Chapter 34
Lady Anne’s Grandchildren
Christmas was celebrated by the Darcy and Matlock families at Pemberley.
The carriage ride took its toll on Elizabeth, who had been uncomfortable on the four-hour journey, but she soon recovered.
She had entered her seventh month of pregnancy, and her belly was growing rapidly.
Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam joked about her size, but both hid their worry from their spouse; neither was willing to voice their thoughts and concerns.
Upon their arrival, they were immediately shown to the suite of rooms they would occupy during their stay, where they could rest and refresh.
It was not until just before the evening meal that they met their new sister.
Lady Kympton was also obviously pregnant, which they had expected, but that lady appeared to be even further along than Elizabeth.
Lady Anne, Georgiana, Kitty, and Lydia joined them in the drawing room before the evening meal.
Elizabeth was pleased with the changes in her sisters, although she had heard from them frequently in the last few months.
Both Bennet girls were significantly improved and were dressed nearly as demurely as Georgiana, whom they affectionately referred to as the sixth Bennet sister.
Lady Anne privately referred to the three girls as sisters and secretly hoped to eventually persuade them to take the name Darcy rather than Bennet.
Since the mistress had not met their guests when they arrived, that was quickly accomplished upon that lady’s entry to the drawing room.
She seemed displeased, though Elizabeth understood that feeling, as she was equally uncomfortable with her present size and shape.
Elizabeth hoped that discomfort was the cause of Lady Kympton’s apparent lack of interest in her guests.
However, given the letters she received from her mother-in-law, she doubted that was the case.
Dinner proceeded pleasantly enough, given that seven of the eight present were pleased for the opportunity to spend time together.
Although much of their news had been conveyed through letters, they enjoyed discussing it further and being reminded of things that had occurred during the last several months.
The meal lasted for several hours as Mrs. Reynolds sought to make the first evening with the family a special event.
The Matlock family arrived the following day, on Christmas Eve.
After dinner that night, the family lit the Yule log before settling in to play Snapdragon, Spillkins, and other games they enjoyed as children.
Georgiana, Kitty, and Lydia were delighted with these and, as the party’s youngest members, were thrilled they were permitted to participate.
Shortly before midnight, the entire party boarded carriages to travel into Kympton for the midnight mass.
The next day passed in a similar fashion, with the addition of small presents shared between various members of the family.
Only Lady Kympton was displeased by the informality between those gathered in her home.
Her dissatisfaction was further exacerbated by the fact that she had made little effort to organise amusements or diversions for the family.
However, her discontent lay in the near-constant pain she was enduring.
When she could no longer bear it, Arabella, as she had finally asked her family to call her, confided in her mother-in-law and aunt by marriage.
“My dear,” Lady Anne said calmly after listening to the lady, “I believe you are labouring. When did you first discover you were with child?”
Arabella told the ladies what she believed, and they quickly decided it was time to call the midwife. These might have been only the false pains women sometimes experienced, but they still felt it best to consult someone knowledgeable.
While the older ladies escorted Arabella upstairs, the rest of the party moved to the music room while waiting for news.
Despite having brokered the marriage for his nephew, Lord Matlock had been unhappy about the result.
He wanted his nephew to receive the title but had begged him not to follow through with the marriage when it was discovered the lady was with child, especially as she had been caught in flagrante with a footman.
When his nephew insisted on going forward with the match, he had encouraged George to immediately retreat to Pemberley and make arrangements with the duke about what to do with the child if it were a boy.
George’s concern for his wife stemmed from the simple fact that she was his wife.
Despite their apparent dissimilarities, he had taken the time to sit with her for a few hours each afternoon over the past several months and, in doing so, had grown to understand her more intimately.
Her frequent illness confined her to her quarters, so he had decided to join her for tea in the afternoons to make an effort to know her better.
It was only right to do so, given that they were irrevocably yoked together.
The midwife arrived shortly after she was called.
Not long after her arrival, she requested they call for the local physician.
When the gentlemen learned this, Lord Matlock took both Darcy men and the major to the billiards room to drink port and play a game while Elizabeth kept the three younger girls occupied.
As the evening wore on, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam decided to take the younger girls to the dower house for the night. Their servants packed a few things for the couple to stay the night while the rest of the party remained at the main house.
In the morning, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam returned to the main house, leaving the girls with their governess until they knew what had happened overnight.
They were greeted at the main house by a sombre Lord Matlock.
“Arabella gave birth a little after midnight to a girl. She was early and tiny—the midwife and doctor are unsure if she will survive. Arabella seemed to be well immediately after, but this morning, she became feverish. They found a tenant who recently gave birth and is feeding the child, and the midwife is doing all she can to help her. The physician is tending to Arabella, but he is uncertain how to help her. Right now, they are attempting to keep her cool and give her willow bark tea, but she is not well and has not been well for some time. That worries the physician more than anything else, as she may not have the will to recover,” he said.
Elizabeth grabbed Fitzwilliam’s hand and held it tightly.
He adjusted her hold and attempted to provide what comfort he could.
“George said she was weak—since they married, she has rarely left her rooms. At first, he believed it was the journey, but she never truly recovered. He did not know her before they married, so he could not say if she was that way before she got with child.”
Recognising his attempt to ease her worries, she nodded and leaned into him slightly. “Does the doctor believe either will survive?” she asked.
