Christmas at Pemberley (19 page)

She kept an eye on Mrs. Joseph's restless slumber. Elizabeth didn't remember her sister Jane having such a fretful time, and Jane had carried twins.Yet, Mrs. Joseph was quite large, and Elizabeth supposed it affected the woman's sleep.

Having sent Darcy and Mr. Joseph away so Mary could rest, Elizabeth had spent some time reading a collection of poetry she'd bought at a small bookstore in Newcastle. Now, she returned to the stack of letters. The other evening she hadn't read the two that Darcy had composed upon the loss of their children, but today, she felt compelled to revisit them. She'd acknowledged her pregnancy to Darcy. Obviously, her husband knew of her condition, but he'd accepted Elizabeth's fears and made them his own. Somehow, Mrs. Joseph's appearance at Prestwick's had changed everything. As nonsensical as it sounded, Elizabeth no longer dreaded what might happen. If she lost this child, she would try again and again until she delivered a healthy Darcy heir. She possessed no other alternative:
Because of Darcy, she could smile; her life was worthwhile, and she owed him her constant devotion.

First checking Mrs. Joseph's blankets, Elizabeth settled in a chair near the window. Outside, she could hear the water's steady drip from the roof to the ground. The rhythmic pattern made her think of the Maelzel's metronome model, which sat on Georgiana's pianoforte. Hopefully, by tomorrow, she and Darcy would be on their way to Pemberley.

Untying the ribbon, Elizabeth removed the two letters on the bottom. She normally kept the notes in order by the date Darcy had written them, but she had shuffled these two special letters to the stack's bottom when she had read from the missives two nights prior.

She removed the one her husband had composed after the first disaster and unfolded the pages. Shifting her weight so she might see better, Elizabeth read…

Her poor husband had suffered as much as she; but for her sake, Darcy had hidden his misery. Elizabeth had seen the lines deepen
around his eyes and across his forehead. Had Darcy shed tears? She was certain that he had. Elizabeth knew his anguish—how the sunshine had disappeared from his smile.

Carefully, she refolded the first letter and replaced it where the note belonged within the bundle and then removed the second one. It held more tender memories than did the first. She had grieved briefly after the initial incident, but hadn't felt the full loss until the second. Actually, Elizabeth prefaced that. She had experienced the total impact when her sister Jane cradled a small babe in each arm. Her most beloved sister had delivered twins when she could not give Darcy even one child. She had thought herself a failure and had refused to go through that emptiness again.

Elizabeth shot a glance at the resting Mary Joseph. The woman's face betrayed the essence of her dreams—as if an angel had kissed the woman's cheek.
Allow me to reach eight full months
, she thought.
Even with my own imminent mortality
, she prayed,
give Mr. Darcy his child
.

Unfolding the letter she read her favorite part first.

“What do you read, Mrs. Darcy?” a sleepy voice broke through Elizabeth's thoughts.

Elizabeth blushed and refolded the letter. “Nothing important. Only some letters.”

With difficulty, Mrs. Joseph rolled onto her side, “From Mr. Darcy, I suspect,” she said teasingly.

Elizabeth's color deepened. “I shall admit to nothing except that they came from a most handsome gentleman.”

Mrs. Joseph smiled indulgently. “Mr. Darcy then. He's an intriguing-looking man. Was your husband the most exciting man of your acquaintance, Mrs. Darcy?”

Elizabeth thought immediately of her first impression of George Wickham, whose appearance was greatly in his favor; he had all the best parts of beauty—a fine countenance, a good figure, and a pleasing address. “A pleasing face doesn't define a man's true character, but I admit to preferring Mr. Darcy's countenance above all others.” Elizabeth scrambled to her feet. “Let me put these away, and I'll help you to straighten your dress. Perhaps we could go below and join our husbands for tea.”

Elizabeth dutifully replaced the letter and retied the outside ribbon. Then she carefully placed the bundle in the bottom of her portmanteau. “Now,” she moved to the bed, “allow me to support your stance.You really must exercise more caution, Mrs. Joseph.You have God's most priceless gift to attend.”

The woman swung her legs over the bed's edge and sat with Elizabeth's assistance. “I don't understand it,” she observed. “When we departed Stoke-upon-Trent, I was quite a bit smaller. I feel as if I've gained weight each day we were on the road. I imagine myself quite heavy.” She gently massaged her enlarged abdomen.

“Women, generally, gain their most weight during the last six weeks of their gestation,” Elizabeth said absentmindedly as she braced Mrs. Joseph's weight with her own.

Taking several deep breaths, the lady rose slowly. “And how would a gentlewoman know such details?” Mrs. Joseph lightly taunted.

“This gentlewoman's sister's weight doubled with her confinement.”

Mrs. Joseph countered, “Maybe that was because your sister delivered twins.”

Elizabeth laughed lightly. “There's that possibility.” She stepped away from the woman. “I sent Mr. Joseph and Mr. Darcy away so you might rest.” She checked her own appearance in the mirror.

