“Never,” she promised with absolute finality. “I shall live a long, healthy life and bear you ten children, tormenting you daily with my impudence.”
Darcy laughed as he hugged her tighter.
Elizabeth smiled and placed a kiss upon his cheek. “Come,” she said. “It has been a long day, and I believe we are both in dire need of rest, my love. Let us retire and think no more of this.”
Many hours later, Darcy lay awake, unable to find repose, but, miraculously, not due to any tormenting thoughts that might have plagued him earlier. Elizabeth had been tossing in their bed for more than two hours, attempting to find a position she could abide for longer than ten minutes. The air had grown quite hot and uncharacteristically oppressive for Derbyshire, even for August, and Darcy longed to bring her some relief, though he hardly knew how. Finally, Elizabeth sat up and dropped her head into her hands. “I feel as though I will never again sleep longer than two hours altogether. I am so hot and uncomfortable, Fitzwilliam,” she whined.
Darcy sat up, as well, and rubbed her lower back. He hoped the circular motion might soothe her. “I am sorry, my love,” he said as he placed a kiss upon her exposed shoulder, where he then rested his chin. “I wish there was anything I could do to make you feel better. You know I would gladly take on your discomfort myself if it meant you would be easy. Perhaps a cool bath would do much to ease your suffering? Shall I ask Sonia to draw one for you?”
“No, it is now nearly three o’clock in the morning. Certainly, Sonia is asleep, and I would not wish to wake her, but,” Elizabeth said with a sly smile, “I do believe a swim in the lake would feel heavenly right now.” She threw off the tangled sheets with much enthusiasm, reached for her discarded shift and dressing gown, and then slid rather awkwardly from the bed.
Darcy leapt after her, and his concern for her safety returned in full force. “Elizabeth, certainly not. You shall be seen, and it could be dangerous. Do you not recall anything of our conversation? You are now heavy with child and should not be exerting yourself thus.”
“Nonsense. No one is about at this hour, and I hardly think you would allow me to go alone, in any case. The cool water shall bring me some relief, I am sure of it.” She patted her bulging stomach and grinned. “If anything, I shall be more buoyant with this ample body of mine. Indeed, I am convinced it is perfectly safe.”
Clearly unconvinced, but unwilling to argue with her, Darcy sighed. “Can I not persuade you to see reason?” he asked as Elizabeth fastened the belt of her dressing gown and busied herself by retrieving several towels from the edge of Darcy’s large copper tub.
“None whatsoever.” She smiled then arched her brow and extended her hand to him. “Come, Fitzwilliam. I suggest you make haste and dress yourself, sir. The lady of the lake beckons, and you know it is abominably rude to keep a lady waiting.”
Chapter 34
With the coming of September, so came Mrs. Bennet to Derbyshire for an extended stay under her son-in-law’s expansive roof. Much to the consternation of Pemberley’s master and mistress, Elizabeth’s mother was determined to be present for the birth of her first grandchild, whose impending arrival she did not expect until the following month. Having anticipated their wedding vows by more than a fortnight, however—and convinced their unborn child had been conceived during one of the amorous interludes preceding their marriage—Darcy and Elizabeth had decided to allow the world to believe the birth a premature one. Early births were not so uncommon, after all, and Elizabeth’s labor would take place without the presence of family members and friends and, most especially, the presence of Elizabeth’s mother.
It was not to be, however, for the prospect of spending several months among the grandeur and wealth of Pemberley’s halls and grounds proved to be far too much of a temptation for the mistress of Longbourn to pass up, and though her husband had attempted to dissuade her from making the trip, his objections only served to make her all the more determined to go. Even after Mr. Bennet informed his wife that Longbourn’s harvest would prevent his accompanying her on the two to three-day journey, and the horses would most certainly be required in the field, her resolution—and her excessive complaining—eventually won out, and in the end, her husband, now desperate for the peace and quiet her absence would afford him, sent her north to his son-in-law.
The first week of her visit was all it had promised to be. Mrs. Bennet spent the majority of her time flitting from room to room, making suggestions for various changes to the wallpaper, furniture, draperies, and floral arrangements. She even went so far as to take it upon herself to alter the menu for the evening meals. Knowing her husband to be far from pleased with the authority her mother was so brazenly assuming in his home, Elizabeth attempted to curb her behavior, but with little success. Mrs. Bennet was so full of effusions and suggestions, gossip and idle chatter, that she soon wore down her daughter, who felt more fatigued as the day of her confinement approached. That a good portion of Elizabeth’s exhaustion stemmed from her mother’s seemingly boundless supply of verbal energy did not go unnoticed by Pemberley’s vigilant staff.
Deciding it was the only way in which Elizabeth might gain a reprieve from her mother’s enthusiastic company, Mrs. Reynolds frequently insisted her mistress retire abovestairs and rest. Though she was grateful to the housekeeper for her kind solicitation, Elizabeth found she dearly missed the companionship of her sisters. Lydia had since gone off to school in London with Mary and Kitty, and Georgiana had also removed to Town. She was now living with her trusted companion, Mrs. Annesley, at Darcy House, where she would remain until Christmas. Though Darcy was always at Pemberley, every day saw him more heavily engaged as he supervised the harvest and tended to matters of estate business with his steward from dawn until dusk, and very often much later. By the time he and Elizabeth retired each night, Darcy barely managed to crawl into bed before he collapsed beside her, his arms wrapped around her as Elizabeth snuggled against the length of his exhausted body. He would find repose quickly as he caressed the enormous, kicking bulge of his wife’s stomach, his other hand tangled in her mass of curls.
In the final days leading up to the birth, Elizabeth’s discomfort grew to substantial proportions—and not merely all of it physical. Her mother’s keen observations of her daughter’s condition were growing more astute with each passing hour, and made all the worse by Mrs. Bennet loudly extolling that, had she not known better, she would be quite certain Elizabeth’s time was very nearly upon her. What more could Elizabeth do besides offer her an awkward turn of her mouth and steer the conversation to any topic that might prove more successful in diverting her mother’s attention from the obvious?
After experiencing several days of extreme discomfort, Elizabeth felt the first pains of her labor begin early one September morning several hours after the sun had begun its ascent over the horizon. She had been parted from her husband since dawn, as his presence was required to tend to a rather heated dispute that had been escalating between two tenants for days. Wishing to feel closer to Darcy, she chose to remain in their bed in the master’s chambers, where they had passed the entirety of every night in each other’s arms. The pains were nothing more than slightly uncomfortable, and Elizabeth felt a thrill travel through her at the prospect of soon holding her child in her arms. Knowing she would need her strength for the delivery and realizing it would be many hours yet until the babe would be born, she closed her eyes with the intention of resting herself. Sleep did not come easily, however, as her pains slowly advanced—both in intensity and frequency—and, with it, her anxiety at the prospect of giving birth. She knew she should alert someone to her current situation and rang for Sonia.