My Dearest Mr. Darcy: An Amazing Journey into Love Everlasting tds-3

by Sharon Lathan

  Meanwhile, Lizzy's latest contraction ebbed with her husband by her side. He gazed intently at her face, smoothing over her brow as they simultaneously released the final breath. Lizzy chuckled lowly. “I appreciate the empathetic reactions, but you do not need to breathe with me each time. I fear you may faint!”

  He shook his head, serious and troubled. “It is unconscious, for the most part, but I find it helps.” He traced fingertips over her features, pausing on her lips, “Elizabeth, I am so proud of you already. You are so brave and in control whereas I am near to collapsing in a heap. I abhor seeing you in pain, even for the cause of bringing our child into the world. I feel helpless.”

  She pulled his head onto her breast, caressing through his hair and kissing his wrinkled forehead. “You are my rock, Fitzwilliam. I could not manage this without you. In fact, this morning, when my pains began, it was all I could do to not wake you! I love you and need you by my side. I was so selfishly happy when you woke up.”

  “Which is why I cannot leave you now,” he stated firmly.

  “Yet you will, because I will insist. Shhhh…” She pressed two fingers onto his parted lips, Darcy having lifted from her chest with a ready protest. “You will do this for me, to ease my mind. Write to Jane, bathe, eat, allow Georgiana to calm you, and return to me renewed. Then you can help me walk a bit. I am feeling cramped and edgy. The last few pains have hurt a bit more, but primarily I am thirsty and need to stretch.”

  Darcy assisted her rising, lending both arms to aid her waddling gait into the sitting room.

  “Mrs. Darcy, I brought cold juice as well as hot tea. There is food if you feel able, although Dr. Darcy suggests consuming cautiously to stave off nausea.” Mrs. Reynolds prattled on as she fluffed several pillows on the chaise, Darcy assisting his wife to sit comfortably while George poured a tall glass of juice.

  Lizzy drank the entire glass in practically one swallow. Mrs. Reynolds busied herself preparing a cup of tea and small plate of sliced fruit, Darcy suddenly acutely aware of his attire. The housekeeper had certainly seen her Master in casual garb on numerous occasions, but the addition of another body into the room made him keenly aware of the number of people that would be shuffling through before the day was over. The idea of wearing full formal dress was unappealing, but staying clothed in merely a robe was untenable. On top of that revelation was the hollow emptiness in his stomach starkly awoken by the array of food on the table. All at once the thought of coffee was an immeasurable craving.

  He glanced back at Lizzy, who was observing him with a tiny smile. “Go eat, but kiss me first.”

  He bent obediently and complied, softly and with reverence, brushing knuckles over her cheeks as he tasted the apples on her lips and tongue. “I love you, Mrs. Darcy, with all my soul. I will return quickly.”

  The respite was beneficial for both of them. Darcy wrote the note for the Bingleys, sending a groom to Hasberry posthaste. His plan was to then wash quickly, but Samuel had a bath drawn and the sight was far too inviting to resist. He bathed thoroughly, unable to avoid closing his eyes for a spell and allowing the soothing water to ease his tension. Not for long, however; the desire for coffee and food was almost as strong as the desire to return to his wife. Samuel, wisely and surprisingly, had chosen his Master's most comfortable clothes: breeches of soft wool, thin hose and house shoes, lightweight linen shirt, thin waistcoat, and summer jacket. All were quite inappropriate for this time of year yet somehow even the inexperienced valet knew his Master would be sweating before the day was over. A cravat was not offered nor would have been worn.

  Resisting the urge to check on Lizzy one last time before descending, Darcy entered the dining room just as Georgiana was dishing up her breakfast. She glanced up with a smile, then eyes widened at the sight of her brother rather than her uncle as suspected.

  “William! What are you doing here? It is not Sunday. And where is Elizabeth?”

  “At the moment she is being attended by our Uncle George. She is going to have our baby today, Georgie!” All pretense at placid indifference vanished, Georgiana nearly dropping her plate in surprise. Darcy was grinning broadly, all the pent-up anxiety momentarily displaced by giddy happiness at his pending fatherhood.

