is why I have gotten so large.”

“It be what Mrs. Griffin described, Mistress,” Hannah assured. “The date could easily have been in error. No two women are the same. You may have been increasing long before you took to being sick in the morning. Me mother never became ill with my brother Lucas, but she was supposedly sick from the beginning with me. You have gained girth substantially in the last six weeks.”

Darcy entered the house through the kitchen, sending everyone inside into a tizzy, but he ignored the chaos his sudden appearance had caused and took the servant steps two at a time to reach the family wing. The Springer was quick on his heels.

“Elizabeth!” he bellowed, but was brought up short when he viewed her hobbling along in a soaked gown. His heart took a stutter step. “Dear God!”

His wife held up her hand to silence his protest. “This is normal, William. I mean to change into a dry gown. Meanwhile, you will wash off the field dirt and sweat and then assist me in walking the hall again.”

“Demme you woman, how can you be so calm?” Darcy demanded with a frown. It was then he noted the slight tremble of her lips. “It will all be well,” he said with a purposeful smile. Elizabeth required him to be strong and so he would be. “Just promise me that you will wait until I return for you before you set your steps again in motion.”

“Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”

The use of his Christian name meant she was as frightened as was he: Therefore, Darcy meant to protect her and to hell with the rest of the world. He waited until she made her way into their adjoined quarters before he entered his. Stripping off his field coat and shirt, he took up a cloth, a bar of soap, and dipped them in a bowl of water. Lathering the cloth, he washed his body as best he could, recalling how the midwife said some odors and scents irritated the senses of a woman carrying a child within her. He could not recall whether that meant during labor or other times, but the process was helpful in calming his anxiety. “Which was likely Elizabeth’s purpose,” he told the dog as he washed his face and arms.

Despite his worry, Darcy sighed heavily. “Demme woman! She knows how always to be in control!” He chuckled easily. “Which is why you married her, Darcy,” he told his image in the small mirror on the dresser. The idea brought another smile to his lips.

Dropping a shirt over his head and ordering the dog to wait, Darcy crossed to his wife’s quarters. Odd as it would be to speak his observations aloud, Elizabeth appeared to be carrying the baby lower than she had when he had tucked her next to his side last evening. “Shall we walk together, Mrs. Darcy?” he asked with a smile and a bit of caution.

“Such a handsome gentleman,” she said in that tone which always had him desiring her in his arms.

“Your gentleman, my love.” He kissed her forehead. “I am so very proud of you. You have answered all my prayers, even the ones I did not know my soul had sent out in the world.”

Together, they walked to the end of the hall and made the turn to do so again, when Elizabeth suddenly clutched at his arm. Her lovely countenance scrunched up in pain.

“What the devil?” he demanded.

“Another of the birth pains, sir,” Hannah explained. “Though Mrs. Darcy should not swallow her screams,” the maid said with a tut of her tongue in disapproval. “Pardon my forwardness, sir. Mrs. Darcy means to protect you.”

“Elizabeth?” he questioned, but she did not respond, just buried her nails into his arm.

“We must know the time on the clock,” Hannah demanded.

A voice at the other end of the hall said, “Two minutes after ten.”

The dog came running to greet his former master, while Darcy and Elizabeth looked up to find Mr. Bennet at the top of the stairs and looking at them in dismay. Neither Darcy nor Elizabeth had realized anything of his arrival at Pemberley, though they both had expected the gentleman soon for the birth of his first grandchild.

“Papa!” Elizabeth reached a hand for her father, and, after giving the dog a command to return to the room, Mr. Bennet moved quickly to replace the maid.

Mr. Bennet asked Hannah, “How far apart are the pains?”

“A little less than seven minutes, sir,” the maid reported with a smile. “Since the last one.”

“You were experiencing pains while I was washing off the field dirt?” Darcy accused.

“It was ten minutes for more than two hours,” his wife explained.

“Quite a drop from the previous time,” Mr. Bennet observed. “You might wish to send a servant for the midwife. Inform the woman of the decrease in time between the contractions,” he told Darcy.

