The Darcys of Pemberley Read online

  “Well, what do you think, Darcy? Are you satisfied with what she says by way of an apology?”

  “I cannot make out if it is an apology, Lizzy. She dances all round the question. She ‘regrets,’ she ‘concedes,’ she ‘excuses,’ she ‘consents’ to receive us again, but she never actually apologizes, does she? She never says, ‘I was wrong, and I am sorry for it.’”

  “Would that not be too much to hope for, for such an open confession of guilt? I doubt the woman has ever in her life admitted she was wrong. I am rather surprised she goes as far as she does.”

  “I suppose it is progress that she acknowledges even this much. For myself, I could be content without anything more substantial. But I am not satisfied that she has made any reparation for what she said and did to you.”

  “Please do not worry on my account.”

  “No, no, I must insist on this, Elizabeth. You are too generous; you would forgive her in a moment. This is a matter of principle, however, and I shall not give way. Lady Catherine must repent of her slander and disrespect to you. I will brook nothing less. If she will not speak her contrition, then she must demonstrate it. You are not to go and wait upon her, Elizabeth; Lady Catherine must first come and wait upon you!”

  Mr. Darcy, after careful consideration, decided to send his aunt one further piece of correspondence. He thanked her for her kind invitation to Rosings Park, but said that present circumstances would not allow him to accept. He instead recommended that, should she sincerely wish to restore a state of good family relations, she might have the courtesy to wait upon Mrs. Darcy some afternoon while they were in town. This suggestion was stated in such unequivocal terms as to leave no room to misunderstand his meaning or to doubt his inexorable will in the matter.

  Chapter 14

  Deliverance

  On the morning of the first day of May, Mr. Sanditon, who had come as far as Kympton on business, took the opportunity afforded by his close proximity to call at Pemberley. By this time, the Darcys were on such familiar terms with the gentleman that his visits were taken as a matter of course and always welcomed. He stayed to tea, and then the four friends walked out into the gardens to enjoy the fine day.

  This particular visit was cut short by the arrival of a messenger come on horseback from Heatheridge with the news that Mrs. Bingley’s accouchement had begun. Since Elizabeth had promised to see her sister through the ordeal, this was a call to action. With apologies to Mr. Sanditon, Darcy ordered a chaise and four readied at once. He and Elizabeth then hurried back to the house to prepare for their immediate departure, leaving their guest in Georgiana’s care.

  To Elizabeth, the thirty mile journey seemed interminable. Scarcely could she sit through it with any measure of composure, so desperately did she long to be at Jane’s side. Her mind vacillated between happy anticipation and foreboding when she considered what lay ahead. Having known more than one woman who lost her life in childbed, Elizabeth fervently prayed that her dear sister would not share their fate. Darcy did his best to reassure his wife, but the only effective relief came when they at last arrived at Heatheridge.

  Elizabeth instantly alighted from the carriage and ran up the front steps, outstripping her husband in her impatience. Inside she found an uneasy Mr. Bingley pacing the hall. “How does my sister do?” she asked him anxiously.

  “Elizabeth, Darcy, thank you for coming so promptly. They tell me all is well, but I have not been allowed to see Jane myself. I could not bear to watch her suffer in any case. It greatly relieves my mind that you are here, Elizabeth. She has been asking for you. You must go to her at once … and be sure to give her my love …”

  Leaving her husband to console his friend, Elizabeth hurried upstairs. There she found Jane laboring in earnest, surrounded by female attendants. The throng round the bed – composed of Mrs. Bennet, Kitty, two maids, and the monthly nurse – barely left room to admit another. However, Kitty gave way to her elder sister without hesitation, looking very much relieved to have an excuse to distance herself from the situation.

  Elizabeth quickly drew a chair up to Jane’s side.

  “Oh Lizzy, thank heaven,” Jane cried, grasping her sister’s hand tightly.

  “We came as quickly as we could. Darcy is downstairs with your husband. I bring you love from them both. Now, how are you bearing up?”

  Before Jane could respond, she was seized by another spasm. She gripped Elizabeth’s hand all the tighter.

