the matter some thought, requested Wilkins to attend her.
“You sent for me, madam?” asked Wilkins from the door of her sitting room.
“Yes, Wilkins; please come in and sit down.” Elizabeth noted the subtle look of surprise on the valet’s face.
“Yes, madam,” he said, and awaited her pleasure.
“Wilkins,” she said, “We have an incipient situation on our hands for which some advance planning would not be inappropriate. May I speak frankly?” He inclined his head in agreement, and she continued, “As you know, we have the expectation of adding the new heir to Pemberley to our family in the very near future, and I anticipate that the occasion of my indisposition will be a very difficult one for my husband. I wanted you to be aware of this, as it is not unlikely that you will be the one who will have to manage the situation when it occurs.” She watched him for his reaction.
“Ah, yes, madam,” said Wilkins carefully. “Mrs. Reynolds and I have already addressed this question.”
Amused that the staff were, as usual, more aware than she anticipated, Elizabeth said, “What conclusions did you and she reach?”
He colored slightly. “We have plans for a variety of contingencies. Should we receive notice of the situation before Mr. Darcy, we have several, umm, prepared emergencies that will require his immediate attention on other parts of the estate. If this is not possible, Mrs. Reynolds and I will remain with him, and should either of us deem it necessary, we will make liberal application of brandy, dosed with laudanum if required. Do these plans meet with your approval, madam?”
“They do. Dare I assume that you have already inducted Lucy into this conspiracy?”
He had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed. “Yes, madam.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Well, I am relieved that I can leave Mr. Darcy to your capable management, then, Wilkins.”
He stood and bowed to her. “I shall do my best, madam.”
Fifteen
Elizabeth’s pains began just before dawn one fine night in May. She was grateful they were not severe initially, though it was a struggle to mimic sleep in order not to disturb her husband. She was grateful when he finally awoke and she could move more freely. She accepted his affectionate kiss, then said briskly, “I am quite hungry this morning. I think that I shall ring for Lucy to bring me breakfast immediately.”
He looked at her oddly. “Too hungry to wait to be dressed?”
She surprised herself with her acting ability. “Not as hungry as that, but perhaps I was too active yesterday. I thought I might spend the morning resting.”
“As you wish, my love,” he said. “I am tempted to offer to bear you company, but I fear that it would not be rest that you would be getting, in that case.”
She managed to smile through a strong cramp. “Another time, William, I shall be happy to take up your offer.”
Fortunately, Lucy arrived shortly thereafter. Although Darcy’s presence inhibited her from speaking directly, Elizabeth managed to communicate her situation in pantomime when his back was turned. Lucy’s eyes widened, and she said in a nervous voice, “I will fetch your breakfast right away, madam.”
It seemed to take an inordinate amount of time for her husband to ready himself for the day, but Elizabeth knew that it was only her own anxiety and increasing discomfort that made it seem so. When finally he departed with an affectionate kiss and a promise to check on her later, she breathed a sigh of relief. His departure was followed so promptly by the arrival of Mrs. Reynolds, accompanied by Lucy, that Elizabeth knew she must have been awaiting her opportunity.
“So your time is upon you, Mrs. Darcy?” Mrs. Reynolds asked briskly.
“It would appear so,” replied Elizabeth with a grimace as another pain seized her. Mrs. Reynolds placed her hand over Elizabeth’s abdomen, feeling the strength of the contraction.
“The midwife has been sent for, and I expect she should be here soon. Meanwhile, it does you no good to be lying so. You must walk around, Mrs. Darcy.”
The idea seemed completely lacking in appeal to Elizabeth, but she obediently followed the housekeeper’s instructions. “I cannot walk far in this room,” she observed with a touch of amusement.
“When Mr. Darcy has left the house, you may walk in the corridor, madam.”
“Where is…” Elizabeth paused during another pain, and Mrs. Reynolds took her arm to support her. “Where will Mr. Darcy be going?”
“Wilkins is taking care of that, madam; you need not worry about Mr. Darcy. Lucy, I think that you had best fetch Anne Fletcher,” Mrs. Reynolds said.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as Lucy left. “Mrs. Fletcher?” she asked, wondering why on earth Mrs. Reynolds should want one of the cooks at a moment like this.
“You seem to be moving along more rapidly than I would expect, madam, judging by your pace, and Mrs. Fletcher is very experienced in these matters. She can stay with you until the midwife arrives.”
A brief panic swept through Elizabeth. “You will stay, too, will you not, Mrs. Reynolds?”
Mrs. Reynolds smiled warmly and patted her hand. “Of course I will stay.”
Mrs. Fletcher proved to be less concerned than the housekeeper about the imminence of the event, especially once Elizabeth admitted that the pains had been going on for some hours. She encouraged Elizabeth to partake of some soup and bread, for she would be needing her strength.
The day seemed interminable to Elizabeth as her pains continued. By midafternoon she felt already exhausted, and as the pains continued to increase in their intensity and frequency, she could no longer keep a stoic silence. “Soon, Mrs. Darcy,” the midwife reassured her during the interval between her pains. “Soon it will be time.”
Shortly after Elizabeth cried out at one particularly agonizing contraction, firm footsteps could be heard in the hallway outside, followed by the stern voice of Wilkins. “Mr. Darcy, you must come back downstairs. You cannot be with her, sir; you can do her no good. Please, sir, come down with Miss Darcy.”
“I
“Sir, it is not proper…”
“Wilkins!” Darcy’s voice had become threatening.
“Oh, let him in,” Elizabeth said resignedly. “He can do no worse here than anywhere else.”
The midwife glanced at Mrs. Reynolds, who gave a slight nod, just as the door opened and Darcy entered, his face ashen. He knelt immediately next to Elizabeth and took her hands in his. “Elizabeth, no one told me, or I should have been here far sooner.”
Elizabeth managed a slight smile. “I told them not to tell you.”
“How are you, my dearest?” He pressed kisses on her hands.
“As well as can be expected.” She gripped his hands tightly as a strong pain tore through her. She bit her lip to stop a cry, unwilling to behave in a manner that could increase his worries, no matter the provocation, but she could do nothing about the tears that leaked from her eyes.
“You are doing well, Mrs. Darcy,” the midwife said. “A few more like that, and you will be ready to push.”
“Thank God,” said Elizabeth fervently as the pain eased.
Darcy looked up at the midwife. Every woman in the room was firmly ignoring his existence. “Something is wrong! It should not hurt her so much!” he exclaimed. He was not reassured by the barely disguised smiles that met his comment.
“William, it
“Are you certain?”
“Mr. Darcy, your wife is doing very well. You need have no worries,” said the midwife.
The pain came again, and Mrs. Reynolds gave her a cloth to bite on. “Oh, Elizabeth,” Darcy whispered,