“Hannah!”

“Yes, sir. I shall return quickly,” the maid darted away.

“Let us walk, Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet ordered as he kissed his daughter’s forehead. Though his wife sagged heavily against Darcy, she clung tightly to her father’s hand.

“You came early,” Elizabeth said in breathy puffs of air.

“I had news I wished to share with you and Mary,” Mr. Bennet admitted, “and it was not something to place in a letter. I have already spoken to Jane, but you know how your sister is. She never has an honest opinion, at least, not one she is willing to share with others.”

Darcy would agree: He had escaped a life of boredom. Even so, he smartly did not remark.

“Jane . . . never wishes . . . to offend another,” Elizabeth said as she stepped heavily along the carpeted hallway.

Mr. Bennet replied in the man’s typical wry manner, “I know great pleasure in thinking Jane and Mr. Bingley will forever be happily settled. They will do very well together. Their tempers are by no means unalike. They are each so compliant that nothing will ever be resolved, so easy every servant will cheat them, and so generous they will always exceed their income.”

Darcy wished to laugh, but he swallowed his mirth. Instead, he said, “You are always welcomed at Pemberley, sir, but you did not explain your early arrival.”

“I was hoping you and the Erickses might return to Hertfordshire after Michaelmas this year, for I have accepted the advice all of you have so generously offered upon multiple occasions. Why should I spend my days alone simply because your mother fears her own future? I have called upon the Widow Jackson several times. Though she does not approve of how I have come to the state of again being an eligible bachelor, she has accepted the offer of my hand in marriage. She is but four and thirty and has two sons, one age ten and the other nearly twelve.

“She will be presented with the position of mistress of Longbourn and her children from Marcus Jackson will receive a home, rather than the let rooms in the village, while I will be gifted the opportunity to cut off Mr. Collins’s rights to Longbourn by producing a son with the lady. If I can bring her to child, she might live out her days at Longbourn. I have offered to send Jackson’s boys to Harrow and Cambridge, an opportunity they would never know in the lady’s current circumstances.”

They had been taking slow steps during this conversation and again turned for another pass. Darcy was thankful for Mr. Bennet’s obviously purposeful distraction of Elizabeth’s pain.

“What changed your mind, Papa?” Elizabeth asked.

“You have all reasoned quite eloquently on how my life is not over,” her father declared. He paused to look down on Elizabeth. “A fortnight ago, I received a letter from Mrs. Bennet’s solicitor in Scotland. Frances and Lydia have decided to travel to America. They believe Lydia is with child.”

“Oh, Papa, how terrible for you,” Elizabeth said as she reached to embrace her father. “I know this would never have been your choice.”

“I believe you shall like Melonia Jackson,” her father said rather than to comment on his true thoughts of Mrs. Bennet’s actions. “She is quite practical and very learned. She was most excited by the extent of my library, and her boys wish to know more of the livestock on the estate.”

“You will finally be able to share all your ideas to improve Longbourn with your sons,” Darcy assured.

Another pain caught Elizabeth by surprise, and she clutched both men’s hands tightly. “Time, Papa?”

Mr. Bennet checked his watch again. “Just a few ticks of the hands longer than six minutes.”

“We must keep walking to at least five-minute intervals,” Elizabeth explained in weak tones, and they again began their labored stroll of the length of Pemberley’s passageway and back.

Once they reached the remarkable five-minute intervals, Darcy took the process into his hands. Elizabeth was sagging against him in near exhaustion and her energy drained with each minute she was on her feet. Therefore, he ignored her protests and carried her to her quarters.

During those first few hours, Darcy stayed at her side, praising her strength and willfulness and absolute kindness until the midwife arrived and ordered him from the room. “I will not be far. You may depend on me,” he repeated once more as he stood to leave. However, as he left the room, he told the midwife, “If a choice must be made between the two, save my wife.”

