Prologue Part 1 A #3
“If God calls me home to His side, Mrs Reynolds will give you some letters. I need you to vow that you will do as I ask with those not for you. The one to you, you swear to do as I ask of you within. It does not demand you marry again.”
“You have my word of honour, but I want you here with me and not some letter,” Darcy responded.
“As I desire the same, my love.”
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Lady Anne’s labours began just after midnight on the fourth day of March 1796.
By seven that morning, a little girl with a mop of golden blonde hair, similar to her mother’s, was born. Lady Anne was attended by Lady Elaine, Mrs Reynolds, and the midwife. The doctor was in the hallway outside of the birthing chamber.
Lady Catherine, whose husband had been lost to a severe bout of scarlet fever, refused to attend her sister because said sister had refused all entreaties to betroth their children.
Lady Catherine thought she was punishing her sister when in fact she had gifted Lady Anne peace.
Anne de Bourgh had been very ill, but she had survived.
The babe, named Georgiana Bethany as decided by her parents some weeks earlier, was as healthy as could be.
As soon as she was cleaned and swaddled, she was handed to the nursemaid to take her to the nursery, where the wet nurse waited to feed the tiny Miss Darcy.
Unfortunately, Lady Anne was bleeding excessively, and there was nothing either the midwife or the physician could do to stem the flow of her life’s blood.
After being apprised of the situation by the doctor, Darcy and William entered the birthing chamber. The latter was shocked to see his mother’s complexion as white as the sheets on her bed. The doctor, midwife, and Lady Elaine left the chamber to allow the three Darcys time with each other.
“William, I love you. I am sorry that I must go,” Lady Anne managed.
“No! Mamma, you cannot leave us. I want you to stay,” William lamented as the tears began to cascade down his cheeks. “I love you, Mamma.”
Mrs Reynold ushered the crying boy of twelve from the chamber.
“Robert, you know…I do not want to…leave you…but He…has decided it…is my time,” Lady Anne managed.
“I love you, Anne; I always will. I will see you again in God’s kingdom one day.” Darcy climbed on the bed and took his wife into his arms. He lay there holding her long after she had breathed her last.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Even though Mrs Reynolds had handed him the letters the day after Anne passed away, it had taken Darcy a fortnight to work up the courage to read the one addressed to himself.
Elaine and Matlock had been his support since his Anne was taken home to God.
Her interment was attended by a large crowd of men, which included tenants and servants.
Back at the house, Andrew and Richard had done what they were able to comfort William.
His son had not wanted to see George Wickham, and Darcy had honoured his request. Elaine had acted as hostess to receive the ladies who had come to condole with the Darcys.
Unfortunately, the termagant who was Lady Catherine de Bourgh had to be notified of her sister’s death.
She had arrived two days after the funeral complaining loudly that it had not been held until she arrived.
Then, she had attempted to take over the mistress’s duties; however, her brother had quickly put paid to that notion.
If that was not enough, she attempted to assert that Anne had agreed to an engagement between her son and Anne de Bourgh.
That had been enough for Darcy. He had ejected her from his home and told her that as long as he was alive, she was not welcome in any of his homes. In addition, he reminded her that he and her brother were the executors of Sir Lewis’s will.
In the time since her birth, he had not allowed himself to see his daughter yet. In his mind she represented Anne’s death.
Now he sat at his desk, Anne’s letter in his hand. He took a deep breath, broke his darling late wife’s seal, and smoothed out the paper before he began to read.
15 January 1796
My dearest Robert, my soul mate, and the love of my life.
If you are reading this, then the thing we both prayed would not, came to pass. Robert, do not be angry at God for bringing me home. We cannot know what His plan is, so I will not question it.
You know where to place the other letters.
I do not want to take the chance that anyone, especially not your godson or my sister, will sniff around and find these before it is time to give them to those for whom they are meant.
Obviously, you may consign the ones for the child who was not born to the fire.
I remind you that I elicited your word of honour to do the following:
You are not to blame our son or daughter (if he or she survived) for my death.
Make sure William does not reject his sibling for the same reason.
You must love him or her as much as you do William.
I am not asking you to remarry, but you will not withdraw from the world and become a recluse. After the mourning period is over, you will live your life.
Be the man I love—the one who will move heaven and earth for his children.
Do not mourn me for longer than one year.
This is a request, not a demand. Please remember that George Wickham is not your child. For some reason, you wear blinders when it comes to that boy. All I ask is that you open your eyes.
Yes, it was hard for him when his mother was killed three years past. Do not forget it was in an accident on a curricle with her paramour. You did not see it, but the rest of us did. The late Mrs Wickham manipulated you into being her son’s godfather.
Enough about them.
I regret not one second of the time you and I shared together. You, Robert, filled my life with love. I will see you in His kingdom one day which I pray, will not be for many years.
With all my love and so much more,
Anne
Darcy had tears in his eyes when he had read the letter. The first thing he did was burn those addressed to Alexander, and he placed the rest where Anne had asked of him. With that done, he headed for the nursery to meet his daughter.