Page 87 of A Different Impression

New Life

By the middle of August, Darcy could no longer mistake how uncomfortable Elizabeth had become. She complained only a little, but he saw the weariness in her movements and the frustration with which she regarded her changing figure. Unable to remain seated for long, she frequently wandered the halls and grounds, seeming to tire far more quickly than she admitted. After she nearly fell in the garden, Darcy assigned a footman to accompany her whenever he could not be with her himself. She had objected at first, but the fright appeared to make her more willing to accept the precaution.

Around the first of September, visitors began to converge at Pemberley. Lord and Lady Matlock arrived first, accompanied by Anne, and they greeted the entire family gathered in the front drawing room. Lady Matlock exclaimed over Elizabeth’s size and commiserated with her for the general discomfort she was feeling, suggesting that Elizabeth might be more comfortable sitting with her feet up instead of constantly moving about.

Darcy sat beside Elizabeth as his aunt urged her to rest, although he suspected the advice would be no more successful coming from Lady Matlock than it had been from him.

“But I cannot sit still,” Elizabeth complained. “I ache when I sit for too long, and I ache if I move about. William is very kind and does all he can to help, but I have been so unsettled the last few days.”

“Your time is approaching, and your body is getting itself ready,” Lady Matlock reassured her, and Darcy appreciated the words himself. “What does the midwife say?”

“The same as you,” Elizabeth admitted. “She examined me the day before yesterday and advised me to rest. She also insists that the room be kept dark, that the fire be kept blazing, and that I remain in bed for a month following the birth. I assure you that none of that will occur if I can prevent it. William has arranged for the accoucheur and a monthly nurse to arrive within the next few days, and we have discussed engaging a wet nurse to assist with the night-time feedings. Aunt Gardiner has given birth four times within the past twelve years, and she followed none of the restrictions the midwife believes necessary.”

When Lady Matlock began to object, Elizabeth held up her hand. “William agrees with me on this. Nursing the child myself may delay another pregnancy, and neither of us intends to be like many of those in society who only bring their children down on occasion to show them off.”

“I understand a few of your points, but I urge you against feeding the child yourself. That is not something a woman of your station does,” Lady Matlock replied.

“My aunt nursed all four of her children without suffering any ill effects, and she did not fall with child again as quickly as many women do,” Elizabeth said. “William and I have discussed the matter and decided what is best for our family. I understand your concern, but we intend to follow our own judgement rather than society’s expectations.”

Lady Matlock accepted this with a nod and allowed the subject to drop.

Several days later, the Gardiners arrived at Pemberley. Their children and nurse followed in a second carriage Darcy had sent to ease the journey. Mrs Gardiner’s eyes widened when she saw how greatly pregnancy had altered her petite niece’s figure.

“If superstition is to be believed, you are carrying a boy, for you carry entirely in front. I should think your confinement cannot be far off,” she said nearly as soon as she stepped down from the carriage.

“The accoucheur and monthly nurse are of the same opinion,” Lady Matlock said before turning to Darcy. “Do you still intend to remain with Elizabeth throughout the birth?”

Elizabeth nodded. “He does. We know it is unusual, but I want him with me, and the accoucheur has reluctantly agreed to his presence. We have also insisted upon several precautions. William has read Dr Gordon’s treatise on childbed fever, which argues that the illness may be carried from one woman to another by those attending them. We therefore require everyone’s hands and clothing to be clean and every instrument to be thoroughly scrubbed. The birthing room is prepared, and the accoucheur believes the babe will arrive well before the end of the month.”

Over the next few days, the atmosphere at Pemberley grew increasingly expectant as the servants and younger sisters worked to ensure that all was ready. Darcy, always fastidious, took a keen interest in the arrangements and ensured that the birthing room was properly cleaned and remained that way as they waited.

The accoucheur and monthly nurse likewise settled into Pemberley. Although they initially questioned several of the precautions Darcy and Elizabeth required, they eventually agreed to observe them. Passing a half-open door one afternoon, Darcy overheard their low voices.

“Best humour them,” the nurse muttered. “The richer the family, the stranger their notions.”

“So I have observed,” the accoucheur replied drily. “If Mr Darcy wishes every instrument scrubbed twice and arranged like the Crown jewels, I shall not quarrel—particularly for the fee he is paying me.”

Darcy continued on without revealing his presence. Provided they followed his instructions, they were welcome to consider him as eccentric as they pleased.

For two days, Elizabeth had occasionally gone still and admitted to feeling pains, but each had subsided before either of them became greatly concerned. During breakfast on the third morning, however, Darcy saw her stiffen and grip the edge of the table. Her face paled, and when she rose, he noticed the dampness spreading across her gown. His heart lurched. Their child was coming.

Before either aunt could speak, Darcy was beside Elizabeth, offering his arm and calling for a servant to summon the accoucheur. Lady Matlock and Mrs Gardiner followed them upstairs, directing the necessary preparations whilst Darcy escorted his wife to the birthing room adjoining their suite. Elizabeth’s maid helped her change, and the accoucheur soon joined them. Through it all, Darcy remained at her side, offering whatever encouragement and comfort he could.

Her labour was intense, and with Darcy’s help, Elizabeth walked around the room as long as possible to help the babe move into position for the birth. Finally, the accoucheur encouraged her to move into position on the bed set up for that purpose. Before long, Elizabeth’s cries grew in intensity and volume, and her grip on Darcy’s hand threatened his own well-being. She repeatedly sought his gaze and relaxed slightly whenever he spoke, allowing Darcy to hope that his presence offered some comfort.

Their two aunts remained nearby, their expressions betraying concern and anticipation. For the moment, neither could do more than wait.

As Elizabeth’s breathing grew more rapid and shallow, Mrs Gardiner approached with a cool towel to wipe the perspiration from her face.

Through it all, Darcy offered words of encouragement. “You are doing well, my dearest Elizabeth, my love,” he murmured. “I am here. Just a little longer, dearest, and we will meet our child. I love you so very much.”

Elizabeth met Darcy’s gaze, and even through her pain, he could see both love and determination in her eyes.

“Thank you for staying, William,” she breathed. “I need you. I love you.”

At the accoucheur’s next instruction, she nodded and tightened her grasp upon Darcy’s hand. Her face contorted with effort as she pushed once more.

A moment later, the cry of a newborn pierced the air. The monthly nurse quickly bathed the child, wrapped the tiny body in a clean blanket, and laid the infant upon Elizabeth’s chest.