The Miracle Of Life

"Lizzie, please forgive me." Darcy clutched Elizabeth's sweat-soaked hand in his own, willing her to draw on his strength. His concerned brown eyes took in the sight of her trembling body.

"Forgive you..." Elizabeth breathed softly. "Whatever do you need forgiveness for?" she exclaimed. She lay her head back onto the pillows, resting for a moment before the onslaught of pain would commence again. She smiled at her husband, sitting so devotedly beside her, always such a loving protector of her well-being. With her free hand she stroked the swollen mound of her stomach, the muscles hard and tight with their baby fighting now to make its entry into the world.

"For putting you through this," Darcy replied huskily. "I would never wish that you would have to go through so much pain... not for anything in this world." He took her hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it so that he could press a long, feverish kiss on her delicate wrist. Elizabeth looked lovingly at the top of his curly head, her other hand coming atop his curls to stroke them in adoration.

"I wouldn't change this for anything, Fitzwilliam. This baby will be our first miracle." She smiled in happiness, ignoring the twinge of pain that signalled that another contraction was imminent.

"I love you, Lizzie," Darcy rasped as he moved closer to his wife to support her back as she groaned in pain.

Elizabeth heard the hoof beats that heralded the arrival of a visitor at Pemberley. Her heart leapt at the thought that it could be Mr Darcy returned home early from his planned fortnight away. But it could not be, she told herself sternly. Her husband was not due to return home for at least another two days.

Elizabeth had missed him terribly for the past 12 days and was eager to impart some news to him that she hoped would cause them both unsurpassed delight. Elizabeth reverently caressed her still flat stomach, losing concentration on the letter that she had been reading from Jane. A baby! What a miracle. Elizabeth lost herself in a daydream of tiny sons and daughters, exact replicas of her beloved husband.

"Lizzie..." Darcy stood at the entrance of the parlour, mock censure in his tone, as Elizabeth was startled from her daydream. "Do I not even warrant a welcome home from my own wife?" His posture against the doorframe was one of feigned nonchalance.

Elizabeth was filled with joy at the sight of her husband. She flew at Darcy with an eagerness borne of deep love and separation. Darcy braced himself as Elizabeth leapt at him, and he lifted her into his arms as her own clung like vines around his neck. "Fitzwilliam..." she breathed against his neck. "You are home." Darcy placed her gently back on the ground and drew her in for a passionate kiss.

"I missed you, my darling Lizzie," he told her as soon as she allowed him to draw breath. "However I am interested to know what has brought on this enticing display of enthusiasm."

"I just missed my husband," Elizabeth smiled up at him, her hands clasped around his neck. "You have been gone for twelve days. The longest twelve days of my life."

"Did something happen in those twelve days, Lizzie?" Darcy asked with concern.

Elizabeth's eyes sparkled, and she stepped back from her husband. "I have something to tell you." She took Darcy's hand, and turned it over, smiling at the confused look in his brown eyes. She placed his hand, palm down, over her stomach and held it there, waiting patiently for him to comprehend.

When he did, Elizabeth was not disappointed with his reaction. Suddenly his expression changed from one of bemusement to one of awe, and he glanced down at her flat stomach. "You mean... are you..." he stuttered, unable to form the words.

Elizabeth nodded. "We are having a baby, Fitzwilliam..." She laughed with happiness, as Darcy's lips descended, and Elizabeth found herself engaged in a passionate display of her husband's exhilaration.

Mr Darcy was contemplating her beauty, as Elizabeth once again was calm. The dark brown curls that even now draped over the pillows; the thick, black eyelashes, the length of which never failed to amaze him; the rosebud mouth, which even through her pain smiled at him, flashes of her brilliant white teeth showing through. And her gorgeous body - full breasts which had become fuller throughout her confinement, womanly curves that even now protected their child. He stroked the firm mound of her stomach, crooning to the child within, and caught his wife's gaze as she smiled at his antics. "Be kind to your mama, little one! Come into the world gently." Elizabeth laughed softly, taking his head in her hands and bringing his head up to look into her eyes.

"Do not put so much pressure on our poor baby. However she chooses to enter the world will be fine by me, so long as she is healthy." Darcy was awed by her gentleness, her loveliness, even in the face of her pain. A true mother to his child, selfless and giving. In a passionate moment, Darcy sealed his lips onto the rosebud mouth - short, open-mouthed kisses, showing his wife how much he loved her. Elizabeth returned the kisses in kind, her hands framing the beloved face. When they were finished, Darcy rested his forehead against hers, husband and wife breathless after the unexpected ardour.

"She?" he questioned. "Last week you swore to me that the baby was to be a son." Darcy smiled, amused by the changeability. "Now you are telling me it is a daughter?"

"Last week I was sure she was a boy, Fitzwilliam. However... I have changed my mind; our child is definitely a girl." Elizabeth caressed her stomach again with undisguised devotion to the child within – Fitzwilliam's child. "A daughter, Fitzwilliam? How can I bear so much happiness?" Darcy looked into Elizabeth's eyes which were shining with unshed tears.