  “Oh William, truly? How marvelous! Is Elizabeth well?”

  “So far, yes. It is early yet and I need to eat quickly to return to her side. This coffee smells divine! You know, my wife and our uncle forced me from the room. I was ill pleased at the notion, but now that I am here I comprehend the veracity. I am starving.”

  They sat together at one lonely end of the vast table, Darcy attacking his food with relish after a mouth-scorching gulp of coffee.

  “Be cautious, Fitzwilliam, or you will choke yourself!” Georgiana scolded with a laugh.

  “You sound just like Mother. I think she despaired of ever teaching me proper table manners.”

  “Well, if your son grows as rapidly as you did, I can imagine Lizzy suffering the identical despair. Father said you grew an inch each day.”

  “Not quite accurate, but close. Pass the salt shaker please. I must hurry, however, as I do not wish to miss anything of import.”

  “What is the typical scenario?” Darcy glanced at his sister sharply. “Yes, I know I avoided all birth-related conversations, but now I regret it. My sister is enduring a life-altering travail and I do not know what is to occur. Quite remiss of me.” She spoke the last with a tone of guilt, looking down at her plate.

  Darcy patted her hand, swallowing before he responded. “Do not fret so, my sweet. Elizabeth would not wish it. All you need know is that the pains will increase exponentially as the baby nears his arrival. I have been versed on the procedure a dozen times and have seen more animals birth than I can recollect, yet I am still unsure of precisely what to expect. You can visit with her if you wish. I know she would appreciate it, but understand that she will be interrupting conversation for frequent pains.”

  “How frequent?” she asked, face pale and eyes round in awe.

  “They are occurring every five minutes or so now, but will grow closer.”

  “Oh my! How exhausting that must be. Are you sure she would care to see me?”

  “Of course! Jane will be here soon, so you should spend some time with her before.”

  “How long will it all take?”

  “No way to be sure. Uncle says first births can take up to a day and a half.” Georgiana gasped, hand instinctively moving to cover her mouth. “Exactly. Let us pray to God that is not the case here. I honestly do not think I could tolerate seeing my wife in pain for that long.”

  “You can tolerate anything, William.” Georgiana stated decisively. “You are the strongest man alive.”

  Darcy laughed loudly, tears springing to his eyes in mirth. “Your faith touches me, dear sister. Now I have a double challenge to live up to!”

  Georgiana waited outside the Darcys' sitting room while her brother entered to see how his wife fared. Lizzy stood by the window, a bit hunched over and leaning into the wall with one hand tightly gripping the curtain. George sat nearby, watching her closely as he rattled on about a camel race across the desert, Lizzy clearly not listening attentively. Darcy crossed swiftly, encircling her waist as the contraction eased, Lizzy gratefully falling against the sturdy warmth of his chest.

  He kissed her brow murmuring unnecessarily, “I am back, beloved. Georgie is outside if you feel up to visiting.”

  “Yes, that would be lovely. Help me sit first. I have stood long enough. How was your breakfast? Did you eat enough?”

  “I am perfect. Just missing you. Uncle, any changes?”

  “The contractions are steady. I have ordered Marguerite to prepare a bath as the warm water is relaxing to stressed muscles and often helps speed things along. If nothing else it is good for the psyche to be clean and refreshed, eh, William?”

  “Very well, Uncle, you were right and I was wrong. Happy now?”

  “Blissfully!” He grinned
, rising and stretching with joints cracking. He left for a moment to speak with Georgiana, Darcy arranging Lizzy carefully on the chaise with a blanket over her legs.

  “Did you eat something as well? You need to keep up your strength.”

  “A few bites of fruit in addition to the juice and two cups of raspberry tea. My doctor insisted, although now I feel a wee bit bloated. He definitely is correct about eating anything else. The very thought makes me ill. I do wish our son would hurry along. Perhaps his hesitancy to show himself is a sign that he possesses your reserved nature.”

  Darcy chuckled, kissing her lightly on the lips. “As long as he possesses some of your spunk and humor I shall be content.”