Mrs. Joseph shook out her skirts. “How long did I sleep?”

Elizabeth glanced at the small clock on the mantelpiece. “Nearly two hours.”

“Two hours!” Mrs. Joseph gasped. “I never sleep so long.”

“Your body must have needed the rest,” Elizabeth asserted.

Mrs. Joseph began to repair her chignon. “Mr. Joseph must be terribly worried. We definitely should join the gentlemen, or Matthew will storm the door shortly.” She pinched her cheeks. “I look so pale.” She straightened her shoulders and turned to Elizabeth. “And don't tell me being pale is part of being with child,” she warned.

Elizabeth smiled widely. “I shan't speak of it as you know the obvious.” She reached for the door, but a grunt of discomfort from behind her brought Elizabeth up short.As she pivoted to the sound, Mrs. Joseph's grimace spoke Elizabeth's worst nightmares. “What is it?” she demanded as she rushed to the woman's side.

Mrs. Joseph swayed in place. Complete fear crossed her countenance. “I…I,” she stammered. Then she raised her skirt's hem, and Elizabeth could see the woman's underskirt's dampness.

“Oh, my, you poor dear,” Elizabeth sympathized. “Let's get you out of those soiled garments. I'll order some warm water so you might wash, and we'll soak the items afterwards.” Elizabeth guided Mrs. Joseph to a plain wooden chair. “I should have considered your personal needs.” Elizabeth flushed with embarrassment.

Mrs. Joseph sank heavily to the chair. “No!” she rasped. “You don't understand.The baby…the baby's coming.”

“OF WHAT DO YOU GENTLEMEN SPEAK, Colonel?” Lady Catherine demanded from her end of the table. “What are you telling my niece? Let me hear what it is.”

Edward looked up with a frown. “Actually, it's Georgiana who holds court, Aunt. My girl has amazed us with her knowledge.” He smiled with delight.

“Miss Darcy was explaining the investments Mr. Darcy has made in her name,” Mr. Bingley added.

Lady Catherine's eyebrow rose sharply. “I would think, Georgiana, that a lady would allow her guardian to oversee such issues. It's not in a lady's realm to involve herself in wealth's creation.”

Edward smiled obligingly, but his tone spoke another language. “You are quite adept in the business world, Aunt.”

“I've had no other recourse, Colonel,” she said in a snit. “Sir Lewis's passing designed for me a role I never desired. It was why I sought your counsel and Darcy's.”

“I meant no offense,Your Ladyship,” he said contritely. “But I'll not hear of Georgiana being criticized for having an interest in her own future. The world is changing, Lady Catherine, and I admire my cousin for her initiative.”

Georgiana glowed with his praise. “It's Fitzwilliam's doing. My brother insists that I be aware of my fortune. He's set part of it aside—separate from my dowry.”

“It's very prudent of Fitz,” Edward observed. “Your settlement shouldn't be your only means of support. Unfortunately, even some
gentlemen with titles are unscrupulous in the handling of their family wealth.”

Southland remarked, “You have our attention, Miss Darcy. Would you share your thoughts with the entire table?”

Mr. Bennet encouraged, “We could all benefit from Mr. Darcy's insights. Despite enjoying Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Bingley's thorough discussion of Mary's trousseau, I would attend to news of investments. Perhaps the rest of us could consider following my son's advice.”

Georgiana pinked, but she launched into her explanation. “Fitzwilliam is most concerned with the men's migration from estates to the cities, but rather than bemoan his losses, my brother has embraced the changes. He has sought out ways to make the lives of those who remain more profitable, and he has followed our father's example and invested in textile manufacturing, purified coals, construction of improved roads and man-made waterways, as well as steam-powered engines.”

“Advancements such as what Mr. Manneville described to me earlier—the one you use for cotton,” Caroline interjected.

“Yes, Miss Bingley,” Manneville answered. “The cotton gin. It's revolutionized how we process the cotton plants.”

Georgiana rejoined the conversation. “When I was a child, my father invested in James Watt's steam engines. Papa had holdings in Scotland and became aware of Mr. Watt's improvements in coal mining. I'm proud to say my father was one of the first to become interested in a steam engine's use in hauling supplies. He supported Richard Trevithick's efforts. I suppose it was from him that my brother developed his own connections.”

“So, Darcy's invested in this proposed railway system?” Lady Catherine said skeptically.

Georgiana ignored her aunt's censure. Her own enthusiasm bubbled. “He has, Your Ladyship, and the outlay is proving true. Earlier this year, Mr. George Stephenson built the
Locomotion
for the Stockton and Darlington Railway Line.”

Bingley confirmed Georgiana's disclosure. “I saw Stephenson's early efforts at the Killingworth Colliery near Durham. I shan't bore the ladies with the design details, but the July demonstration had the engine pulling eight loaded wagons.”

“How much weight?” Southland asked with interest.