"He is a busy saint. And the last step before Saint Jude of lost causes."
She rested her hands on her belly and he put his hand over hers.
"Thomas?" he asked.
She smiled, nodding but suddenly gritted her teeth and breathed shallowly.
"Elizabeth? What is wrong? The pain?"
She nodded.
"Does it hurt?" he asked uncertainly.
"Yes, it hurts," she said through clenched teeth, then closed her eyes like she could block out the pain. "Oh God, it hurts."
"I'm sorry," he said in his tiniest, the sorriest voice. "I am so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"
"I need to get up!"
"Get up?"
"Yes! Please, help me. My back is killing me." She left the bed supported on his arm. She walked to the window and rounded around the room.
"It hurts less when I am walking. Or at least it was working with Jane."
He stepped toward her, noticing the floor was wet. A puddle of fluid seeped from underneath her nightgown.
"Get the doctor? Midwife?" he asked, and she shook her head, finally taking a deep breath.
She let him carry her back to the bed. As he was laying her down, Mrs. Reynolds knocked and entered, bringing Elizabeth's lunch tray so she wouldn't have to tackle the stairs. Georgiana entered after her. "I think it's time," Darcy said, putting a stack of pillows behind his wife. "Georgie, wait in the hall. I'll be right there."
"Elizabeth?"
"It is all good, Georgie," Elizabeth responded, "The baby is coming."
*~~*~~*
Elizabeth wasn't normally a restless person but she couldn't seem to get comfortable for more than a few seconds. Instead of staying in bed, she paced as long as she was able. She stood and leaned forward, bracing her hands on the footboard. She knelt on all fours, and then shifted to her back again, then side to side, then to her back, which was how Mrs. Reynolds found her when she returned with clean towels and a basin of water.
"How far apart?"
"About ten minutes," Darcy answered.
"Hard?"
He nodded. He could feel the womb becoming as hard as the rock beneath his hand on her abdomen, then softening again. As the contraction passed, he wiped Elizabeth's forehead, which helped no one but gave him something to do. He shouldn't even be with her but it was his house, and he dared anyone to tell him to leave.
"It hurts in my back," she said tiredly, looking like she might cry. "It should not hurt my back."
"The midwife is coming," he assured her. "Try to rest until the next pain." He looked at Mrs. Reynolds, then at the clock, and asked tersely. "Where is she? It's been two hours. And Mrs. Reynolds, maybe we should send for a doctor as well?"
"I already did, Mr. Darcy."
Elizabeth rolled toward Darcy so Mrs. Reynolds could replace the towel under her hips. He was watching Elizabeth's pale face but noticed there was a slight pause before his housekeeper told her to roll back. When she dropped the used towel in the basket beside the bed, he saw blood on it.
He didn't remember there being much blood before Jane was born. After, yes, but not before.
"Ma'am, I'm not a midwife," Mrs. Reynolds said, "but I had five babies of my own and I was there when the other ten was born. Will you let me check?"
Elizabeth nodded, and Darcy faced away from the bed, listening to the sheets shifting and limbs moving but turned when Mrs. Reynolds called for him.
"The baby's head is here," she told him, pulling the sheet back in place and putting her hand high on Elizabeth's belly. "It hasn't turned but must be big and coming fast."
"What does it mean?"
"She needs a doctor. The baby needs a doctor, it will not come out in that position," she said, speaking softly, but gravely. "Once she pushes…" She trailed off, shaking her head silently.
"The midwife should be here long time ago. And where is the doctor?! I will bring someone from Lampton."
"I'll stay with her while you go," Mrs. Reynolds responded. She cleaned her other hand on a towel, leaving more smears of blood. "Just find anyone you can, Mr. Darcy. Hurry."
"Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth mumbled weakly.
"I'm going to find a doctor," he assured her, finding an encouraging smile, then biting his chapped lips. "And I'll be right back."
She nodded again, letting go of his hand.
He went downstairs and as frightened as he was, exhaled when he saw the horses at the front door and the doctor amongst his people.
"I am sorry Mr. Darcy; the midwife you are waiting for is delivering a baby now. I asked her to stay with the woman because it seems I am much needed here. How is Mrs. Darcy?"
