My Dearest Mr. Darcy: An Amazing Journey Into Love Everlasting (52 page)

"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?"

"You have opened a bit more, Elizabeth, and the baby is lower. The contractions will come quicker now and be stronger. You will need to stay in bed, but can move about however you wish, lying to the right side often the most comfortable. William, erase your frown before it permanently creases your face and assist your wife into a dry gown." George rose, crossing to the midwife and nanny for a quiet conference.

"Here, Lizzy, lift up and we will remove this wet gown," Jane spoke softly, voice as serene as always cutting through Darcy's coursing panic. He inhaled deeply, eyes closing briefly for a silent prayer before aiding Jane in dressing his wife. In seconds they had Lizzy settled comfortably, propped on several pillows and Darcy's torso, Jane departing to speak with Mrs. Reynolds regarding a fresh juice order.

"Beloved, you should change into dry clothing," Lizzy murmured. Another pain, far more intense than anything previous, had faded. She trembled slightly, faint and incredibly tired as she melted into Darcy's stalwart embrace, fingers laced with his and lying on the top of her swollen abdomen.

"It is insignificant. I will not leave you again, so do not ask." His grip tightened and he pressed his cheek into her hair. "I love you, my dearest wife. Are you certain you are comfortable?"

"As much as is possible," she laughed faintly, closing her eyes in an attempt to doze even if only for a second. "Comfortable" in any definition of the word became impossible as the subsequent hours unfolded. The contractions lengthened in both duration and intensity coupled with an increased frequency, which meant less time for her to recover in between. Those precious minutes were hastily consumed with ragged breathing and searing back pain. Somewhere in the midst she was incessantly plied with sips of water and cubes of sugar to keep up her strength.

Through it all Jane maintained her post to Lizzy's right side. Her placid strength, tranquil tone of speech, and gentle persuasion calmed Lizzy greatly. Since childhood Jane had been the steadying, rational voice amid Lizzy's ofttimes chaotic, impetuous nature. So it was now as Jane stroked her hand and forehead, murmuring pacifying sentences, relating memories of peaceful moments and places from their youth all designed to distract and soothe. It was successful to varying degrees as the afternoon waned into early evening.

Darcy kept his vigil to his wife's left side. Where Jane was the temperate tranquilizer, Darcy was the stabilizing stone. At times it was purely physical: his sturdy physique and capable hands essential for support and penetrating kneading to aching or cramping muscles. Other times it was his manly voice with resonant tones as he spoke of his love and pride, his soft lips brushing over her temples and knuckles, his fiercely kind eyes as he gazed with bottomless wells of adoration and encouragement. He seemed to instinctively know what she required at any given moment. If it was tenderness, then his voice and touch softened, stroking soothingly. If it was focus, then his voice deepened into the familiar ring of the Master of Pemberley, commanding her to concentrate and breathe.

"I cannot do it! Please make it stop!" Lizzy gripped his hand during one such incident, the spasms burning through the middle of her body in a fury. Her eyes were tightly shut, sweat beading on her brow, and head tossing to and fro while she whimpered.

Darcy grasped her cheeks in hands of iron, face inches from hers, voice low and resolute, "Elizabeth, look at me! You
can
do this and you
will!
Now, focus on me and breathe. Inhale deep, that is it, now exhale, good, and again. No! Open your eyes! Focus on me! It will pass. Breathe again and one more is gone, all the nearer to seeing our son. Excellent! I am so proud of you, Elizabeth." And the litany would continue with kisses and caresses until the next pain.

None in the room sensed the internal struggle Darcy endured. A juvenile but persistent part of his soul wanted to scream in frustration, to rage against the impotence of a situation where the generally authoritative man of power was at the mercy of forces beyond his control. A small but very loud voice inside his head yelled at him to run, far away to some distant corner of the mansion where he could curl up into a fetal ball and hide from witnessing the agony suffered by the woman he loved more than life. Yet with typical, well-honed Darcy steel and discipline, he squelched those inner urges, recognizing them as childish and demeaning. Primarily he understood that despite his dismay at watching Elizabeth in her travail, there was in truth nowhere on earth he would rather be. As awful as it was at times, he knew he was providing a necessary service to his wife and partaking in a miracle. Always central in his mind's eye was the image of their baby, conceived in tremendous love, who would make his, or her, appearance to the world in due course. The thought of missing that advent was intolerable.