Darcy had initially thought to wait outside the door of Elizabeth’s quarters. Instead, he chose to wait in his quarters—in the small dressing room and upon the cot that Sheffield occasionally employed if Darcy was late returning to the estate. He sat on the thin mattress on the cot, alone, except for the dog, which had originally followed Mr. Bennet downstairs, but had quickly returned when it heard Elizabeth’s screams. Now, the dog whimpered in concern and watched the door between Darcy and his beloved wife.

Mr. Bennet reported that he would take the gig into Lambton to fetch Ericks and Mary. They were all supposedly waiting below. Darcy knew he should have been more social, but he could not be further than a few feet from Elizabeth as long as she screamed out in such pain. Therefore, he remained upon the cot and continued to pray, while, with a worried expression, the dog continued to watch the door.

Darcy studied the seconds ticking away on his pocket watch until, at last, Elizabeth’s cries were so close together, they were nearly on top of one another.

“There you are,” Ericks said from a place within Darcy’s quarters. “I thought perhaps you might require a prayer or two.”

“It is Elizabeth who suffers,” Darcy argued. “Sitting in a cramped dressing room is nothing in comparison to which to complain. I wish the pain belonged to me.”

Ericks barked a laugh. “If such was so, no man alive would have more than one child. A woman looks upon the sweet countenances of her children and forgets all the suffering. Meanwhile, a man would be plotting some sort of revenge. My mother always said women know the truest pain when the child grows and leaves home to go out into the world.”

“Elizabeth is one of a kind,” Darcy declared.

“She is the perfect woman for you, sir. My wife’s sister dearly loves you. She will never leave you alone in the world. Elizabeth made a promise to love and honor you, and such was a promise from the heart.”

Darcy knew he wept. “She assuredly changed the course of my life.” He had bent his head again to continue his prayers when he realized there were no more screams from his wife. “What?” He immediately was on his feet and pounding on the door that separated them. “Elizabeth!” he cried out against the wood. “Elizabeth!”

“One moment, sir,” Hannah called.

“I am well, William,” Elizabeth squeaked in obvious exhaustion.

Darcy clung to the frame of the door. The room felt as if it was spinning. He caught the door’s latch. He began to count off the seconds in his head and was finally rewarded with the heavenly sound of protest coming from his child.

At length, the door opened, and Hannah placed a squalling babe wrapped tightly in swaddling clothes in Darcy’s waiting arms. “You have a daughter, Mr. Darcy.”

“A daughter,” Elizabeth said in exhaustion. “I am sorry, William, No heir.”

“I am happy, nevertheless,” he told her. “You are the most remarkable woman of my acquaintance.”

“Do we have a name?” Samuel called over Darcy’s shoulder.

“Anne Mary Elizabeth Darcy,” Darcy declared. “As you and Mary will be her godparents, it is only reasonable.”

“Your sister will be thrilled,” Ericks declared loud enough for Elizabeth to hear him, while remaining discreetly behind Darcy. “She wishes our first daughter to be an ‘Elizabeth.’”

Before more could be said, and he could carry his wife to her bed for a much needed rest, Elizabeth screamed again and doubled over, holding her abdomen.

“What is happening?” he demanded, but the midwife ordered him from the room another time. Samuel caught Darcy’s shoulders to tug him backwards, just as Mrs. Reynolds, who he had forgotten was in the room with Elizabeth, closed the door and locked it a second time.

Darcy felt as if the earth had opened and swallowed him whole. This was his father’s nightmare all over again. He rested his head against the door and once more began to pray. “Do not take her from me, God,” he begged, just as had his father begged for Lady Anne’s life.

“Give me the child,” Samuel instructed as he worked Darcy’s fingers loose from his daughter. “Mary can clean the child properly and return her to you. Mr. Bennet will want to view the girl also. She favors Elizabeth, do you not think?”

Darcy looked down upon the child. “Our Anne surely has the look of Elizabeth,” he said as his finger traced the child’s cheek. “Her eyes are blue, though.”