"She needs your help, Mr. Walsh." The men run upstairs.
The doctor looked appalled when Mrs. Reynolds let Darcy in like his sanctuary was being invaded, but Master of this house ignored him and sat on the bed beside his wife. She looked pale and tired, but calmer than she'd been earlier. A bottle on the night stand indicated the doctor had just given her something, maybe laudanum, to ease the pain.
"How are you?" he asked, stroking the sweaty strands of hair that had worked their way out of her braid. "How's our Thomas?"
"The doctor is going to turn him. It should be all right now," she said softly.
"Good," he said as if he believed her. Elizabeth wouldn't win any prizes for lying. She could be closed-lipped, but once she opened her mouth, she might as well tell the truth, because she fooled no one. He could see her eyes becoming glassy and her body relaxing as the laudanum took hold.
"Mr. Darcy, I need you to wait outside," the doctor announced, rolling up his sleeves.
"I'll be right outside," he said lightly, kissing her damp forehead.
*~~*~~*
He sat sideways on the top step, legs sprawled and eyes fixed on the opposite end of the long hallway as if his tired gaze could penetrate the chamber's door. Georgiana was one step down, wrapped in a blanket from her bed and staring blankly. His sister's head bobbed a few times as her eyelids lowered but she startled, shaking awake like a toddler fighting a nap.
"You can sleep, Georgie," Darcy mumbled. "Go to your room and get some rest. I'll wake you when the baby comes."
A floorboard creaked, sounding suspiciously like a woman moaning, and Darcy had to stop breathing momentarily. He stared at the door, willing it to open. All he could hear was silence, which was dry kindling to an overactive imagination.
There was a schedule. Once an hour, Mrs. Reynolds or the maid would come out and update him and it was an agonising forty-seven minutes and twelve seconds until the three in the morning update.
Another moan, this time definitely Elizabeth's and definitely real, because Georgiana heard it too. Darcy bit his lower lip, which burned as the chapped skin stretched between his teeth.
The girl pulled the blanket tighter around her and craned to see if the bedroom door looked any different. She inhaled.
"What's wrong? Why isn't the baby coming?"
"The doctor is with her," Darcy answered evasively. "He is a good doctor. He delivers lots of babies. He delivered you. He…" He wanted to say, "he took care of your mother and Anne," but shivered as a chill trickled down his spine like a single bead of sweat.
"I want nothing to happen to Elizabeth," Georgiana whispered, fear stealing into her voice like a cold fog. "I don't but… I'm scared. I don't want to be here if something happens to her."
"She's going to be fine, Georgie. The doctor's doing everything he can. He-"
Even Darcy could hear the lack of conviction in his voice, so he just stopped speaking. He exhaled, not sure how much of the empty space inside him was cold and exhaustion and how much was fear. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, forehead on his palms.
"Everything will be fine, Georgie. Everything will be fine. It won't be much longer." Which was what Elizabeth said four hours ago.
"Then we'll go to Kent?"
Darcy leaned harder on his elbows, kneading his forehead with his f
ingertips.
"Brother?"
"Georgie" he muttered tiredly.
He heard Georgiana adjust her blanket and hunker lower, trying to disappear into the shadows.
"Yes, we'll go," Darcy amended. "But not until I'm sure Elizabeth and the baby are all right. And that's not going to be for a few days. Maybe a few weeks, even."
Darcy glanced up, expecting to see Georgiana on her feet and walking away. Instead, his sister just sat, looking young and lost and afraid. Below them, the grandfather's clock in the hall chimed two-fifteen.
*~~*~~*
Night thinned into a fine silky blackness and ripped, letting the first scarlet traces of dawn spill through the delicate fabric. Aside from his soft snores downstairs and the sounds from the other side of the bedroom door, the world was silent, insulated by the white drifts that glistened silver in the last of the moonlight.
Darcy's chapped lower lip had split into three places and he alternated the tip of his tongue between the raw fissures.
About four in the morning his imagination had gotten the best of him and he'd demanded to see Elizabeth, which was "interfering" and "getting in the way," according to the incensed doctor. When he'd protested that he'd been there when Jane was born, the doctor had threatened to leave, saying he wouldn't stand for such impropriety. Under any other circumstances, Darcy would have told him to go to Hell. Proper or not, no one told him where he could be or not be in his own house.
