Chapter 3 #2
Six days later, in early morning, Elizabeth awoke to a sudden clenching pain in her abdomen.
It was uncomfortable but surprisingly mild compared to what she had been led to expect, and she was able to cuddle back into her husband’s arms and return to dozing for several hours as the pains slowly became more consistent.
When Darcy awoke just after dawn, Elizabeth was lying on her back and rubbing her abdomen as his son or daughter kicked vigorously in complaint.
When he placed his hand beside hers, he was shocked at the stiffness of her belly, and she winced at the spasm.
“How long has this been going on?” Darcy demanded, jumping to his feet to retrieve his banyan and ring for their servants.
“William,” she groaned, releasing a sigh as the pain tapered off. “They are still quite a distance apart. I doubt we shall see this little one before evening at the earliest. Mrs. Thornhill said that first babes can take an inordinate amount of time to appear.”
Darcy took a deep breath to settle his nerves and returned to her side. “What can I do? Would you like me to order breakfast? Or I may rub your feet?”
“You are a dear man,” she laughed. “Breakfast sounds delightful, I doubt I shall eat later as things progress. And then perhaps you would join me in a walk about the gallery? I do not believe that I should attempt the stairs in such a condition.”
Darcy breathed a sigh of relief that she had not insisted upon a ramble in the sunshine like she did most every morning and gave his man instructions before sending her maid to inform Mrs. Reynolds that Elizabeth’s confinement had begun.
“Do not tell Mrs. Bingley until she awakens,” Elizabeth instructed. “She need not lose sleep because I have and there is little for her to do currently.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The maid curtsied and left.
Two breakfast trays appeared with alacrity and Darcy assisted his wife to the table in their sitting room before joining her.
He watched her carefully as she ate and she teased him mercilessly for it, ensuring him that she was not some fragile miss.
By the end of the meal, the pains were coming about a quarter of an hour apart and Elizabeth gripped his arm rather tightly as they wandered down the hall toward the gallery.
They were on their second circuit of the room when a much sharper pain stopped Elizabeth in her tracks and there was a sudden gush of fluid.
“Oh, dear…”
Darcy swung Elizabeth into his arms and rushed back through the halls calling for assistance as he went.
Never before had he so cursed the size and scale of Pemberley as it took him almost ten minutes to return Elizabeth to their suite, one room of which had been transformed into a birthing suite.
The servants were rushing about lighting a fire to boil water and preparing the linens for the birth.
Mrs. Reynolds appeared with Mrs. Thornhill hot on her heels and the midwife began barking orders as she took control of the room.
She made the mistake of attempting to send off the master of Pemberley only once, his fearsome scowl making her think better of making a second attempt.
Though she did warn him that should he get in the way she would have the footmen in the hall drag him off, master or no.
“Lizzy!” Jane cried as she flew into the room with her hair still in its sleep braid. “Why did you not tell me you were laboring?”
“It is progressing much quicker than I was expecting,” Elizabeth choked through the pain.
Jane hurried to her side and took a bowl of water and a cloth from the maid who was cooling Elizabeth’s brow. “I am here now, do not worry.”
“You are nearly ready to push, Mrs. Darcy!” Mrs. Thornhill announced in suprise.
Two contractions later and the tiny, perfect, heir of Pemberley had arrived, shocking them all with the swiftness of his birth. Elizabeth was cuddling the infant to her breast while the midwife pushed about her abdomen and muttered to herself.
“What is the matter?” Darcy demanded worriedly, looking up from his perusal of his son’s long, slender fingers.
“The babe is much smaller than I was expecting,” she replied. “I do believe that there is a second mite ready to meet the world.”
“Twins?” Jane exclaimed in shock.
Soon enough the pains began once more, and another son came squalling into the air and was passed off to his mother while the afterbirth was delivered and Elizabeth put to rights.
Darcy could not remove his eyes from his luminous wife and their two small babes that she had latched to her breasts.
As each finished, he was taken for a warm bath by the servants before being dressed and returned to his parents.
Darcy smiled to see the ribbons tied to their ankles, red for the heir and blue for the spare.