“All children’s eyes are blue when they are born,” Samuel told him. “They change to their permanent color as they grow a bit older. Many believe such is true because Jesus’s eyes were blue, but none of us will know with confidence until we are also in Heaven.” Samuel reached for the child a second time. “God did not bring Elizabeth into your life simply to snatch her away from you again. Keep the faith, Darcy, and trust what God means for your future.”

Darcy nodded his head in agreement, but he had only half listened to Ericks’s advice, for he had placed his hand on the door, desperately needing to know Elizabeth’s essence in some form. As Ericks walked away to do his duty to the child and the rest of the family, Darcy whispered against the blankness of the door. “I love you. Do not leave me.”

He did not know how long he remained as such, but, at length, Elizabeth released a scream that would have driven banshees from their graves. He rattled at the locked door, nearly ripping it from its frame, with his need to reach her, while the dog barked again and again. “Push!” someone ordered, and he banged against the doorframe in disbelief. How could anyone expect his wife to do anything but know exhaustion. On the other side, Elizabeth could be heard expelling a guttural sound that was definitely unworldly, for no one could imagine it.

Then his wife was silent again, and Darcy attempted not to break in the door to reach her. His mind ticked off the seconds while he wondered if she had taken her last breath without him by her side. If so, he would never forgive himself, just as his father had never forgiven his own lust for Lady Anne. His forehead rested against the door’s panel, while his ears strained for the slightest sound within. Then he heard it. A chirp. And then what sounded of a thump and then a wail, but not one sound coming from Elizabeth.

He was again considering breaking in the door when Elizabeth called, “A son, William!” Immediately, the door opened, but he had dropped to his knees in supplication. The dog sat silently beside him as if awaiting permission to enter her mistress’s quarters.

“William?” his wife begged.

He was not confident his legs would hold him upright, but he pulled himself upward to stand. He was breathing hard as if he had run a mile, but there was joy everywhere when he looked upon Elizabeth, though her hair was soaked with sweat and she was still quite red in the face.

“Did you hear me?” Elizabeth asked. “Pemberley is saved!”

“An heir?” he mouthed in disbelief, as her initial words finally had taken root.

“Young Master Darcy,” Hannah declared, as they all watched Mrs. Reynolds quickly, but reverently, remove all the traces of blood and the mucus from his son’s body, “was hiding behind his sister. He is a wee bit of a thing, in comparison with his sister, but he will grow fast.”

Darcy stepped into the room to kneel before Elizabeth, ordering the dog to stay in place. “You are the most magnificent creature on this earth.”

She leaned forward to brush his forehead with a kiss. “Are you not glad you returned to me for a second chance at love?”

“Desperately so. Might I lift you to the bed? You require your rest,” he stated as he caught up her hand to kiss it repeatedly.

The midwife vetoed his offer. “Mrs. Darcy must still pass the birthing sack. Take the boy below and present him to your family. Send someone for the wet nurse. You shall require two.”

“I will see to it.”

“A name?” the midwife asked.

“Bennet,” Darcy and Elizabeth chorused. “For my father,” Elizabeth finished.

“Bennet George Edward Darcy,” Darcy supplied.

Darcy accepted his son from Mrs. Reynolds, who had tears in her eyes and a gigantic smile on her lips, while such love washed over Darcy that he thought his heart would surely burst. “Come, my boy, let us have a walk through Pemberley, which one day will be your legacy, though I imagine your sister Anne will have something to say about being the first born. Everyone in this household and for miles about will celebrate this day. Come, Pooch,” he ordered the dog, “you have another Darcy to protect.” To his son, he said, “You may meet your Uncle Samuel and your Aunt Mary, as well as your grandfather, whose name you will share. Later, I will show you your other grandparents in portraits. I believe you have a bit of George Darcy in the cut of your nose.”

Elizabeth called, “Do not place too many responsibilities on my son’s shoulders, sir. I expect Anne shall wish to claim her share of this benefaction, and I shall demand she be presented with her due!”

“Absolutely, my love!” Darcy called back. “The Darcy children will be a force of nature, just as are their parents!”

~ Finis ~