An Unwavering Trust

by L. L. Diamond

  Her lips formed a thin line. “I see the fear in your eyes, Fitzwilliam. Do not begin fretting now. Otherwise, you will do her no good when her time comes.”

  He swallowed hard and then cleared his throat in a futile attempt to dislodge the lump that had arisen. “I know you are correct.”

  “Yes, I am,” she affirmed. “Now, pour me a brandy. I have been cooped up in a carriage all day and could use some refreshment.” She sat in a wingback chair and took her glass when it was offered.

  He took a seat near Elizabeth’s head as his grandmother sipped her drink. Had his grandfather ever introduced her to cigars? A small snort escaped at the thought.

  “What amuses you?”

  “It is nothing, Grandmamma. I assure you.”

  She gave an exasperated sigh. “I am in no mood to speculate, so out with it.”

  One lip tugged upwards as he shifted in his seat. “Did grandfather ever teach you to smoke cigars?”

  The dowager countess scoffed. “Of course not! I am a lady and would never smoke such a vile thing.” She brushed a bit of fluff from her skirt. “Besides, he said he did not want me to smell of the dining room after the ladies left.”

  He chuckled, but eyed her with suspicion, assuming there was more to the story than she was divulging.

  “I will not tell you more, so do not stare so!”

  Chuckling, he took a sip of his drink. “Yes, grandmamma.”

  “You should know I brought your cousins with me. They wished to refresh themselves before greeting you.” She spoke in a casual manner, not as though she had brought unexpected guests. “Huntley was not having much luck this season, and their mother has lost all patience with him. Richard only has a fortnight away from his regiment, but he does hope to be here for the birth. He wishes to be of assistance to you.”

  “The midwife believes the end of the month or the beginning of April.”

  His grandmother peered at Elizabeth’s bulge and lifted her eyebrows. “Another three weeks?” she asked sceptically.

  “Yes, why?”

  She shook her head and took another sip of her brandy. “No reason. No reason at all.”

  Elizabeth sat across the table from Darcy at dinner. It had been five days since the arrival of his grandmother and cousins, and she had borne their company well. Tonight, her appearance was not out of the ordinary, except that she was quiet—too quiet. Not so much as a word had left her lips during the first two courses, and she pushed the food around her plate as though she were attempting to discern the most appealing arrangement. She was not eating.

  His grandmother appraised her from the seat to her left. “Lizzy, you are rather dull this evening.”

  A forced smile resembling a grimace appeared upon his wife’s face. “I apologise, Grandmamma. I do not feel well. Perhaps I should excuse myself. I do not wish to be rude.”

  “Dearest, I was not intimating you should leave.” The elder lady took Elizabeth’s hand. “However, if you would feel more comfortable in your chambers, I will accompany you and aid you in becoming settled.”

  “That may be for the best.” Her pale countenance and easy acquiescence made his stomach clench.

  His concern rising to the fore, Darcy began to stand, but Elizabeth stayed him. “I am well. I simply have no appetite, and my back aches. Be assured that Grandmamma will be of great assistance to me, whilst you remain as host to your cousins.”

  “Are you certain?” He glanced to Huntley and Richard who were both attending to the conversation. “They are able to amuse themselves.”

  “We are in the room,” interrupted Huntley.

  She grinned, but again, the expression was not genuine. “I am well aware of the fact they can amuse themselves, and that you are within the room.”

  Darcy rose to help her to her feet. “Richard, Huntley, I will return in a moment.” It did not matter whether they agreed or not, he would escort his wife to her rooms.

  With his grandmother trailing behind, he led Elizabeth from the dining room. They came to a halt at the foot of the stairs when she bid him pause. “You are not well.”

  “I hurt.” She placed her hand to her back kneaded her fingers into the flesh. “My back usually aches, but not like this.”

  With a touch to Elizabeth’s abdomen, his grandmother’s expression changed to one of concern. “How long have you been in such pain, Lizzy?”

  “Since late this morning.”