  “She suffers most cruelly,” Mrs. Bennet answered on Jane’s behalf. “Poor thing. This has been going on for hours now, and you know it may very likely get much worse before it is over. I remember what pain I endured, especially with you, Lizzy. It is as vivid in my mind as if it happened yesterday. I thought I should have died! It became so unbearable that….”

  “Mama!” Elizabeth interrupted, seeing Jane’s increasing distress, “you look tired. These exertions are far too trying for your delicate constitution. You must take some time for repose now that I am come. Go and rest your nerves. I shall carry on here and call if you are needed. Kitty, please take our mother out for some air.”

  Mrs. Bennet protested, but presently was made to see that she must not put her own health at peril by exasperating her nerves any further. She allowed Kitty to escort her from the room.

  Elizabeth returned her full attention to her sister, although she felt at a loss for how to lend any consolation.

  After another long minute, the stricken expression on Jane’s face began to soften, along with the vise grip on her sister’s hand. “Thank you for managing Mama,” she said, panting, when the pain at last subsided. “I know she is trying to be helpful, but….”

  “Say no more of that. You can do the same for me in a few months. I should never be as patient as you are, and I might say something under duress that I would later regret. Now, Jane, tell me what you need from me.”

  “Just stay by my side. I shan’t be half so frightened if you are with me, Lizzy.”

  “I will not leave you for a minute, dearest. I promise.” Then, of the nurse Elizabeth asked, “How can I help my sister? Surely there must be something more I can do.”

  “Not much to be done, ma’am, excepting keepin’ your own self calm and talkin’ to milady kindly. Let ‘er squeeze yer ‘and if she wants when the pangs come.”

  Wave after wave of pain engulfed Jane, each one more powerful and tenacious than the last. Elizabeth rode the successive swells with her, giving what scant comfort she could. Although she carefully maintained a composed exterior for Jane’s sake, her inner distress increased as her sister’s labor intensified. For a long while, Jane stifled her anguish, refusing to let anything above a low moan escape her lips. At length, however, when her attendants at last convinced her to take the satisfaction of crying out, her wailing echoed through the halls of Heatheridge.

  “Won’t be long now,” predicted the nurse, once Jane reported the need to bear down. Yet Jane struggled on for another hour. Finally, with one last, great effort, the child was delivered into the nurse’s waiting arms.

  “It be a little girl, ma’am. Smallish, but she looks ‘ealthy. Let me clean ‘er up a mite and ye can ‘ave a look at ‘er.” The experienced woman set about her business.

  Jane and Elizabeth breathed sighs of deep relief that the ordeal was finally over. Both were exhausted, one from real exertion and the other from empathetic endeavor.

  When her daughter was swaddled and laid in her arms, a look of profound joy overspread Jane’s face, banishing all evidence of the pain so recently displayed there. The infant’s noisy cry testified to her vigor, and it begot smiles and happy tears from her admiring mother and aunt. But their rejoicing was soon cut short by a sudden return of unpleasantness. Jane winced and groaned in pain once more.

  “What is the matter?” Elizabeth asked her.

  “I do not know. The pangs have started again. Is that to be expected?” she questioned the nurse.

  “Often they’ll be afterbirt
h pangs, but let me see …” She examined Jane. “Well, glory be! We got more work to do milady; there’s another’n awaitin’ to get out!”

  “Twins?” Elizabeth exclaimed.

  “Yes ma’am. Only this ‘un looks to be turned wrong way round. Don’t ye fret none, though, Miz Bingley; just leave everythin’ to me. Many’s the babe I’ve introduced to the world backside first.”

  “Perhaps we should send for the doctor,” suggested Elizabeth.

  “No time for that, ma’am.”

  Jane looked as if she could not settle on whether to laugh or cry at the prospect of twins. There was no time to dwell on the question, however. She quickly passed the baby girl to a maid for safekeeping, and steeled herself to continue her travail. With the valiant effort of another half an hour, she produced a fine son to keep her daughter company. Jane then collapsed back against her pillow, too weary and full of emotion to speak.