Dr. Darcy and Mrs. Henderson sat across the room, silent for the most part as they observed the unrelenting process transpiring on the bed. On occasion George would rise to assess Lizzy's progress, declaring with satisfaction that all was proceeding as expected. His dry humor, usually rather biting and sarcastic, was gentle with the perfect blend of wittiness and sensitive timing to ease the building strain. Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Hanford sat near the fire, keeping it blazing and rotating the waiting towels and linens. The housekeeper quietly communicated with Marguerite and Samuel, who loitered outside the room awaiting instructions for hot water or other supplies, and relayed information to Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley. In fact, the entire household collectively sat on tenterhooks, no real work being accomplished as they awaited the news that all was well with their Mistress.

As dusk fell over the landscape, lamps lit and fires built, Lizzy successfully made the transition into the final stages of the birth process. Like all women down through the long ages since Eve, Lizzy instinctively sensed the subtle alteration in the contractions accompanied by an intense pressure felt low in her pelvis. Primarily it was an indescribable, uncontrollable urge to forcefully expel the cause of all her agony. It overwhelmed her reason, breathing no longer a viable option as the burning to her groin intensified torrentially; the heaviness demanding she hold her breath and bear down.

This she did, surprising her two companions who attempted in vain to persuade her to concentrate, but spurring her two childbirth professionals to jump up and lunge toward the bed. Darcy recoiled in shock when George sat efficiently on the end of the bed, spreading Lizzy's legs as he lifted the sheet. A quick probe confirmed what he suspected and after a nod to Mrs. Henderson, who turned to Mrs. Reynolds for instructions, he looked to Darcy with a beaming smile.

"Elizabeth is completely open now. Henceforth begins the real work, all else thus far leading up to this." His fingers were between her legs, carefully palpating as she began to relax into Darcy's waiting embrace. "Elizabeth, look at me. Very good, dear. Now listen carefully. Your baby is very low and ready to be born. You are as open as you can get, making room for his body. Still, as I have discussed with William and he has shared with you, this can take time. The infant still has some distance to travel and you must use the remaining pains to bring him forth. Do you understand so far?"

They both nodded, Darcy wiping his wife's brow and neck with a wet cloth while Lizzy panted. Dr. Darcy resumed, "The contractions will space out a bit, but when they occur you must hold your breath and bear down, hard, with each one. It will hurt, Elizabeth, but you must persevere. Breathe when necessary, but keep pushing toward your derriere until the pain halts."

"How long, Uncle?" Darcy asked in a hoarse voice.

"Let us wait and see how the next few contractions proceed."

A flurry of activity erupted in the room. Fresh buckets of water were brought, George washing his hands and soaking several rags. Additional lamps were lit for illumination.

The Darcys noted none of it. Lizzy reclined on her husband's warm chest, cocking her head to better see his luminous visage. She smiled, raising a hand to stroke his cheek, and Darcy almost fainted with a surge of breathless joy. Never had she been more beautiful to him than at that moment. Her hair was disheveled and loose from its braid, face flushed and slightly puffy, lips dry; yet she exuded a radiant happiness that transcended the particulars.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he whispered, cupping her face. "Thank you for allowing me to be a part of this miracle."

She laughed, eyes twinkling and for the first time in hours responding with the friskiness of his Lizzy apparent. "Well, Mr. Darcy, considering you were an integral part of the inception of the miracle, it is only apropos you are present at its consummation! I would not be in this predicament if not for you and could not survive it without you. Now, do your job and hand me that glass of water." She pursed her lips, blowing a kiss as she patted his smiling mouth with her fingertips, Darcy chuckling in a liberating release of nervousness as he reached for the indicated liquid.

The difficult task of laboring in tandem with forceful muscular spasms intent on expelling a somewhat pliable but bulky body through a physically much smaller space commenced. Neither Darcy wasted the effort at this juncture to marvel at the awesomeness of the operation. Instead, Lizzy embraced with enthusiasm the ability to be proactive for a change. The pain was intense, but at least she was
doing something
rather than lying inert at its mercy. Darcy quite simply could not think beyond the fact that he would lay eyes on his child in a matter of minutes. He was giddy with excitement.