“What shall we name these handsome young men?” Elizabeth asked tiredly, cuddling the second babe to her neck so that she could breathe in his sweet baby scent.
“Bennet, as is tradition,” Darcy replied as his heir clutched his finger in a tight little fist.
“Bennet Alexander, for his papa,” Elizabeth declared. “And for his brother?”
“Thomas George?” Darcy offered.
“I like that. A fine strong name from both of his grandpapas. Tommy and Ben, welcome to the world.”
“They are beautiful, Lizzy.” Jane cooed, stroking the black fuzz which topped each babe’s head. “I shall go inform Charles if you do not mind? I am certain that he would love to meet his first nephews.”
Darcy agreed without looking up and settled on the bed beside his wife. “You have blessed my life beyond measure, my wonderful wife. You have given me everything.”
They were soon joined by the Bingleys, minus Miss Bingley who had not appeared after sending a maid with a demand that Jane attend her as she was bored, which had been ignored.
Bingley was pleased for his friend and proud to stand as Godfather for Tommy, with Jane as Godmother.
The Darcys planned to ask Colonel Fitzwilliam, Darcy’s favorite cousin, and Georgiana to stand as godparents for Bennet.
When Elizabeth’s eyes grew heavy, Darcy took the babe from her arms and asked Jane to inform Mrs. Reynolds when she and Bingley wished to have tea as he was loath to leave his little family.
∞∞∞
Jane and Bingley spent a quiet morning together as Jane finished sewing a second layette for the surprise twin while Bingley paced and attempted to read a book, and paced some more, nearly driving Jane to distraction.
“Have you received any correspondence from Netherfield? Surely the steward has questions which need answering.”
“I shall do that later,” he declared with a moue of distaste.
“Would you like a game of billiards, my love?” she asked, interrupting his mutterings.
“I do not have anyone to play against,” he harrumphed. “It is boring to stand about hitting balls without the thrill of the win or a wager.”
“Have you chosen a puppy yet?” she asked, wracking her brain for ideas.
“Darcy won’t tell me which he recommends,” he pouted. “How am I to know what is best if he will not say?”
“Charles? What is wrong? You seem very out of sorts.”
“I am not out of sorts!” he insisted, though his whiny tone belied his words. “Darcy invited us to Pemberley, and he has not had much time to enjoy, what with… everything. And now he will have even less for there was not one but two infants!”
Jane was shocked that her husband could be so selfish and juvenile.
Did he not realize that it was she who had been invited to attend to her sister and not he for his entertainment?
He was likely feeling some disappointment that he was yet to be a father, she decided.
Surely that was it. Oh, if only there could be some sign that she was with child! He would be so pleased.
“Why do you not send for the fishing tackle and go down to the stream,” she urged him in a soothing voice. “You know how much you enjoy the activity.”
“But not alone! Why must I entertain myself?”
“I could ask for a blanket and join you,” she offered.
Bingley huffed but agreed and Jane set aside her embroidery, and her hurt, and rang for a servant.
The items appeared as if by magic and with a footman carrying the load, Jane accepted her parasol and her husband’s arm and they promenaded along the path to the west of the house where the trout stream lay.
Bingley took his time inspecting the water as he explained what he was looking for and finally settled on a deep pool at a bend in the stream.
The footman laid out the blanket under the shade of the arching beach trees and stood back to wait unobtrusively.
Jane immediately instructed him to find a comfortable perch for himself which he gratefully did and settled on a thick root where he could lean against the trunk of the tree.
Bingley chattered away as he baited his hook and cast it into the dark water at the opposite bank.
Jane watched him with confusion. She had accompanied her father fishing several times as a child and he had insisted that she be silent as the noise of conversation would scare the fish away from biting.
Her husband seemed unaware of that fact as he cast again and again without ceasing his monologue.
“Dam— er, pardon Jane. The fish took the bait again. Wiley buggers.” He rebaited his hook and cast again.
Jane shook her head affectionately.
“Oh! OH! I think I have caught one!” Bingley exclaimed as he began reeling in his catch. “It is a big one! Very heavy! I shall fill the table with fish today!”