Darcy frowned, unconvinced. “But what if the baby arrives tonight? I cannot bear the thought of you enduring any hardship. Perhaps we should summon the midwife to check on you, just to be safe.”
Elizabeth chuckled lightly, amused by his overprotectiveness. “You would have her at my side every hour of the day if you could, would you not? It is only a few more days, I assure you. You need not worry so. I shall tell you immediately if I feel any changes.”
He shook his head, determined not to relent. “I cannot help but worry. You mean everything to me, and the thought of anything going amiss is unbearable. You deserve all the care and comfort I can provide.”
“William, I appreciate your concern, truly. But I have faith that all will go well. Our child will arrive when it is ready, and we must trust in that,” she said, patting his hand.
Darcy’s expression softened at her words, though he could not entirely quell the unease that coiled in his chest. “You are far more courageous than I, Elizabeth. I wish I possessed your strength. All I can do is stand by your side and hope for the best.”
“Your love is my strength,” she replied, reaching for his hand and intertwining their fingers. “We shall face this together, just as we have faced everything else.”
As the days passed, the anticipation in the household grew palpable. Servants moved about with purpose, preparing the guest chamber for the arrival of the midwife and ensuring that all was ready for the birth. As the end of Elizabeth’sconfinement drew closer, Darcy had implored the midwife to stay at Pemberley, adding another set of watchful eyes to ensure Elizabeth’s care and comfort.
Elizabeth remained composed, but even she could not deny the flutter of nerves she often felt. She wished her Aunt Gardiner could have been with her, but it was far too difficult to travel all this way.
Late one evening, a sudden storm swept through the area surrounding Pemberley, the wind howling fiercely as thick, swirling gusts of snow fell outside. Elizabeth lay in bed, wrapped in blankets, her heart racing as she sensed that the moment she had been waiting for was drawing near. She glanced at Darcy, who was finally sleeping soundly after a night of fretting when she had grimaced in response to a pain.
“Fitzwilliam, wake up,” she urged, her voice steady despite the whirlwind outside. “It is time to fetch the midwife.”
Though it took a moment, Darcy slowly came to consciousness. “What … what did you say?”
Elizabeth felt a wave of discomfort wash over her. She inhaled sharply, her eyes widening as she clutched her belly. “You need to fetch the midwife and Mrs. Reynolds. I believe it is my time,” she said, her voice steady yet laced with urgency.
Darcy shot upright in bed, instantly alert. “What do you mean it is your time?” he asked, his brow furrowed with concern. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, Fitzwilliam, I am certain,” she replied, forcing herself to remain calm despite the tightening sensation. “The contractions have begun. I need you to act quickly.”
He scrambled from the bed, throwing on some clothes in haste, his hands trembling with a mix of anxiety and determination. “I will be back in a moment. Just stay here and breathe. I will not be long.”
As he rushed out of the room, Elizabeth took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising tide of discomfort. She focused on the flickering candlelight, its warmth a small comfort against the storm raging outside. She could hear the wind howling, echoing her own nervous anticipation.
A moment later, Darcy returned, his face pale but resolute. “Help is on the way, Elizabeth. And I am here. I will stay by your side if you wish it. You do not have to go through this alone.”
“I want you to stay with me if you can stand it,” she replied gently, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I need you to breathe with me. We cannot have you passing out and becoming one of the patients.”
As another wave of discomfort washed over her, she squeezed her eyes shut, breathing through it. Darcy moved closer, taking her hand and holding it firmly, her pain appearing to give him strength. “You are incredibly strong, Elizabeth. We will get through this together.”
She nodded, finding strength in his words. “I know. I have faith that we all will be well.”
Just then, the door opened, and the midwife entered, her face a picture of calm amidst the chaos. “Mrs. Darcy, I am here,” she announced, her voice soothing. “Let us prepare for the arrival of your little one. Mr. Darcy, I must ask you to leave.”
“No,” he replied, “Elizabeth wishes me to stay with her.”
“You can return after we have her settled,” the midwife replied. “There are several things we need to do to prepare Mrs. Darcy for the birth, including moving her into the birthing chamber. Let us do what we need to and then you rejoin your wife.”
Reluctantly, Darcy moved to do as he was asked, but only after receiving a patient smile from Elizabeth. He stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling within him. He leaned against the wall, straining to hear any sounds from the room, praying for Elizabeth’s safety.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a servant came out into the hallway from the mistress’s chamber. “Mr. Darcy, you may come back in now.”
Darcy entered the room and went directly to his wife’s side. Her face was glowing although she was clearly weary. The midwife and other servants worked efficiently at the foot of the bed, arranging the necessary items, while Elizabeth’s breathing quickened with each contraction.
“Elizabeth,” Darcy whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead. “You are doing so wonderfully.”
As another wave of discomfort washed over her, Elizabeth gripped his hand tightly, her nails digging into his palm. The midwife’s voice was calm as she said, “Just a little longer, Mrs. Darcy. You are almost there. Focus on your breathing.”
Darcy watched as Elizabeth breathed through the pain, her brow furrowing. “William, I—” she began, but another contraction hit, cutting off her words. She closed her eyes, trying to push through the discomfort. He squeezed her hand, attempting to reassure her.
Minutes passed like an eternity. Soon, the midwife guided Elizabeth through the final steps of childbirth, and they heard her announce, “Congratulations, you have a son.”
