Page 90 of A Different Impression

Darcy looked down at his wife and daughter. Roseanna’s downy head rested against Elizabeth, whose weariness had done nothing to diminish her happiness. He caressed Elizabeth’s cheek before allowing his fingers to drift over his daughter’s soft hair. For a few precious moments, everyone else in the nursery receded from his awareness.

CHAPTER 37

Finding a Balance

The extended family remained at Pemberley for a fortnight after the birth, allowing Elizabeth and William time to establish something resembling a routine. An additional nurse was engaged, although the twins remained in the nursery adjoining Elizabeth’s chambers, and both parents were determined to take an active part in their care.

Elizabeth nursed the twins as often as she could and hoped she would require the wet nurse’s assistance for only the first few months. The woman and her own infant had been comfortably accommodated near the nursery, allowing her to care for her child whilst assisting with the twins. She had expressed considerable gratitude that accepting the employment had not required her to leave her baby behind.

Even with the assistance of their family and servants, Elizabeth and William were frequently exhausted. They had not merely one infant demanding their attention but two. Thus far, both children remained healthy, for which Elizabeth was profoundly grateful. She knew too well how frequently children failed to survive their earliest years, but she refused to allow that fear to consume her. All she and William could do was ensure both their children received the best possible care.

Over the following weeks, the twins grew and delighted their parents, aunts, and everyone entrusted with their care. Elizabeth gradually resumed her walks and some of her duties as mistress of Pemberley, whilst William returned to managing their estates and business interests. Although they had established a routine with the nursery maid and wet nurse, Elizabeth remained determined to do as much as possible herself and often rose during the night to tend one or both children.

One afternoon, not long after the twins had been christened and Elizabeth churched, she found herself weeping over some trifling matter she could not afterwards recall. William recognised her exhaustion and insisted she rest. She fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow and awoke several hours later to find him waiting for her. He led her into their sitting room, seated himself upon the settee, and drew her into his arms.

“Dearest, I know you wish to do as much as possible for our children yourself, but you are wearing yourself out,” he told her gently. “You cannot continue as you have been. You are nursing two children almost entirely by yourself, fulfilling your duties as mistress of Pemberley, and sleeping only a few hours each night. The wet nurse and nursery maid have very little to do because you will not allow them to help you. They are here to assist us, not to take our places, but you must permit them to do so.”

“I do not want someone else to raise my children,” she replied, hearing the defensiveness in her own voice.

“You would not be allowing anyone else to raise them,” he reasoned, and she was tempted to be angry at him for how reasonable he was being. “You must find some balance between the children, your responsibilities, yourself, and”—he hesitated—“me. You cannot do everything without assistance.”

Tears stung Elizabeth’s eyes, and any anger abated. “I am exhausted, Will,” she admitted, wilting against him. “I cannot keep pace with everything that must be done, and I am constantly forgetting things. My mind feels as clouded as it did during the final months of my confinement.”

“You are exhausted, dearest. Do you know how quickly you fell asleep this afternoon? Your head had scarcely touched the pillow. Our children were perfectly well whilst you slept, and the nursemaid was pleased to have something to do.”

Despite herself, Elizabeth laughed faintly.

“I propose that we allow the servants to perform their duties for the remainder of the evening,” he continued, “whilst we dine together in our sitting room. We have had very little time alone since the children were born, and I should like an evening with my wife. The wet nurse can manage most of the feedings tonight. Tomorrow, we shall decide how you may fulfil your responsibilities without exhausting yourself. Have you not taught Kitty and Georgiana enough about estate management that they might assist with some of your duties?”

Elizabeth considered his words, guilt swiftly joining her weariness. “I have neglected you as well, have I not? I am so sorry, William.”

She began to cry again.

“No, Elizabeth. I did not mean to make you feel guilty.” William held her more tightly. “We have both been tired, but you are attempting far too much. I merely want you to care for yourself and allow those we have engaged to perform their duties. If you continue in this manner, you will make yourself ill, and I cannot permit that.”

Elizabeth rested her head against his chest. “We shall dine in our rooms tonight, and I will endeavour not to rise whenever the children wake. The nurse may bring them to me only if necessary.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I must feed one of them soon, however, or I will ache from being too full. Would you see whether either is hungry?”

“I might assist with that difficulty myself, if you wish,” he suggested, giving her a rakish smile she had not seen in some time.

She grinned. “That would be something new.”

To her surprise, he shook his head.

Elizabeth raised an enquiring eyebrow. “It would not?”

“Not entirely.”

It took her a moment to understand his meaning. When she did, heat flooded her cheeks.

“William!”

His expression was entirely too pleased with itself.

“You never said anything,” she exclaimed.

“I did not think it necessary,” he said with an amused grin.

Elizabeth stared at him for another moment before her indignation dissolved into laughter.