  Lizzy's fair disposition remained throughout the morning as she visited with Georgiana. The pains were unrelenting at nearly perfect five-minute intervals, allowing just enough time to rest and catch her breath and converse lightly. Occasional contractions were stronger, leaving Lizzy winded and with a hint of what was yet to come. Each time such a pain occurred she was torn between fear at the inevitability of what birthing her child would fully entail and hopeful excitement that finally the prodromal labor was at an end. The necessary but lengthy buildup as her womb gradually prepared to evict the baby was wearing, especially since Lizzy's natural disposition was not inclined for patience.

  A prolonged soak in a hot tub with wonderful husband soaping and kneading aching back muscles was heavenly. Lizzy did feel revitalized and although the contractions persevered, the soothing water and massaging aided overall aches and pains.

  George hovered nearby throughout, reading and eating the steady flow of victuals provided by the anxious kitchen staff. Mrs. Henderson was notified and arrived to assist Mrs. Hanford in preparing the nursery and Lizzy's heretofore unused chambers for the birth. Stacks of blankets and towels were brought in; the fire was laid and kept raging with several linens positioned alongside to readily wrap around a newborn babe; water was boiled by the pot full with buckets within reach for a hasty carry to the top floor; rags were freshly ripped for cleaning and binding; Dr. Darcy's instruments were carefully arranged on a small linen-draped table and covered while they waited; medications and herbal teas were mixed to be consumed as deemed necessary by the medical professionals; and the bed was warmed and protected from the mess to come.

  Dr. Darcy's first extensive exam transpired after Lizzy's bath, her labor steady for roughly eleven hours. Darcy guided her to the smaller bed in the newly decorated bedchamber, settling her comfortably on the cozily warmed sheets, and nestling beside with her hands tightly clasped in his. His jacket had been discarded in Lizzy's bathing area, shirt sleeves rolled up past the elbows, and scattered damp patches drying rapidly in the heated atmosphere. The knowledge he possessed and experience gleaned from animal births lent a fair idea of what the internal exam of his wife involved; the mixture of anticipation at what the findings may be and embarrassment with the thought of observing such an intimate procedure warred for mastery in his gut, leaving him tense and lightheaded.

  George was at his most professional, all jesting aside as he calmly spoke in his soothingly resonant voice, masterfully easing the tension in both patient and father-to-be. The exam was gentle and speedy.

  “Good news. You are about halfway opened, my dear, and your womb is responding to the contractions as it should.”

  “How much longer, Uncle?” Darcy asked.

  “It is still impossible to guess with any certainty. First babies can be quite stubborn.”

  “Is he tolerating the stress well? I have not felt him move in a dreadfully long time.”

  George smiled, running one hand over her abdomen. “Babies do not move during the labor process, my dear, so do not fret. All seems to be well, as far as I can determine.” None of them voiced the obvious fact that there was absolutely no method of establishing what was transpiring internally. “Here is my suggestion. I can attempt to rupture your water sac, Elizabeth, but I would rather nature rule. Walking often helps. William, Pemberley's halls afford the perfect setting for your wife to receive some exercise as long as she can bear it. Niece, do not overextend and allow William to be your support, but stroll as vigorously as you can manage.”

  Mrs. Reynolds approached as Darcy led his wife out into the hallway, announcing that the Bingleys had arrived. Jane joined the slowly lumbering duo as they ended their first circuit of the square third-floor corridor. They stood at the southwest corner, breath in synchrony as the latest contraction built, Lizzy releasing soft moans of pain into Darcy's shoulder. His mien was composed, but very pale with flickers of anguish in his light blue eyes notable even to Jane who could not yet adequately read her inscrutable brother-in-law's face. He saw her over Elizabeth's head, gesturing with one finger.

  Jane drew near, laying her hand lightly on Lizzy's arm. “Jane! I am so glad you have arrived. I was beginning to worry.”

  “A portion of the road was rutted horribly from the recent rains, requiring us to drive slowly. I feared I would be too late. How are you faring, Lizzy?”

  They resumed their casual stroll as Lizzy, with interjections from Darcy, filled Jane in on the day's events. By the completion of the third journey Lizzy was weary, Darcy insisting she return to the room, but Lizzy stubbornly refused, compromising by resting on a corridor settee located near the stairs. She leaned into Jane's side, Darcy kneeling before her knees as another strong contraction overwhelmed.

