Chapter 35
Changes
Surprisingly, when it began in earnest, Elizabeth’s lying-in concluded swiftly.
Things started in the middle of the night when Elizabeth awakened to a sensation of dampness, suspecting her waters had broken.
It took some effort to wake her husband, and several additional minutes were needed to ensure he was awake enough to summon the servants and seek assistance.
Before long, Elizabeth had been changed into a dry nightgown and transferred to another bedchamber, where the labour began to progress in earnest. By the time the sun ascended in the eastern sky, one child had already been delivered, and the second was well on his way.
True to his word, Fitzwilliam remained with her through the entire process.
When the birthing was done, and the new mother and children dressed in clean attire, the new family sat together on their bed, staring at the children they held in their arms. “They are beautiful, sweetheart,” Fitzwilliam said as he kissed her forehead. “You did wonderfully.”
“You did well also, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth teased. “Mrs. Smythe was convinced several times she would have to pick you up off the floor, but you did not swoon.”
“Elizabeth,” he chided with feigned sternness, “men, particularly Darcy men, do not swoon. William, Nathaniel, you must not listen to your mama when she teases me this way.”
She laughed wholeheartedly, but the sudden noise and movement startled both boys.
In unison, they gently rocked the babies they were holding to soothe them, sharing a smile when they noticed their synchronised actions.
“You would have our sons not believe a word I say, and they are not even a day old,” she jested.
“I am seriously outnumbered here. We must have a girl or two next.”
“You speak of the next? Already?” Fitzwilliam asked incredulously.
Elizabeth shrugged. “It will be some time before we can resume our… intimate activities,” she replied.
“And your mother informed me nursing the children myself can help prevent another pregnancy for a year or so. That is one reason I was so insistent upon it, and your mother does support the idea, especially as long as we remain in the countryside. But since we will not be going to London for the season this year, there is no reason why I cannot nurse the boys. We may still need a wet nurse since there are twice as many to feed…” She trailed off when she noticed her husband’s expression. “What is wrong, Fitzwilliam?”
“But if you nurse the children, we cannot be intimate. I am not sure I am willing to forgo that for such a long time,” he replied softly.
“It does not, my love,” Elizabeth told him gently. “We can resume once I am well—the midwife said a month to six weeks—but my nursing does not change anything about our relations.”
Relieved, Fitzwilliam used his free arm to draw his wife closer.
The idea of an extended period without marital intimacy concerned him, but he was unwilling to reject her request outright.
Their discussion had brought him to a place of understanding regarding its importance to her.
They continued talking for several minutes, but Fitzwilliam noticed his wife’s responses growing slower, realising she was drifting off.
Content to watch his wife and sons sleep, he allowed her to rest. About an hour later, Lady Anne gently entered the room to check on the new family.
She found them snuggled together, peacefully asleep.
Carefully, she took one child and the other from their parents’ arms, allowing the new parents to enjoy some much-needed rest while she watched over her grandsons.
Lady Anne extended her stay at Oakridge for another fortnight. Once she was confident Elizabeth, along with the nursemaids and the wet nurse who had been hired, could manage the care of the twins, she bid her farewells and returned to her residence.
Once at Pemberley, Lady Anne spent her days overseeing the girls’ progress in their studies and dedicating a significant amount of her time to baby Grace.
Although Grace wasn’t her biological grandchild, Lady Anne cherished her from the moment she was born.
In passing, she contemplated the idea that perhaps one day, young William might marry his “cousin,” which could ensure Pemberley’s enduring presence within the Darcy family and provide Grace with the opportunity to remain in her home throughout her life.
However, Lady Anne was adamant in her belief no one should be compelled into a marriage against their will, as she had cherished her husband deeply.
She mourned her son’s decision to arrange a marriage with a woman he did not even like.
His marriage embittered George, although he also felt he deserved the life he had due to his intemperate youth.
He was father in name only to a child who did not carry his blood but was, fortunately, female.
To obtain a title, he had married a woman he barely knew and certainly did not love, although, by the time she had died, he had liked the woman.
Perhaps, had she survived, they might have become friends, but she had not lived long enough to find out.
Due to his wife’s confinement and subsequent passing, George abstained from participating in parliament this year.
Despite his apprehensions about returning to London, he was well aware the responsibility of the marquessate loomed ahead.
It was an obligation he had embraced when he accepted the peerage, and he knew he would need to address it, but he decided to postpone his return until autumn.
When autumn arrived, he journeyed to London, bidding farewell to Lady Anne, his sisters, and his daughter at Pemberley.
Lady Anne respected his choice, yet she could not help but express her concern, urging her brother and his wife to watch over her son.
He remained in mourning for several months, adamant in his vow to never remarry.
His mother found this decision regrettable, believing he had not yet experienced the true depths of love and his cynicism towards society was influencing his perspective.
She attributed his aversion to marriage to his observation of the deep and genuine love between his brother and his wife, which left him unwilling to settle for another typical marriage of the ton.
George threw himself into his duties as a member of parliament.
He found himself championing various causes close to his heart and those significant to his family.
Even before Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam came to London, he spent much time with the Gardiners, a couple he had grown to respect deeply.
Through this association, George’s perspective on many issues evolved significantly, and he developed a heightened sensitivity to the economic challenges London grappled with.
Gardiner’s insights opened his eyes to the real struggles faced by people in various strata of society, and this understanding drove him to work fervently to address these concerns as a Member of Parliament.
The two men often debated the pressing issues of their era, delving deep into topics ranging from the escalating problems with Luddites in the northern regions to the pervasive social unrest in the heart of London.
As their discussions unfolded, George genuinely appreciated Mrs. Gardiner’s insights into the plight of the poor and orphaned populations in the city.
She painted a vivid picture of the dire circumstances they faced, their struggles to secure necessities, and the dearth of opportunities available to them, something George had never really observed and had certainly never experienced.
He began to realise his life had been relatively insular in the years he focused mainly on his own amusement.
Her heartfelt descriptions and first-hand accounts of the challenges these vulnerable communities confronted profoundly impacted George.
He realised the issues they discussed were not mere abstractions but were stark, immediate realities for many Londoners.
Mrs. Gardiner’s stories underscored the urgent need for meaningful reforms and drove his determination to use his position in parliament to advocate for change.
In the spring of 1811, the Fitzwilliam Darcys embarked on a journey to London for the season.
Their entourage included Lady Anne, her daughters, and the youngest addition, Lady Grace.
This travel experience was marked by three energetic toddlers, making the journey more eventful and requiring additional time compared to their usual trips.
Thankfully, with a caravan of carriages and plenty of young aunts, the children were entertained, and the responsibilities were shared among several individuals.
Fitzwilliam might have grumbled on occasion, but he found solace in taking breaks from the confines of the carriage and enjoying some time on horseback when needed.
Upon their arrival at Darcy House, they were taken aback by the transformation in George.
The carefree man they had known almost two years ago had given way to a much more serious man.
Lady Anne’s initial concern for her eldest son quickly gave way to understanding what caused this transformation as they spoke.
The bitterness and melancholy casting a shadow over him at Pemberley seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a newfound determination.
Included was a previously unknown attempt to know his daughter.
Lady Anne was pleased when she watched him play with his daughter and begin to know her.