Chapter 36 #2
Darcy grinned and replied, “You will find no sympathy here, Haverhill. You have one, and I have five. And by the time they are all settled, I shall likely have daughters to consider.”
Haverhill laughed as Elizabeth blushed, with a sweet glance up at her husband.
Anxiety for his wife’s health led Darcy to persuade Elizabeth to be among the first to depart the party. As she entered the carriage, Elizabeth remarked, “Were not Richard and Marianne meant to be there tonight? I was surprised not to see them.”
“I believe Marianne was indisposed.”
“I do hope it is nothing serious.”
“Richard says little of it, but from what he has said, I fear it weighs heavily on her that she is not yet with child. You might not realise this, but she was with child when they married and then lost it.”
“Oh no!”
“Indeed.” Darcy offered a wry smile. “I think she believed it would have happened many times over by now.”
“What are Richard’s feelings about it?”
“He was eager to become a father. We spoke of it one day when they were only just engaged, and he was quite pleased. I am sure it is disappointing to him, but Marianne is full young. There is time for her.”
Elizabeth nodded and did not say anything more. Sorrow had suddenly overwhelmed her, though she knew it was excessive. When she could abstain no more, she pulled her handkerchief to her face and tried her best to sob silently.
“Elizabeth!” Darcy immediately moved closer, pulling her into his embrace. “What is wrong?”
She allowed herself to weep more fervently. “It is just so sad! Oh, the poor, poor things! Dear, sweet, Marianne, so bereft! And, Richard, his disappointed hopes! Oh, it breaks my heart, truly, it does.”
“Well…I think they both know children sometimes take years to come. I do not doubt that they will be blessed shortly.”
“I know,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “Still to imagine life without Bennet—terrible indeed. I only want everyone to know such happiness.” Unable to stop herself, she allowed a few more tears to escape but soon regained her composure.
The dinner party held a week later was an enormous success. Georgiana was taken with Mr Haverhill, and Captain Bolton and Miss Haverhill got along famously. The only part that was not a success was Elizabeth, who found herself drooping into her tea after dinner.
“Georgiana,” she whispered to her sister at an opportune moment. “I need you to act in my stead for the remainder of the evening.”
“What?” Georgiana asked in shock.
“I cannot stay awake,” Elizabeth replied ruefully. “I want to, but I simply cannot. Make an excuse for me.” She rose and began to leave, but in terror, Georgiana grabbed her arm.
“Lizzy, no! I could not, I promise you!”
“You can and you must,” Elizabeth insisted gently. “Tell them I took ill.”
“I cannot, oh Lizzy, please, please do not make me.”
“Georgiana,” Elizabeth said sternly. “Did I not forgive you what you did? Have I not done what I could to help you move past your errors?”
“You have,” the girl admitted.
“Yes, I have,” Elizabeth replied. “And have scarce asked a thing in return. But now I do ask—nay insist—and you will oblige me.”
With that, she left her own party into Georgiana’s hands.
June 1815
Although no one could fault her—indeed, most believed they understood the likely nature of Mrs Darcy’s malady but were happy to await an announcement—Elizabeth’s abandonment of her dinner party made Darcy adamant that they leave London.
They departed in early June for Pemberley with Georgiana alongside them.
He was relieved to see that, almost immediately, Elizabeth seemed to recover her energy and her appetite.
She was even able to resume her walks, and soon after their arrival, he found her sitting on the bank by the pond.
Her book lay beside her as she looked over the water, a light breeze causing her curls to dance around her.
As he approached, she gave him a welcoming smile.
He sat next to her, and she leant towards him.
“I am grateful you are feeling better.”
“I am, thank you,” she said. “Though when you learn the source of my ailment, you might understand it was all for the best.”
“The source of your ailment?”
She took his hands then, pulling them to lay atop her stomach.
“Another child, my beloved husband. We are expecting a blessing.”
He felt joy suffuse him in a rush. “A child! Another child!” He burst out laughing. “When?”
She laughed. “November or December, I think.”
“Do you think it is a girl or a boy?”
“I have no idea,” she said with another laugh. “Our son wishes for a brother.”
“I wish for a girl, one just like you.”
“What exactly is a girl like me? Limited in stature with a bent towards being impertinent?”
Darcy teased, “That about sums it—but also good, kind, and loving, a lady who brings joy to all she meets.”