“It remains uncertain,” Lord Matlock conveyed to them. “I suspect he is apprehensive about both, though his primary concern is for his wife. She has yet to regain consciousness since she succumbed to the fever. The babe is well, although very small.”
Nodding, they inquired after the rest of the family.
Typically, on Boxing Day, the servants would have time to themselves while the family made do with minimal assistance.
The tenants and servants would receive their Christmas boxes filled with gifts from the family—food items, yarn, and other necessary items, along with some indulgences the families could not afford.
Additionally, the boxes usually contained a few coins.
Elizabeth had prepared these for their servants and tenants at Oakridge, and Fitzwilliam had arranged their delivery by the steward and housekeeper.
Those servants would receive their own box along with a substantial bonus for their excellent service over the last half a year.
After ensuring things were in hand, Elizabeth sought out her mother-in-law to inquire after Arabella. Little had changed with that lady’s condition as she was still feverish and had not regained consciousness. The longer this lasted, the less convinced the doctor was that she would survive.
A sennight later, the late marchioness was interred in the ground near the church at Kympton.
Her father, the duke, had been informed of her illness nearly immediately after her collapse.
He arrived late the following day and sat with his daughter for a while.
After she roused enough to speak briefly to his daughter the next morning, he finally met his granddaughter.
The duke and George met that morning and spoke about the child’s future—legally, she would be recognised as George’s child, but she did not share his blood. However, the duke felt he was too old to bear the responsibility of one so young, especially given how he seemed to have failed his daughter.
Hence, with input from Lord and Lady Matlock, Lady Anne, and the duke, George decided that the child would continue to reside at Pemberley.
Her mother’s dowry of forty thousand pounds would be allocated to the child, who would bear the name Lady Grace Arabella Rose Darcy.
While she would be acknowledged as George’s child, Lady Anne, along with suitable nannies and nursemaids, would be entrusted with her upbringing.
To make this possible, Lady Anne and the girls would move into the main house to be closer to the child.
Following the funeral of the former marchioness, the Pemberley guests gradually departed.
Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth were among the last to leave, and there had been discussions about whether they should stay until Elizabeth’s time for her confinement.
Although Lady Anne would have preferred her daughter-in-law to give birth at Pemberley, Elizabeth expressed her desire to have the child at her own home.
Before their departure, they received reassurances about the survival prospects of the newborn Lady Grace, although she would still face certain risks as she grew.
The journey back to Oakridge, which was supposed to take four hours, took nearly twice as long.
Elizabeth required frequent stops for walking and resting.
As her pregnancy progressed, it made it increasingly uncomfortable for her to sit for extended periods.
They had extended their stay at Pemberley beyond their original plan, and as a result, Elizabeth’s physical condition had made the journey home more challenging.
Once more, the couple resumed their routine while at home. Elizabeth continued to require frequent rest and often slept in or took naps during the day. It was common to find her dozing on the sofa while Fitzwilliam worked in their shared study.
In late February, Elizabeth started to experience increasing discomfort.
Unaware of the exact cause, Fitzwilliam, deeply affected by his sister’s experience, decided to err on the side of caution.
He promptly summoned the midwife from the nearby town of Dovedale and called for the physician, just in case.
The fear of his wife enduring a situation similar to his sister’s weighed heavily on his mind.
While they were aware of the impact of Arabella’s poor health during childbirth, Fitzwilliam felt it was wiser to be seen as an anxious new father than jeopardising his wife’s life by not seeking necessary assistance.
The midwife arrived shortly after the messengers had been dispatched, but the note was left with the physician as he was attending to another patient.
After a thorough examination of Elizabeth, the midwife delivered surprising news.
“My dear,” she said to the parents after listening closely to Elizabeth’s bare belly, “I reckon you’ve got two bairns in there.
I’m near certain I can hear two heartbeats. ”
This revelation took Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam aback, and Fitzwilliam turned ashen.
The midwife observed his reaction but proceeded with her explanation as she continued to speak about what she observed.
Finally, she concluded: “These be likely the early stages of her labouring.
It could be a few days ere she actually delivers, and ‘tis common for twins to come early.
Since I have no other expectant mothers to tend to at this moment, I can stay at the manor if ‘tis your wish.”
Nodding, Elizabeth agreed to the lady’s suggestion as her husband was still too surprised to speak.
Elizabeth called for a servant to show Mrs. Smythe to a room and to provide her with the materials necessary to send a note requesting her family send her what she needed for a short stay.
When she departed, Elizabeth turned to her husband and spoke to him.
“Are you well, Fitzwilliam?” she inquired softly.
“Two babes?” he inquired in disbelief.
She laughed. “It seems that way, although it is not certain. You heard Mrs. Smythe explain that it was uncertain, and we would not know definitely until a second child is born,” she tried to reassure her husband.
“But, still, two children born at once,” he stuttered. “Does that place you at a greater risk?”
“Cease your fretting, Fitzwilliam,” she said, “and send a messenger to your mother. If I am indeed in the early stages of labour, I would appreciate having your mother here for support. It might still be days, and you must keep yourself composed so you can be by my side.”
He paced a few steps away and then came back. Sighing deeply, he nodded and stalked off to his office to do as she suggested. Elizabeth only laughed at her adorably discomposed husband.