  The nurse kept watch for any sign of complication and declared the new mother as fit as could be expected after such a trial.

  When Jane was enough recovered to receive her husband, Elizabeth shooed everyone else from the room and went to summon him. She paused at the door, looking back to see the charming picture of maternal contentment her sister made, her serene countenance finally restored and a sleeping baby cradled in each arm. Elizabeth tucked the image away in her mind and went to fetch Mr. Bingley.

  She found him waiting downstairs with the others, his face tight with anxiety. “Have no fear,” she told him at once, laying a hand on his arm. “All is well. You may go up now.” She left to Jane the pleasure of revealing the rest.

  In his excitement, Mr. Bingley took the stairs two at a time and was soon with his wife. Mrs. Bennet would have followed directly after him had Elizabeth not prevented her, insisting that the new parents be allowed some time to themselves.

  “You will see Jane soon enough, Mama. For now you must be content with the knowledge that she is well. It was difficult for her, to be sure, but she has come through without harm.”

  “And what about the baby?” demanded Mrs. Bennet. “Do not keep me in suspense, child. My nerves will not stand for it. Is it healthy? Boy or girl? ”

  Since Mr. Bingley was by then with Jane and had seen his twins, Elizabeth felt at liberty to tell the others the happy facts as well. “Yes and no,” she answered with a laugh.

  “What nonsense is this, Lizzy? Do not torment me so. Answer my questions!” insisted Mrs. Bennet.

  “My apologies. I confess that I am feeling a bit giddy. The answer is yes, everyone is healthy. And no, it is not a boy or a girl; it is a boy and a girl – one of each, Mama. Jane has twins! Is that not wonderful news, Darcy?” she asked, trailing off weakly.

  Darcy caught and supported his wife as she began to sink in prostration. “Yes, excellent news. But now you really must rest, my dear. You have overtaxed yourself.”

  With her responsibility to Jane discharged, Elizabeth acknowledged her own profound fatigue and allowed herself to be conveyed to the sofa. Meanwhile, the shock that had momentarily stunned Mrs. Bennet into silence expired. She launched into rapturous effusions forthwith.

  “Twins! A boy and a girl! My goodness gracious! What a surprise! Is this not delightful, Lizzy? Lord bless me, I can scarce believe it. What will Mr. Bennet say, I wonder, when he finds out? Two grandchildren at once, and another one due in a few months! My friends will all envy me my good fortune, I daresay. I can hardly wait to see the look on my sister Phillips’ face when I tell her. Dear, dear Jane. What a good mother she will make, always so patient and kind. Who should be blessed with many children if not Jane? Oh, I am so happy!”

  Before long, to make her joy complete, Mrs. Bennet was called upstairs to see her grandchildren and Jane. Thither also went Kitty, willing to return now that the unpleasantness was over.

  Elizabeth turned to her husband. “I told you weeks ago that Jane was enormous. Now we know why. Do you not wish to go up and see the new arrivals, my love?”

  “No, no. There will be time enough for that later. No one wants me upstairs now; I had much better stay with you until I know you are well. Your service to your sister is admirable, but I hope it has not been to the detriment of your own health.”

  “I am tired, that is all. And if I am this weary, consider how Jane must feel! I knew childbirth would be difficult, but it was more grueling than I had imagined. I pray I am up to the task when my turn comes.” As if in response to this line of thought, her own infant made its presence known more decidedly than ever before. Elizabeth felt a definite quickening as the new life shifted and wriggled within her. She gasped in surprise and instinctively put her hand to her belly.

  “Is everything all right, Elizabeth? Are you in pain?” Darcy asked, concern clouding his visage.

  “No, not pain. I felt our baby move! A few other times I thought perhaps I had, but now there can be no doubt. Oh, Darcy, I wish you could feel it. It really is quite incredible!” she said with tears welling up in her eyes.

