North by Northanger

haired woman. “But I should return to the rest of my guests.”

“It has been my pleasure.”

As they rose, the torchlight shone more fully upon Elizabeth’s face.

“You have some streaks of blood around your nose.” Mrs. Godwin reached for the handkerchief. “Here — permit me.”

While the midwife dabbed Elizabeth’s face, Darcy came round the corner. Relief flashed across his features upon sighting his wife.

“I have been searching for you. Georgiana observed you leaving the hall and said you appeared to be in some distress.” He noted her bloody face and the soiled handkerchief with alarm. “What has happened? Are you all right?”

“A nosebleed, that is all. Mrs. Godwin has taken good care of me.”

He acknowledged the midwife’s aid with a nod. “I appreciate your attention to my wife.”

“I am always pleased to be of service to your family, Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Godwin gave the kerchief back to Elizabeth. “Keep this in case you should need it before you have an opportunity to retrieve a fresh one. But I think the bleeding is ended.” She regarded her warmly. “I am happy for your news. If I can assist you at all in the coming months, do summon me.”

“I shall. Thank you.”

As Mrs. Godwin departed, Darcy examined her face closely. “Did you experience a mishap?” He withdrew a handkerchief of his own and wiped a spot the midwife had missed.

“No, my nose simply started bleeding. Apparently, your daughter caused it.”

He paused mid-stroke. Apprehension spread across his paling visage. “Has something happened to the baby?”

“Not at all. Mrs. Godwin assured me that this is normal for women in my condition.”

“Bleeding for no reason is never normal. I shall send for Dr. Severn.”

“That is entirely unnecessary. And there is a reason. Mrs. Godwin says—”

“I am sending for Dr. Severn.” His tone left little hope of compromise.

“But, Darcy, Mrs. Godwin says there is no cause for concern.” She put a hand on his arm, not realizing that blood from the handkerchief had stained her fingertips. The sight of it unsettled him further.

“Dr. Severn can determine that when he arrives.”

“The doctor will not appreciate coming all the way to Derbyshire to tell us nothing is amiss. Mrs. Godwin has known her share of expectant mothers. If she says all is fine, why trouble him? I trust her judgment.”

“I do not. Edith Godwin failed my mother. I will not risk her failing you, too.”

She recalled, then, that in the chronicle of birthing horror stories Lady Catherine had shared, she’d said that Anne had died in childbed by bleeding to death following Georgiana’s delivery.

She released a weary breath. “All right,” she conceded. “Summon Dr. Severn.”

Dr. Severn, Lady Catherine — what a charming party they were assembling at Pemberley.

Perhaps she should invite Lydia back.

Twenty

When the ladies returned to the drawing room, there was little to be done but to hear Lady Catherine talk, which she did without any intermission till coffee came in.

— Pride and Prejudice

“You have, of course, already engaged a monthly nurse to assist with your lying-in?”

Elizabeth sipped her tea and tried to appear appreciative of Lady Catherine’s latest probe into her arrangements for the baby. She had started to search for a recovery nurse who would assist her for the month following her child’s birth, but had not proceeded further than sending out enquiries.

“I have not yet settled upon one.”

“You should have secured a monthly nurse by now. The most competent ones are engaged months before their services are needed. Hmph. Well, I suppose your procrastination enables me to assist you in selecting her. Young mothers ought to seek the counsel of more experienced ones in such decisions.”

Elizabeth had sought such counsel — from her aunt Gardiner, whose good sense she trusted. In fact, her aunt had helped Jane locate her monthly nurse, a woman who had impressed Elizabeth favorably enough that she hoped to engage her.

“The ideal nurse is between thirty and fifty years of age,” her ladyship offered unasked. “Old enough to know what she is about, yet still vigorous enough to perform her duties. She must be quick to wake so that she can attend to your needs, or those of the babe, at any hour of the day or night. A mild temper is essential...”

Elizabeth half-listened, her mind less occupied with the present conversation than by the one she’d had with Mrs. Godwin yesterday. She wanted to ask Darcy’s aunt about the statuette, but Lady Catherine had given her no opportunity to introduce the matter.

“... moral character above question. A church-going woman. One cannot trust a person who does not regularly attend church. I was appalled by how few of the people who overran Pemberley yesterday appeared in church this morning. Did they overindulge to the extent that they could not rise from bed?”

“Many of them live in neighboring parishes. A few are Catholic, and attend a church in Lambton.”

“Catholics?” Her disdain was evident. “Good English folk adhere to the teachings of the Church of England, not those of Rome.”

Elizabeth, sensing the imminent eruption of a theological lecture, acted swiftly to contain it.

“Lady Catherine, I am most grateful for your advice on selecting a monthly nurse. As a new mother, I can indeed benefit from the wisdom of those more experienced. I imagine your own mother offered considerable guidance when you and Lady Anne were in my condition?”

Her ladyship’s eyes narrowed. “Why should you enquire about my mother?”

“The countess was my husband’s grandmother. I wish to learn more about his family.”

“She was a lady of high principle and impeccable reputation,” she declared defensively.

Elizabeth was uncertain how she had given offense. “I do not doubt her character. Did she take pleasure in her grandchildren?”

“She never knew them. She passed away shortly before your husband was born.”

“Oh — forgive me. I did not realize.” She poured more tea into Lady Catherine’s cup and added the one lump of sugar her ladyship required. “The timing of her death must have been especially difficult for Lady Anne — to lose her mother during her own impending maternity. The heirloom she received from the countess — the Madonna and Child statuette — must have provided some comfort.”

Lady Catherine looked at her sharply. “I have not thought of that statuette in years. But now that you have brought it to my notice, you may return it to me.”

“It was my understanding that the ivory belonged to Lady Anne, and that she lent it to you when your daughter was born.”

“She gave it to me. It ought to have been mine all along, as I was the eldest daughter. When my sister conceived first, our mother sent the ivory to her. But it was always my mother’s intention that I should possess it.”

Elizabeth suspected that was a matter of interpretation. It sounded like the same sort of “understanding” that Lady Catherine had claimed existed regarding a marriage between Darcy and her daughter, Miss de Bourgh. Had either existed beyond Lady Catherine’s own mind? “Yet you gave it back to Lady Anne when she carried Georgiana.”

“A loan — and only because she had plagued me for years about it. She regretted having relinquished it and asked for her gift back every time her husband got her with child again. She had some foolish sentimental notion of wanting it with her during her confinements. Finally I could bear her entreaties no more and surrendered it rather than receive another letter on the subject.