16. Gracechurch Street—Friday, 22 December 1809
Elizabeth felt utterly blissful.
The day before, She had not been allowed in the bedchamber during the birth itself, but she had been by her aunt’s side during the beginning stages of labour, sponging her brow, keeping her distracted in between pains, and supporting her however she was needed.
Her aunt had been grateful, but Elizabeth liked to feel useful and felt better for having seen a portion of the birth process.
During the final portion of labor, Elizabeth was firmly told to leave by the midwife.
She was still useful, however, holding her uncle’s hands and reminding him to breathe as they heard low grunts and harsh exhalations from the bedchamber.
When the babe gave its first cry, her uncle hurried to his wife and new baby, and Elizabeth swiftly went upstairs to tell the happy news to Nurse, the other servants, and the children.
She was ecstatic to be called into the bedchamber later—becoming the first of the family to meet its newest member.
When the joyful day was finally waning, Elizabeth learnt that William had attempted to visit and been sent home.
She had thought of him frequently throughout the day, having begun to believe in the destiny of which he often spoke.
Someday, she hoped, she might bear his child.
Still, it had not occurred to her once whether he had tried to visit.
Upon reflection, she realised that she had not had to wonder—it was a foregone conclusion.
Just as the fact that he would call the next day was a certainty.
She had not expected him to propose the day after the birth. Certainly not less than a minute into his call.
But ecstasy added to ecstasy—she had been very happy when she first saw him, and she became happier when he proposed, she accepted, and they kissed.
Now he was sitting in front of her as if his knees had given out under the weight of all that joy.
She sat next to him and said, “Every time my aunt feeds little Tommy, I think of the cup of warm milk we shared at Saint James’s Park.”
William was such a dear…he was blushing again. But this time, she blushed as well, for certainly it was not the height of decorum to refer to a woman feeding a newborn. But she decided that she needed to just let that one go.
He asked, “Should I ride to Meryton tomorrow to ask for your father’s permission?”
“No. I would miss you too dreadfully,” she said.
“When I am in London, my uncle has full parental rights, and he can sign the marriage documents. Which you probably do not yet have—and of course my uncle has taken the day off from working at his warehouses, but it is still too soon to pull him away from his new son. Perhaps tomorrow you can ask to speak to him alone, and whenever you have the marriage articles, you can make an appointment to see him.”
“Actually, I have had the marriage articles in my possession for several days now. I will be happy to meet with your uncle tomorrow, if he has the time.”
“How are you and your sister planning to celebrate Christmas Eve and Christmas Day?”
“Since the death of my father we have celebrated with my aunt and uncle, Lord and Lady Matlock. Do you suppose that you would be able to join us for a meal or church service?”
“Oh! Perhaps. The reason I asked was that I wished to ask if you, Georgiana, and Mrs Annesley would be able to join us for a meal.”
“I will consult with my aunt and uncle if you will consult with yours. In the meantime, I will ask my sister to come with me tomorrow, if that is agreeable to you.”
“It is very agreeable, thank you!”
William scooped up her hand in his and said, “Do you suppose we will always be this happy, this peaceful and amenable to one another?”
She laughed and shook her head decidedly. “I do not. I assume we will disagree with vigour and passion and then apologise the same way—and with some frequency.”
“That actually sounds perfect,” William said. “Especially if we can be happy even when arguing.”
“I love a good debate, and although some arguments are distressing, others can be quite delightful.” She grinned at her intended, stopped for a moment to acknowledge with pleasure that she had an intended, and then adopted a more serious expression.
“I know that you know this, but I just wish to be open about the fact that there is sadness in every life. I hope that, when something difficult occurs in our lives, we will pull together to get through it. To solve problems, if that is possible, or to face losses, if that is all we can do.”
“I believe I can promise you that I will always attempt to do my best to help and support you through life’s vicissitudes. I love you dearly, and ardently, and forever.”
Elizabeth clasped both hands in front of her, holding her hands to her breast, and she said, “There now, I have captured all of your adverbs in my hands, and now I release them to let you know that I love you in all those ways, as well.”
William grumbled playfully, “I would have thought that you might have come up with at least one adverb on your own.”
“Challenge accepted. Actually, I will use three, as you did. Hmm….” Elizabeth pretended to think hard and then said, “I love you profoundly, absurdly, and unwaveringly.”
“A moment of your time, madam,” Darcy objected. “I believe you hid an insult in there. Are you saying that it is absurd for you to love me? Or perhaps, that it is absurd for anyone to love me?”
“Of course not. I give your sister and your aunt leave to love you, and I would never laugh at them for doing so. What I actually meant is that it is quite absurd how dearly I love you.”
“Fine, fine. You may keep all three of your adverbs.” William’s smile could not be broader, and they subsided into being pleased with one another quietly, serenely, and contentedly.
Elizabeth had written five letters the day little Tommy was born, letting family and a few friends know of the birth. The very next day, she had to write a few more with her latest news. This time, she wrote one to her father, a second to Jane and Mary, and the last to Charlotte.
She was grateful she had written to Jane about her courtship the week before.
It would be so awkward to write of their betrothal if she had not acknowledged the courtship.
Also, Jane had responded to that letter with an informative letter describing the latest developments between her and Mr Bingley.