  “Why have you not said something sooner?” The urgent tone of her voice brought Darcy’s stomach into his chest.

  A tear made its way down Elizabeth’s cheek as she looked to the older lady in alarm. “I did not think it was anything out of the ordinary.”

  Mrs. Green bustled in from the servant’s hallway, and the dowager turned to her. “Please send for the midwife.”

  His eyes widened. “Do you truly think?”

  The dowager shook her head. “I do not know, but I do not want to deliver this child if it is.” Using her thumb to work upon Elizabeth’s lower back, she asked, “Lizzy, is there no pain in your belly at all?”

  Elizabeth peered between them. “The pain in my back wraps around to my stomach, but it is not as the midwife described.” She put her hand to her abdomen and flinched.

  With a firm grip on his wife’s elbow, his grandmother gave him a significant glance. “I think it is time to get you upstairs.”

  Darcy wrapped an arm around her back and walked Elizabeth towards their chambers. They reached the door and, suddenly, his wife bent over with her hand again at her abdomen, sucking a breath between her teeth. When her distress passed, he helped her straighten, but she wore a strange expression.

  “Fitzwilliam?” She lifted her skirt a few inches to reveal her now wet slippers.

  His grandmother’s strident voice commanded his attention. “Do not faint, Fitzwilliam! Return to your cousins and allow me to handle this.”

  The lump in his throat bid a hasty retreat as he gulped it down. “But… I cannot leave her.”

  “You paled at the sight of her waters. We do not have time to attend you, should you swoon.”

  “Elizabeth?”

  Her weary eyes locked with his. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Good,” she replied breathlessly. “Then leave me with Grandmamma and return to Richard and Huntley.”

  “But they do not need me…”

  A weak chuckle escaped her lips. “Grandmamma brought them to keep you busy whilst I laboured, so allow them to be of use.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. “You turned ashen upon seeing my wet slippers. I do want you with me, but I know Grandmamma is correct.”

  An unforced wry grin appeared upon her face. “Think upon it as me saving your reputation. What would your cousins say if you fainted?” His grandmother began to chuckle, and he shook his head.

  She reached up and bestowed a sweet kiss upon his cheek. “I love you, but I cannot remain in the corridor.” Her expression was hopeful when she drew back. “I will see you when he arrives?”

  Darcy nodded as he once again swallowed down the bile that had risen in his throat; his wife had disappeared through the door.

  His grandmother stepped forward. “You must remember she will be well—she and the child.”

  With a slight tremor, his voice cracked as he tried to speak. “You will not leave her?”

  “I swear to you, I will remain by her side for the duration.”

  His grandmother followed his wife into her bedchamber, and closed the door behind them. The solid oak panel remained closed and did not reopen though he remained, rooted to the spot, for several moments. Why should he not be allowed inside? His relegation to the dining room or the library with his cousins was maddening! Those were the last places he wished to be!

  Despite his upset, he did make his way back to the dining room, where he was received with a hearty welcome.

  “Thank goodness you have returned!” exclaimed Richard. “Knowles would not
allow the next course to be served until you were back.”

  A plate was set before him, but he did not see what was placed on the fine china. His physical being was in the dining room with his cousins, yet everything within him remained in the corridor outside of his chambers.

  Huntley waved a hand before his face to garner his attention. “I heard Grandmamma sent for the midwife. Is it time?”

  Richard glanced in Darcy’s direction and snickered. “I would take his preoccupation as a confirmation, brother. I must say, I am relieved. Lizzy has looked miserable as of late, and I had begun to worry she might go longer than I can remain.”

  “Do you think I cannot keep him distracted enough on my own?”

  A snort erupted from Richard and he began to shake with mirth. “You would drown him in port and brandy until he was rendered unconscious!”

  Huntley became affronted. “I most certainly would not! Why do you always paint me as such a disreputable character? I happen to know many of your unsavoury exploits!”

  “As I know yours, brother dear. I am sure we could paint one another with a most unflattering brush.”