“You are a wonderful father, and I am so eager for our child to know you.”
“You are the finest mother anyone could ever hope for,” Darcy replied. “Indeed, I almost hope there is more than one child in there, for as good as you are, there should be many who benefit from it.”
November 1815
As Darcy stood at the window of his study at Pemberley, he thought that never had a day passed so agonisingly slowly as the one in which he was currently mired.
Then he chastised himself for such a cowardly thought, for it was Elizabeth who suffered and underwent travail.
All he needed to do was stand here and await the appearance of his child.
It was she who made the real effort. Still, waiting was difficult, particularly when nothing could gain his interest.
Elizabeth’s pains had begun early in the morning.
When he had awoken, the dawn was just beginning to emerge, and Elizabeth already was pacing the room, clearly in misery.
Darcy leapt from his bed, “Has Nurse Harriet been summoned? I shall fetch her. Where is Mrs Reynolds? What shall I do? Do you require my assistance? Please, darling, sit. Or do you prefer to stand? I shall stand with you, then.”
Incredibly, Elizabeth had laughed, though she ended it with a grimace. “We have only just begun, my dear, you must stay calm.”
He ran his hands through his hair, which was already a bit unkempt from sleep. “Impossible! I must do something.”
“Darling, your part in this is long ago done. ’Tis the business of ladies from here on. Go and get dressed, have your ride, and enjoy your breakfast. I assure you, I shall still be much the same when you are through.”
He immediately declined doing any such thing, but she insisted. He did not ride but dressed quickly and then went to his son for a brief breakfast. Georgiana was already there, having received the news through her maid. They both greeted Darcy happily, and their cheer was reassuring.
“I have just been telling Bennet that by the time he goes to bed tonight, it is quite likely he will have a new brother or sister. Is that not right, my darling?”
Bennet replied firmly, “Just a brother.”
“Alas, Mama cannot take requests in this matter. I was an older brother to a younger sister, and it was quite agreeable, I assure you.”
Georgiana smiled with a light blush. “Brother, worry nothing for Bennet today. I told him that his mama needs Nurse Harriet, but I shall play with him all day.”
“Good.” Darcy might have said more but he heard Mrs Reynolds bustle by in the hall, and his heart leapt. He rushed out of the room. “Any news? Am I needed?”
Mrs Reynolds smiled, and he could see clearly how exhilarated she was, a pink in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes. “Do not worry for even a moment, sir. Nurse and I shall take good care of your wife and baby. She is doing very well, but these things do take time.”
“Of course,” he responded dully, then returned to Georgiana and Bennet. They had finished eating, and Georgiana was selecting clothing for Bennet to take him outdoors.
Georgiana shooed him away. “You just attend to Elizabeth. I shall take care of your son.”
Darcy nodded slowly. It seemed everyone wished to remove from him all source of occupation so that he could focus on his wife, which was kind but, alas, left his mind nothing to do but fret. Slowly, he walked towards his study.
His alarm was heightened because it seemed she was earlier than had been foretold.
They had anticipated the end of November or the beginning of December, but it was scarcely November.
Her sister had wished to attend her but naturally had not yet arrived, and to that end, Mrs Reynolds had sent a stable hand to Hopton to inform them of the proceedings, urging the man to ride with haste.
Bingley was announced in his study just before the noon hour.
Darcy had spent the intervening time standing before his window, feeling a pain in his gut and a sweat on his brow.
Mrs Reynolds periodically came into the room to assure him all was proceeding according to plan, but he could not so easily dismiss the feeling of foreboding that was upon him.
“Darcy! Old man, you are looking quite unwell! Chin up, there, we have a long day ahead of us.” Bingley grinned even as he clapped Darcy on the back and handed him a bottle of brandy. “Brought that special for you. Let us drink to your son or daughter!”
“It is scarcely noon.”
“Just a bit to relax.” Bingley grinned. “You look terrible.”
Darcy took a small swallow. “Thank you. Jane is gone to her then?”
“I could hardly keep her back. I thought she might climb on top of the carriage and take over the driving herself if those men of mine had not hurried things along as they did.” Bingley laughed but then took on a reassuring tone.
“It is a frightening thing, I know, but there is little you or I can do for it. It is all up to Elizabeth and the child now.”
Darcy rubbed his hand across his forehead, “It is so early, that is all.” He sank into a chair next to his friend.