North by Northanger

Godwin’s care while he dealt with Jenny, but he’d had no choice. Now the physician could take command.

He found the bedchamber scene much altered from what it had been when he departed. Tension greeted him at the door. Elizabeth was out of bed, leaning on Mrs. Godwin and Lucy for support. Dr. Severn stood beside them, pointing toward the bed and ordering her into it.

“Is aught amiss?” Darcy asked.

“I came in the room and found Mrs. Darcy walking around, of all ridiculous notions,” Dr. Severn said. “And this midwife encouraging her.”

“I was uncomfortable in the bed,” Elizabeth explained.

“Of course you are uncomfortable. You are giving birth, not hosting a ball. Now do as I tell you. Get back into bed and stay in your place.”

“Indeed, Doctor,” said Mrs. Godwin, “I do not see the harm in allowing Mrs. Darcy to—”

“Now that I am come, Mrs. Darcy has no further need of your learned advice. You may leave now.”

“Perhaps Mrs. Godwin can assist you,” Elizabeth said.

He glanced at both women disdainfully. “I do not require, nor desire, the assistance of an ignorant old woman. I have overseen hundreds of births.”

“So have I,” Mrs. Godwin said quietly. “And most benefit from additional sets of hands.”

“Mrs. Darcy’s maid and the other servants can perform any mundane tasks required.”

Elizabeth looked at Dr. Severn with irritation. “But do you not think an experienced—”

“Get back in bed.”

The physician clearly was not having the calming effect on Elizabeth — or himself, for that matter — that Darcy had intended when he’d engaged Dr. Severn last autumn. Indeed, the man’s arrogance and conceit instead undermined Darcy’s trust in his expertise. Increasing the distress of one’s patient hardly seemed beneficial to anybody.

“Elizabeth, perhaps now that you have had your stretch, you might return to the bed,” Darcy suggested, attempting to mollify both doctor and patient.

She cast him a look that said Et tu, Darcy? but acquiesced. While Dr. Severn glowered at the midwife, Darcy and Mrs. Godwin helped Elizabeth back into bed. Darcy noticed that she had secured the scrap of cloth from the statuette around her wrist.

“I found Jenny and questioned her thoroughly,” he said. “She asserts that she added nothing to your tea, and I am inclined to believe her.”

Relief crossed his wife’s countenance, though plenty of distress remained. “Did she surrender the ivory?”

“Unfortunately, she had just passed it to Mr. Wickham and Mrs. Stanford when I discovered her, and I could not question her and pursue them at once. But we shall retrieve it, I promise you.”

Another pain took hold of Elizabeth. A soft whimper escaped her. The pain was expected, but that fact did not make it any easier for Darcy to witness.

“Mrs. Darcy, will you cease that moaning?” Dr. Severn snapped. “It is most irritating, not to mention terribly unbecoming in a lady of your station.”

“But I—” She gasped for breath between words. “Hurt.”

“You and every other woman in travail. What did you expect? Women are supposed to endure pain while giving birth. It is the natural way of things.” He turned his back and began withdrawing his array of torture devices from his black bag. “Demonstrate some selfcontrol, or we are in for a long night of it.”

Elizabeth looked as if she were about to cry. She gripped Darcy’s hand so tightly he thought his fingers would break. Did the doctor have no human compassion?

Mrs. Godwin took her other hand and rubbed the small of her back. “This one is almost over. Take a deep breath and release it slowly, as we did before. There now — it has passed. With the next pain, we shall count together again to distract you, all right?”

The midwife’s words soothed Elizabeth, and she nodded. The afflicted expression left her face, replaced by one of trust and calm determination.

“You shall do nothing of the sort,” Dr. Severn declared. “That ridiculous counting will drive me to distraction. Mrs. Godwin, I said you may leave. You as well, Mr. Darcy. The birthing chamber is no place for a man.”

Darcy was beginning to think the same thing. At least, in regard to one man in particular.

“Dr. Severn, my wife’s mother is downstairs in the yellow drawing room. I suspect you will find her in want of a tonic for her nerves. Kindly attend to her — and remain there unless Mrs. Godwin summons you.”

“I do not understand you, sir.”

“Then I shall speak more plainly. I am consigning my wife to Mrs. Godwin’s care. You will assist her if she has need of you.”

“I assist her? You cannot be serious!”

“Indeed, I am.”

“I am a doctor — one of the most sought after in London. I received my training from the Royal College of Physicians. I will not be ordered about by some country midwife.”

“I respect your training, Doctor. It is the reason I hired you. But your manner is adding to my wife’s distress.”

“So I am to take direction from a woman? I will not suffer such insult.” He shoved his equipment back into his bag. “Mr. Darcy, I bid you good day. May your wife survive it.”

Another pain seized Elizabeth, but the absence of Dr. Severn seemed to make this one easier for her to bear. When it had passed, she thanked him for banishing the physician. He was uneasy about the doctor’s medical expertise walking out the door, but the departure of the man himself had also removed considerable anxiety from the room.

Mrs. Godwin helped Elizabeth find a more comfortable position in anticipation of her next pain. Then she turned to Darcy. “I have things well in hand here, sir, and your wife needs to focus on the work she has ahead. Bid her farewell for now.”

He looked into Elizabeth’s face. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her. He kissed her deeply, then continued to hold one hand to her cheek. He tried not to let the spectre of his mother’s fate haunt him.

“You will see me again,” she said.

“Is there anything else I can do for you? Would you like your mother with you after all?”

“I think perhaps I would.”

“Lydia?”

She managed a laugh. “No. But if you would send for Jane?”

He should have thought of that himself. “Of course.”

“And—” She hesitated.

“Name it, Elizabeth. If it is within my power, it is yours.”

“It probably is not. But...” Beloved eyes, intense with the commencement of another pain, beseeched him. “I believe I would feel better if I had your mother’s ivory.”

The ivory that was even now speeding away. He could hardly bring himself to leave the room, let alone Pemberley. What if the unthinkable happened while he was gone?

Yet if he departed immediately and rode hell-for-leather, he might manage to overtake the fleeing carriage. He would be performing some useful function instead of impatiently pacing the gallery like a caged tiger. And if there were any truth in the family legends at all, he would be doing something to protect his wife and son through the danger of bringing him into the world.

Several servants entered, carrying in supplies. He turned to one of them. “Run to the stables as quickly as you can. Tell the groom to saddle Mercury.”

Thirty-Eight