  “But I do not accuse you of behaving with dishonour!”

  Richard balked and stood. “I never…”

  “Enough!” boomed Darcy. “If this is how you plan to distract me from Elizabeth, then you may leave me to my own devices! I do not intend to pass the next day listening to you both bicker as boys in your short pants!”

  Both cousins had the sense to appear ashamed, and Richard returned to his chair. “I apologise, Darce. I will wait to lump my brother’s jolly knob until after the child is born.”

  He sighed and glanced down at the dish. “I cannot eat.”

  A look of concern crossed Richard’s face. “She could labour through the night. You must eat something.”

  With a grimace, he pushed the plate away. “Please tell cook there is nothing wrong with the meal. I am certain it is wonderful, but I lack the appetite.”

  The footman removed the dish. “Yes, sir.”

  Huntley held his fork aloft. “You will not mind if we eat our meals, will you? We would like to carry out our duties with aplomb.”

  Darcy’s lips quirked up at his cousin’s absurdity. “Please finish your meal. I shall not be offended.” He reached for his glass of wine and took a sip. “As you said, it will be a long evening.”

  Five hours later, Darcy was pacing the library while he awaited word on his wife’s condition. Mrs. Green had been down several times to inform him all was well, and that Elizabeth was progressing as expected. Yet, Elizabeth’s health could not be confirmed with his own eyes, so he fretted.

  “You will wear a hole in the rug if you continue,” remarked Huntley. He was not yet in his cups, but he had made a concerted effort to become so over the last five hours. Richard had enjoyed his liquor but had not imbibed to the extent his brother had. Darcy could feel his eyes upon him as he continued to stride back and forth.

  After deciding he had waited long enough, he began to move towards the door but an arm dragged him back. He turned to glance behind where Richard had grabbed hold of his arm to tug him towards the chair he had occupied earlier.

  “Release me.” His voice was harsher than he intended, but he would not be restrained.

  “Grandmamma will fetch you when you can see her. In the meantime, you must remain with us.”

  “I will ask you once more to release me, Richard,” he growled as he yanked his arm away from his cousin. “I do not wish to harm you.”

  Huntley sniggered and took a swig of his port. “My wager is on Richard. Sorry, Darcy.”

  Richard grasped his arm, this time around the bicep, and pulled. “You will not hurt me. Sit down, and I will get you a glass of port.”

  He tried to remove his arm from Richard’s grip, but his hold was too firm. His cousin pivoted to ascertain why he had not moved when Darcy clenched his fist and delivered a brilliant blow with his right hand to Richard’s jaw.

  His cousin hit the floor with a thud, and Huntley began to guffaw. “I did not think he had it in him!”

  Darcy was free and therefore not concerned that Huntley rose from his chair in an attempt to aid his brother who was rising from the rug. He made to return to the door when Mrs. Green entered with haste.

  “I apologise for the interruption, but sir, we are in need of your assistance with the mistress.”

  Something within his chest lurched with fear. “Is she well?”

  “She is, sir. The midwife asked her to rise to take her place in the birthing chair, but the pain in her back is so intense, she cannot stand. You are the only suitable person to request for help in this instance.”

  He gave Richard a smug expression as the man rubbed his jaw with a grimace. “I am that, Mrs. Green. Please lead the way.” The housekeeper preceded him to their chambers and through to the sitting room where she glanced inside. Why had she not continued?

  “I thought I was needed?”

  “You are, sir, but the midwife was insistent that I not bring you in whilst your wife was having a pain.”

  The room ahead quieted with the exception of his grandmother’s voice, which was soft and full of praise. When he entered, Elizabeth was curled onto her side, pale and drenched with sweat. Without waiting for instructions, he made his way past Mrs. Green and dropped to his knees near the edge of the bed.

  “Elizabeth.” He spoke softly and caressed her arm to gain her attention.

  “Oh! Fitzwilliam!” Her arms wrapped around his neck as the damp from her hair wet his cheek.