The sight of his Lizzie moved to tears at the thought of being a mother to his child filled him with pure, unadulterated adoration. "How was I ever blessed with your love, my Lizzie?" he wondered, thanking heaven for whatever circumstances led him to this day.

A sharp rap on the door interrupted the loving moment, and what the housekeeper saw when she entered caused her heart to stop. Never had she had occasion to see such devotion between a man and woman – she felt truly blessed to work in such a household as Pemberley. She did not want to interrupt the moment; however, time was of the essence, and it appeared that the mistress was commencing another contraction. "I'm sorry, Sir, but the doctor has arrived. He is just washing up and will attend to Mrs Darcy shortly."

"Thank you, Mrs Reynolds." Mr Darcy barely glanced at his housekeeper, so concerned was he with Elizabeth's pain. "All will be well, my love. You will see..." his words soothed Elizabeth, as he stroked her forehead and hair comfortingly.

The doctor entered a moment later and was evidently surprised to see Mr Darcy with his wife. He called to the midwife and Elizabeth's maid so that the women could assist in the birth, more surprised that the women were not already in attendance. "Mr Darcy, Sir... we are ready to begin to birth the child. Perhaps you would best wait outside."

Mr Darcy frowned at the doctor and then glanced at Elizabeth. He had not given a thought before to the custom of a husband's observing the birth of his children, but now that he considered, he realised that to this doctor, it was most improper. "Elizabeth?" he asked his wife, because although he did not want to leave the room, he would allow himself to be guided by her.

Elizabeth looked longingly at her husband, and then for a moment considered her own appearance. She smoothed back her hair and felt the sweat soaked lengths. "Perhaps it would be best if you did not witness this, Fitzwilliam." She spoke in a small voice. "I must look hideous..." Her delicate hand trembled, and Darcy, who could read Elizabeth like a favourite book, saw her bottom lip wobble.

"I am staying," he announced determinedly and settled himself back into his chair. "You should not go through this alone," he leaned close to Elizabeth's ear and spoke in a low murmur.

"But, I look... truly awful..." Elizabeth breathed, glancing at herself self-consciously.

"You have never looked more beautiful to me..." Darcy whispered endearments in her ear and was satisfied when his adored wife smiled delightedly.

The doctor did not say another word, although bewildered by this unusual behaviour from such a rich man. He had birthed many babies in his time and never before had a husband insisted on staying in the room to witness such a sight.

He was further baffled, but highly moved, when as the hours progressed, Mr Darcy's devotion did not dwindle, but instead his involvement only grew. When the head finally started to make its appearance, Mr Darcy was sitting on the bed behind his wife, legs spread, her sweat-soaked back resting against him. His hands cooled her with strokes of a wet cloth on her red face and neck.

"I cannot take any more..." Elizabeth panted as the pain became excruciating. For hours, the contractions had become progressively worse; yet, the baby would not come. All her fatigued body wanted was to stop. "I need to rest." Urgent words, as the tears poured down her exhausted face.

"Sweetheart, you can do this," Darcy spoke from behind her, pressing his lips to her ear and cradling her head against his neck. "You are almost there. Our daughter is waiting to meet you!"

"Fitzwilliam... I am so tired... I just... do not think... I... can..." she panted sharply, taking what comfort she could from the smell of her husband's strong neck against her nose.

"Lizzie... just a little while longer," Darcy soothed, his heart aching to see his strong, beautiful wife in this pain.

"Time to push now!" The doctor instructed, and Elizabeth pushed as hard as she could. Then suddenly it was all over, and a babe's cry filled the room. Elizabeth burst into exhausted tears of happiness as she turned to look at her husband, and the midwife placed a swaddled bundle of soft flesh in her tired arms. "It is a girl!"

"We did it..." Elizabeth sobbed, grasping Darcy's hand as his arms came to rest under hers which held the baby.

"YOU did it..." He smiled, tears of joy filling his own eyes. "MY beautiful, brave, strong, wife."

"She is perfect is she not?" Elizabeth moved the blanket aside and stared lovingly at the long black eyelashes and the mess of black curls atop her daughter's head.

"As perfect as her mother," Darcy replied, one finger stroking the baby softness of his daughter's cheek, then returning to grasp Elizabeth's hand.

"Thank you for staying with me. I did not want you to leave me," Elizabeth whispered as Darcy shifted position so that his wife could rest back on the pillows. He lay next to her and gently took the baby from her arms so that Elizabeth could sleep. He kissed his beautiful daughter on the forehead as Elizabeth's maid took the child from him, and then he returned to his wife's side, kissing her soft lips, and lying down to take his rest beside her.

The End

Hope you liked that little piece of fluff - hoping to make it up in some way for the angst that is An Unequal Marriage. Please review.