  “Where is Bingley?” Darcy asked Jane softly.

  “I left him in the parlor with Georgiana. I met Dr. Darcy on the stairs heading that direction.”

  It took a fair amount of persuading, but Darcy finally agreed to leave the sisters alone while he enjoyed a needed respite with Bingley and George. Lizzy and Jane sat in silence as a pain completed its cycle, cleansing breath and shuddering muscles signifying the end. Lizzy sighed, leaning her head back onto the wall. “Is it so horrible, Lizzy?”

  “It is not particularly enjoyable! I so want to hold my baby, Jane. It is all I can think of and that somehow helps to persevere through the pain. Mostly I am just tired. I have been awake since early morning and the pain erodes my strength. I do not know what I would do without William.”

  They spoke quietly, Jane lending her brand of serene support to the interminable travail. They spoke of inconsequential matters for the most part, the random converse perfect in distracting Lizzy's mind from the pain and fear of what was yet to come. Learning that her beloved older sister's expected pregnancy was now confirmed was a wonderful piece of joyous news. Even a particularly strong contraction did not dampen Lizzy's jubilant response. The idea of their firstborns being so close in age and physically near each other as they grew was cause for intense delight.

  “Heavens, my back aches! I swear he is pinching every nerve in my lower spine.” Lizzy arched, hands rubbing the spasms to her lower back, squirming as another contraction struck. “Oooh! This one is… harder and…”

  “Breathe, Lizzy. Squeeze my hand and breathe.” Jane grasped her sister's hand, gradual control attained and held for a minute as she concentrated on steady respirations, only to be lost abruptly as a gush of warm fluid flooded from between her legs.

  Lizzy jerked in surprise, a sharp pain radiating from low in her abdomen. She gasped and released a small squeal, hands instinctively clutching her belly as she shouted, “William!”

  Barely a heartbeat later Darcy was bounding crazily up the stairs, Dr. Darcy on his heels, both men instantly assessing the situation without pausing a step. Lizzy was lifted into her husband's arms, long purposeful strides carrying her to the bedchamber. His mien was grim: eyes tight with fear, jaw clenched, and lips pressed harshly together. Lizzy was panting and whimpering slightly at the pain gripping her belly, arms cinched over Darcy's shoulders.

  George sprinted ahead, gesturing sharply at Mrs. Henderson and Mrs. Hanford. “The birth sac has ruptured,” he declared smartly. “A warm towel, Mrs. Henderson. Mrs. Hanford, ask Marguerite for a
clean gown for Mrs. Darcy. William, lay her on the bed. Elizabeth dear, try to relax and breathe. The pains will intensify now; it is normal to do so. Thank you, Mrs. Henderson.” He took the towel and gently wiped her legs as he slowly lifted the saturated gown, continuing his calmly vocalized explanations. “Rest on your husband, Elizabeth, close your eyes and breathe as he is. This is to be expected and a positive development. It means your baby is nearing his arrival. Very good, dear. It is ebbing, yes? Excellent.”

  He pressed one hand onto her softening abdomen, the other unhurriedly toweling up her inner thighs while casually nudging her legs apart. “Allow me to ascertain what changes have occurred, if any. There's a good girl, lean on William and take your ease.” He scrutinized and palpated carefully, assuring nothing had exuded other than clear water.

  The pain had disappeared, leaving Lizzy trembling from the surprise. Now that it was over she felt rather foolish for losing control and yelling. She could readily sense Darcy's tension in the rigid muscles of his chest and arms as they surrounded her, and the raspy respirations echoing in her ear. Additionally she could feel the cooling wetness soaked into his vest and shirt from where he had held her. She peered up into his strained face, Darcy's eyes riveted on his uncle, reaching fingers to a pinched cheek.

  “William,” she whispered. “Forgive me for frightening you. I should not have shouted.”

  “Do not say that!” he snapped. “I want you to call when you need me! If you did not, I would be seriously vexed.” He kissed the top of her head rather perfunctorily, attention again centered on his uncle as he asked tautly, “Is all well, Uncle?”