  Darcy’s arms engulfed her in a fierce embrace, yet he remembered his task and moved one arm under her knees in order to lift her. With a gasp, her body tensed when he stood. Her eyes fluttered with exhaustion and the lines upon her face spoke of her pain. How could she take any more?

  He peppered numerous kisses on her crown and curls while he carried her across the room to the birthing chair. He murmured in her ear, “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too,” she sobbed. “I am exhausted. I do not think I can do this.”

  He pressed another kiss between her eyebrows. “You are the strongest woman I know, Elizabeth Darcy. You can deliver this baby. I have faith in you.” Before he could place her in the seat, her body went rigid and her hands gripped him with a force he had not expected.

  “Hurry, sir.” The urgency in the midwife’s voice carried through the sound of Elizabeth clawing his coat and the blood pounding in his ears. “Place her in the chair and then you must leave.”

  With great care, he set his burden in what appeared to be the most uncomfortable wooden chair he had ever set eyes upon, but she refused to release him. Instead, she began to cry out as she grasped and pulled at his cravat.

  The midwife stepped forward with her arm outstretched towards the door. “It is time you left, sir.”

  He gestured to his throat where Elizabeth had not relinquished her grip in the slightest. “I cannot.”

  “That is it, Mrs. Darcy!”

  His wife’s face contorted in pain as she twisted his cravat, restricting his breathing. He glanced up to seek help but instead, his grandmother chuckled.

  “You are laughing?” he choked out.

  With a snort, his grandmother shook her head. “You are not even blue yet.” She reached across, removed Elizabeth’s hand from his cravat, and began to speak to her over her cry.

  “Mr. Darcy!” The midwife glared, and he reluctantly drew himself up from Elizabeth’s side.

  The room was entirely too hostile! He removed himself with all due haste and strode straight to the library, where Huntley and Richard watched as he made his way to the crystal decanter to pour a full snifter of brandy.

  “Darce?” said Huntley with reticence. The brothers both stood and came to stand to each side of him.

  He took a deep breath and brought the glass to his lips in an attempt to drink the entirety of its contents. After three gulps, Richard wreste
d the brandy from his hand, which then spilled down the front of his cravat and waistcoat.

  Huntley leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “She must be close if they needed help to move her to the birthing chair?”

  A loud cry echoed from the direction of the stairs and Richard’s eyes widened. He then brought Darcy’s glass to his lips and took a large swig. “We should have James bring you a change of clothes. You cannot meet your child stinking of liquor.”

  James appeared soon after with the much-needed change of clothes and had Darcy dressed and returned to the library with haste; a new glass of brandy was clenched in his hand as he posted himself by the window, staring out into the darkness.

  The wait felt like hours, but according to the clock, he only stood before that window for another hour complete before his grandmother entered the room. He attempted to ascertain the outcome by her expression, but she revealed nothing.

  “You are wanted in your chambers, Fitzwilliam.”

  Chapter 26

  Darcy did not wait but a second before he tore out of the library as though something chased him for dear life. He took the stairs two at a time and raced down the hall until he reached the outer doors to their sitting room, where he halted and took a deep breath.

  How was Elizabeth? His grandmother surely would have said something had the birth not gone well!

  He had discarded his topcoat soon after he donned it, but gave his remaining waistcoat a shaky tug before he opened the door. The room was empty, so he moved to the entry to his chambers, giving a tremulous breath as he turned the knob.

  The dark oak of the door swung open, and his gaze was immediately drawn to the bed, where a radiant Elizabeth lay with a swaddled bundle in her arms.

  Mrs. Green approached and gave a swift curtsy. “Congratulations, Mr. Darcy. Please ring if you require any assistance.”

  He nodded as he continued to stare, entranced, at his wife. Despite her damp hair and her exhausted appearance, she was beautiful. Her hair was drawn back into a plait, but a few unruly curls had escaped the confines of the arrangement, framing her face. Her skin glowed and her cheeks were rosy, which confirmed her immediate health.