  She took his hand and placed it where the flutter of activity had been a moment before, and they sat quite still for some time. Although Elizabeth could perceive additional stirrings, now that she knew what to watch for, they were of insufficient strength for her husband to discern. Instead, he enjoyed the gratifying alternative of watching his wife’s expressive face, experiencing the thrill vicariously through her.

  Presently, Mr. Bingley returned downstairs, his eyes shimmering and a grin spanning from ear to ear. Mr. Darcy rose to congratulate his friend, pumping his hand enthusiastically and soundly rapping him on the back. “Congratulations on your exceptional good fortune, Charles. You must be very proud!”

  “Thank you, Darcy. On the contrary, though, I feel quite humbled. Why I should be so blessed is a mystery to me, I assure you. I am convinced that I have done nothing to deserve it. My sweet wife, on the other hand, is worthy of every kind of joy.”

  “You will get no argument from me on that last point at least,” said Elizabeth. “I wonder that you can take yourself from your new family so soon, though. I hope it is not on our account that you do.”

  “Not at all. It was just that, when the ladies came in, I could no longer imagine myself needed. They were determined to make a fuss over Jane and the babies, and I thought it best to leave them to it.”

  “Very sensible of you, Bingley. I should have done the same,” said Darcy. “These things are clearly in the purview of women. Men cannot be of much use with infants. Now, once a child is old enough for rational thought, the father can enter in – setting an example, teaching, admonishing, and so forth.”

  “Perhaps, but surely…,” said Mr. Bingley, for once in doubt of the sagacity of his friend’s advice.

  “Please, Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth interjected, “do let my husband continue. This is highly instructive. So, Mr. Darcy, you do not expect to have much interest or occupation with our son or daughter until at least the age of four or five. Do I understand you correctly?”

  “Now, Lizzy, I did not mean exactly that. It is only that men in general – and I am no exception – seem to have very little idea of what to do with an infant. I expect to be most useful and most interested with what will come later, when the child is old enough to follow me about and learn from my knowledge and experience. From a man’s point of view, do not you agree with me, Bingley?”

  “If you had asked me yesterday, I might have done so without scruple, but no longer. After seeing my own son and daughter upstairs just now, my opinion is that those two infants are the most fascinating creatures I have ever encountered. I could hardly take my eyes off of them, Darcy. Perhaps you will be likewise converted when your time comes.”

  The Darcys stayed the night at Heatheridge. As they prepared for bed, Elizabeth revisited the subject. “What interesting ideas you expressed about fatherhood this afternoon, husband. I was quite surprised by them.”

  “Why should you be? I did not relate anything the least bit sho
cking or even out of the common way. As far as I can ascertain, the vast majority of men leave the tending of their small children entirely to the female sex. Even my own excellent father, from what I remember, had little use for me until I was old enough to ride and shoot. He had even less time for my sister. Yet I would never be persuaded that we were neglected or unloved,” Darcy said defensively.

  “No, of course not.” After a pause for reflection, Elizabeth continued in a more playful tone. “It does no good, however, to tell me what ‘common’ men, or even ‘most’ men consider normal and reasonable practice, because I could never think of you in those terms. I hold you to a higher standard. I have long since learnt that everything about you, Mr. Darcy, is entirely exceptional,” she said, running an appreciative hand and lingering eye over some of his especially fine attributes.

  This having the desired effect, he gathered her into his arms. “You have the most charming way, Mrs. Darcy, of transforming any discordance between us into an invitation to something infinitely more agreeable. The result is that I can never seem to remember what we quarreled about.”

  “It is terribly clever of me, you must admit. I wonder if I am the first woman to discover this secret to total harmony in marriage.”

  As her outstanding husband proceeded to accept her invitation, Elizabeth was momentarily diverted by the thought that, despite apparent indifference toward their own infants, men seem to have no lack of interest in the activity that leads to their existence.

  Chapter 15

  Making for London

  Next morning, Elizabeth’s first thought was for her sister. She threw on her dressing gown and slipped down the hall to look in on Jane, to satisfy herself that no serious ill effects had resulted from the ordeal of the previous day. To her supreme relief, she found Jane in the bloom of health – good color, no hint of fever, and appetite intact.