“How much longer, Uncle?” Darcy asked.
“It is still impossible to guess with any certainty. First babies can be quite stubborn.”
“Is he tolerating the stress well? I have not felt him move in a dreadfully long time.”
George smiled, running one hand over her abdomen. “Babies do not move during the labor process, my dear, so do not fret. All seems to be well, as far as I can determine.” None of them voiced the obvious fact that there was absolutely no method of establishing what was transpiring internally. “Here is my suggestion. I can attempt to rupture your water sac, Elizabeth, but I would rather nature rule. Walking often helps. William, Pemberley's halls afford the perfect setting for your wife to receive some exercise as long as she can bear it. Niece, do not overextend and allow William to be your support, but stroll as vigorously as you can manage.”
Mrs. Reynolds approached as Darcy led his wife out into the hallway, announcing that the Bingleys had arrived. Jane joined the slowly lumbering duo as they ended their first circuit of the square third-floor corridor. They stood at the southwest corner, breath in synchrony as the latest contraction built, Lizzy releasing soft moans of pain into Darcy's shoulder. His mien was composed, but very pale with flickers of anguish in his light blue eyes notable even to Jane who could not yet adequately read her inscrutable brother-in-law's face. He saw her over Elizabeth's head, gesturing with one finger.
Jane drew near, laying her hand lightly on Lizzy's arm. “Jane! I am so glad you have arrived. I was beginning to worry.”
“A portion of the road was rutted horribly from the recent rains, requiring us to drive slowly. I feared I would be too late. How are you faring, Lizzy?”
They resumed their casual stroll as Lizzy, with interjections from Darcy, filled Jane in on the day's events. By the completion of the third journey Lizzy was weary, Darcy insisting she return to the room, but Lizzy stubbornly refused, compromising by resting on a corridor settee located near the stairs. She leaned into Jane's side, Darcy kneeling before her knees as another strong contraction overwhelmed.
“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