"Mr. Darcy, are you still there?" His housekeeper's voice asked.
"I'm here," he answered immediately, scrambling up and standing as close as he could to the closed bedroom door without merging into it. "What is it, Mrs. Reynolds? What's wrong?"
"The baby kicked," she responded. "I'm sure of it."
Darcy nodded and slid back to the floor, tilting his face upward and saying a silent thank you. According to the doctor, the baby had finally turned but then stopped moving. The baby was too big, Elizabeth was too tired and uncooperative, and it had been too long. Saving Elizabeth was the priority now, he'd said.
"How is Elizabeth?" he asked shakily. "Is she awake?"
That was the main problem as well as Darcy understood it. The doctor had given Elizabeth laudanum, so she'd relax and he could turn the baby. But either the doctor had given her too much, or she was too exhausted because she'd relaxed to the point of unconsciousness and the contractions had stopped.
"I think so," Mrs. Reynolds answered. "The pains have started again."
"Just a little longer, Mr. Darcy," the housekeeper said. "Why don't you wait downstairs?"
He shook his head defiantly as if there was anyone to see him. When he opened his hands, his fingernails had dug eight little crescents into his palms. He interlaced his fingers and closed his eyes, continuing his dialogue with God. He sat under the door of the bedroom when he heard Mrs. Reynolds.
"Push, Ma'am, push."
"Push," Darcy echoed silently, keeping his eyes clenched shut and his front teeth pressed together so hard his forehead throbbed. Elizabeth mumbled something, saying "no" and then something he couldn't understand.
"Mrs. Darcy, I need you to wake up and push," the doctor requested sternly.
"Push, Elizabeth," the older woman said again. "Don't go back to sleep. Listen to the doctor. Wake up and push. Your baby's ready to come."
"Push, my love," Darcy prayed.
He heard her whimper as she tried to obey, then collapse back onto the pillows, panting.
"Again," the doctor ordered.
The pained noises on the other side of the door built to an escalation with Mrs. Reynolds's and the doctor's voices urging Elizabeth to try one last time. He heard a long moan and then, as the seconds passed, nothing. Elizabeth panted tiredly, quick footsteps crossed the floor but there was no sound from the baby. There was a slap, some frantic whispering and still nothing.
"Clean out its mouth," Mrs. Reynolds's voice suggested.
"It's clean," the doctor responded tersely. "Get me another towel."
Darcy stared at his hands, focusing on the white knuckles and mottled red tips. "Breathe, breathe, breathe," he chanted silently, feeling his cracked lips moving but no air coming out.
He finally heard a weak cry and exhaled, unclenching his aching fingers. He put one palm on the cool door as if he could feel the baby's heartbeat through it.
"Is he okay?" He cried.
"It's a girl," the doctor said as the baby's cries grew louder.
"A little girl," Darcy echoed in surprise. "Oh my God, we have a baby girl. "Is Elizabeth okay? Elizabeth?"
"She should be fine," the doctor answered and a heavyweight lifted from Darcy's shoulders.
He nodded again and hurried to the top of the stairs, calling for Georgiana. When there was no response, he went to wake her, barely feeling his feet skipping down the steps or his hand gliding along the bannister.
"A girl," he informed the cook and Jane's nursemaid, who'd fallen asleep in the parlour as they waited. He jostled their shoulders excitedly. "The baby's here. It's a little girl. We have a little girl."
He was half a step from throwing open the front door and giddily announcing the news to the frozen world. He had a baby girl.
"Georgie, the baby's here," he told his sister as the girl raised her head, trying to get her eyes to open. Georgiana looked curiously at her brother's hand on his arm, then went back to sleep. "A little girl. Come on, wake up!"
The girl blinked and stumbled after him obediently, following Darcy. They met Mrs. Reynolds halfway as she carried a tiny bundle of white flannel.
"Olivia," Mrs. Reynolds told them, smiling proudly. "Mrs. Darcy just told her name is Olivia."