After handing off her letters to the housekeeper, Elizabeth went off to find her aunt, wishing to tell her about Mr Darcy’s proposal. She came upon Nurse and Aunt conversing about milk. Nurse said, “Your mature milk might come in today, ma’am, thus silencing our disagreement.”
Disagreement? Elizabeth became much more alert, curious about what they were debating…about milk?
Aunt Maddie shook her head but wore an affectionate smile. “I cannot believe that you still feel that old wives’ tale is true, after you have seen my elder three do just fine with first milk.”
“Yes, they all seemed fine, but Doctor Jennings and Mr Silver both characterise first milk as being stale to the point of being harmful.”
Elizabeth continued to listen with interest. Even though Elizabeth had three younger sisters, she was only five when Lydia was born. Plus, her mother had used a wet nurse and had discouraged any knowledge of childbirth or infant care to reach her daughters’ ears.
But…she might need to know more of these things relatively soon.
Her aunt said, maintaining her calm tone and her smile, “Yes, but other doctors and apothecaries disagree and feel that first milk is beneficial. My brother owns an estate and claims that, when it comes to horses and cows, first milk is vital to their young. It only makes sense that the same would be true of human mothers’ first milk.
” Aunt Maddie adjusted her sitting position, apparently uncomfortable, and as she brought little Tommy to her breast, she said, “At any rate, I feel my mature milk coming in, so, as you said, this entire discussion is moot.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Nurse hurried away with a little pile of soiled linens, swaddling, and baby blankets.
Elizabeth stood up and moved to the bed, where she could see little Tommy’s energetic suckling.
“Aunt,” she said, “I so admire the fact that you read up-to-date sources and seek out doctors who honour evidence more than superstitions.” She reached out to touch Tommy’s fuzzy head, and she whispered, “I wish to be a mother just like you.”
“I am certain you will be. But do not forget, by making that pledge, it means that you will not necessarily feed your own baby just because I fed mine, nor keep your baby’s cradle next to your bed because that is what I did—if you are to emulate me, you must keep reading up-to-date findings.”
“Thank you, Aunt. You are correct, and I had not thought it through carefully, so I am happy to be reminded.”
“When you first came in the door, you looked as if you were bursting with news.”
Elizabeth smiled, and she wondered if her smile even fit her face. She said, “Mr Darcy proposed marriage.”
“Oh, my dear! That is wonderful!”
“Of course I said yes.” She watched as Tommy, having fallen asleep, pulled off the breast, and to her astonishment, multiple thin streams of milk fountained out of her aunt’s nipple.
“A cloth, please,” Aunt Maddie said, holding out the hand that was not supporting Tommy’s head.
Elizabeth took one of the soft cloths off the pile on the nearby table, and her aunt clapped it down onto her breast. Tommy’s face had been thoroughly speckled with milk, and Elizabeth carefully used a fresh cloth to wipe her newest cousin’s tiny visage.
“I am glad to hear your news, dearest,” Aunt Maddie said, “and I imagine it makes you much more interested in all things baby.”
“It does. Depending on when we wed, I could have a baby as soon as a year from now.”
“And do you feel ready for that?”
“Well, to be honest, I do not feel entirely ready at this exact moment, but I feel confident that I will be ready whenever it happens.”
“Wise words,” her aunt agreed.
“William—Mr Darcy wishes to meet with uncle tomorrow, if that is possible. He says he already has the wedding articles prepared.”
“Oh, my. That certainly shows that he has known his intentions for some time. Obtaining the documents would take at least a week. At any rate, I will let your uncle know, and perhaps he can pen a note to tell your intended what time would be convenient.”
Elizabeth held the baby while her aunt rose and refreshed herself. Nurse trotted in with Sally, and they swiftly made up the bed with fresh linens. Nurse then took the sleeping baby and easily transitioned him into the cradle, where she began a rhythmic rocking.
After helping her aunt back into the freshly-made bed, Elizabeth enquired after her needs and put in an order for tea and a cold collation. When they resumed their discussion, Aunt Maddie asked, “How do you think your father will take your news?”
“I am not certain. I have already written to him….” After a few minutes of thought, Elizabeth said, “Papa seemed impressed by Mr Darcy, but I also felt that he was entirely certain that there could never be any interest that might bridge the gulf between our circumstances. Additionally, I am positive he will say things like, ‘I did not wish to lose my cleverest daughter at such a young age.’”
“You know your father very well.”
“I do. And I hope that his sarcasm—actually, I might call it cynicism—will not anger William.”
“I imagine that Mr Darcy hid his interest until he determined to court you; it is what a gentleman ought to do, after all, so as not to excite expectations he had no intention of meeting. It is likely he had already decided to marry you by the time I had met him, and I believe that, once your father sees how your intended gazes at you, he will be happy for you.”
“And when he sees how I gaze at my intended, he will feel so much envy that he will lock me up in a tower for a decade or two.”
Both of them laughed. They knew that Elizabeth’s father would, in fact, feel disappointed for his favourite daughter to marry so soon, and that he would feel the disquiet of having been displaced as the most important man in his daughter’s life…
. But they also knew that he was sedentary enough to merely pout and then go back to his book.
He would not take vigorous actions, especially not the actions that would necessitate the construction of a tower.