"Olivia?" He asked as she handed him a baby. He'd been euphoric before but as the weight settled safely into his arms, he momentarily lost the power of speech. "She's- She's- Oh, my God."
"Congratulations," Mrs. Reynolds responded, glowing. "She's beautiful."
"Olivia," he repeated, rolling the word around his mouth. "Hello, Miss Olivia Darcy. Hello there." Georgiana leaned closer and Darcy added, "Meet your big aunt. This is Georgiana. And Jane is your sister, but she is sleeping right now. And I'm your father. Are you going to open your eyes for us, little one?"
"She's red," Georgiana mumbled, still not really awake.
"She just came. She was just born a few minutes ago. The doctor's still with Elizabeth."
Olivia half-opened one dark eye looked at the faces above hers and closed it again.
"Elizabeth is all right?" Georgiana asked.
"The doctor said she'd be fine. She's just- She's, uh…"
"Mrs. Reynolds!" Suddenly they heard agitated voice of the doctor. "We need you here, NOW!"
Mr. Darcy gave the baby to nursemaid and grabbed the bedroom doorknob frantically. There was too much red. It was everywhere. On the towels on the floor, on the doctor's hands, and on the bed sheets.
"What are you doing to her?" he demanded as his stomach clenched and his throat tightened.
"She's haemorrhaging," the doctor responded, kneading Elizabeth's abdomen. "Raise the foot of the bed. Now!"
Darcy turned, ordering Georgiana to help him. Mrs. Reynolds rushed downstairs but Georgiana just stood in the doorway, staring at Elizabeth. The colour drained from her face and her lips moved wordlessly.
"Georgie," Darcy said sharply. "Listen to me. When I lift the foot off the bed, slide a stack of books underneath it." Darcy squatted, getting a good grip. "Georgie, she's not Anne. Come here and help me now. Hurry."
Georgiana shook her head frantically.
"She's bleeding, Georgiana. Get over here and help me!"
His sister turned and ran while a maid grabbed a few books and slid them into place.
Mrs. Reynolds returned with a bucket of snow and more towels. She dumped the snow onto one towel, folded it into a cold compress and placed it on Elizabeth's abdomen.
"It will shrink the womb," she explained as Darcy stood beside the bed, watching helpless
ly. He saw Elizabeth's chest fall as she exhaled but it didn't rise again. He waited, holding his own breath, but she didn't move.
And his world slowed.
The doctor pressed another towel between her legs to slow the bleeding but Darcy could see the blood seeping from the centre to the edges as it saturated.
"Don't go," he pleaded, the tears beginning to forming in the corners of his eyes. "Please. Don't leave us. Don't leave me. Please." he repeated. "Please. I love you. You are my life. Elizabeth, my love."
The doctor slapped Elizabeth's cheek hard, trying to get the body to breathe.
"Just a little longer," Darcy begged desperately. "Please. I love you. What will I do without you?"
"Stop jabbering and hold this, Fitzwilliam!" Mrs. Reynolds ordered, and he looked down, putting his hand on the cold compress on Elizabeth's abdomen. "I'm getting the baby. Nursing the baby may help."
The doctor snapped that nursing a baby was a disgusting idea and Mrs. Reynolds argued that it wasn't disgusting if it kept her from bleeding to death. Darcy opened his mouth, trying to string his thoughts together to register an opinion but felt his hand on Elizabeth's abdomen move as she took a breath.
"Breathe, Elizabeth," Darcy ordered. "Stay with me, my love. Breathe, my life," Darcy commanded again and again, and her chest rose a second time. And a third. And, as the world returned to normal speed, a fourth. Her lips were blue, her face grey, and she shivered violently, but she kept breathing.
Chapter 9
“Love rules the court,
The camp, the grove,
And men below,
And the saints above,
For love is heaven,
And heaven is love.”
- Walter Scott
As he walked inside the room, Darcy could hear muffled sobs from the distance. Georgiana was huddled in the corner, shivering and desperately trying to catch her breath. He wrapped the blanket around his sister's shoulders and rubbed her back but as he moved forward, the girl shrank away.
"Is. She. Dead?" Georgiana asked between gasps.
Mr Darcy's Second Chance Page 18
