Chapter 18

Why was she so upset? Babies are wonderful news aren't they?

He looked at her with joy and pride. He could then see that she did not share his look of enthusiasm.

"What grieves you so my dear Amanda?" he asked her.

She replied slowly. "I do not wish you to think me unhappy, but the news of my expecting has filled me with a dreadful shock and surprise. I was not prepared for this and I must admit that I am truly melancholy."

She hoped that was all the explaining she would have to do. She wanted the baby of course. It was hers. And it was Darcy's.

But it was now. She was pregnant now. They'd only been married a few months.

She had known Darcy since she was fourteen years old, but she had only truly known him for less than a year.

She was worried she would never be the same again, that she had lost the fun beginning years that people in the 21st century look forward to having. Those years before you settle down and start making babies. Those years where it's just the two of you.

She felt incredibly selfish, but she wasn't lying to herself. She wanted him, and just him, at least for a little while.

But she also knew that the era that Darcy was from, as well as the lifestyle they lived in their grand estate gave the ability to have that precious time alone together. Which was another bit of constraint for her.

Would she be allowed to take care of her children? Or would it be expected for a midwife or governess to do it all?

Would she ever see her children once they were weaned? Or would they be locked away in their nursery, on the other side of the world from her?

She wanted children, and she was keeping this baby, but the plain and simple fact was that she was terrified. Completely and utterly terrified.

"Darcy I'm scared." She finally said aloud. His look of concern grew.

"Is it the childbirth that frightens you? Or is it the fear of the unknown?" He asked honestly.

He just had to bring it up. "Well yes, but mostly I'm scared that I won't be able to take care of this baby the way that I want to. I want to cherish it and spoil it, but I don't know how parenting works in your-I mean our time. What little I do know sounds very hands off." She finished.

He stood quiet for a moment. "Amanda, I can tell you how my upbringing was, but it doesn't matter how I was raised, or even how my sister was raised. It doesn't even matter how you were raised. My eyes have been opened to many new things recently and I have a debt to you for this knowledge yet I have the desire to tell you that the only thing that matters is how we wish to care for our child. I am a man of traditions and rules and that doesn't change, but when the subject is of the heart, and more importantly of you, my values must readjust themselves to your liking. If you wish for our child to be close to us at all times then so they will be." He finished and then stood still trying to understand the look upon her face.

"That is not all that ails you is it my love?" he asked her.

"I must be honest and say no it is not. I am truly terrified. I want this child and I want it with you, but I am not ready for a baby. What if I can't do it?" She began to cry again and he could only hold her.

He tried to assure her of his confidence in her abilities and maturity as well as his own but she was pass the brink of rational thought. Her heart was broken for a child she hadn't even gotten the opportunity to love yet.

All he could do was comfort her.

She seemed to want touch. Connection. She found herself kissing him, hugging him tight against her despite her tears. She was still hysterical and yet she needed him to hold her.

He responded to her and deepened their kiss, sensing her need. He scooped her up into his arms and took her to their bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, holding her against him like a child. He held her for a long time, until her crying was no longer sobs.

He gently began to take off his clothing, never leaving her eyes. She stared back, though her expression was broken and desperate. He helped her to shed her own clothes and then kissed her deeply.

He laid her down upon the bed, hovering above her.

She was still crying, but only because tears were falling from her eyes, for she was too exhausted to forcefully cry. He looked down at her and spoke volumes of love and adoration in his gaze. She only let him show her.

He obliged, knowing and fully intending to do everything for her this time. He made love to her only. She merely accepted it. She couldn't return it just now.

He leaned down then, kissing her deeply but gently, moving his hands to pull her legs apart and leaning himself down in between them.

He pushed himself into her then, but not with the passionate force of an aggressive lover, but the gentle pressure of a proud and concerned man, one who wanted her to know she was loved, but was aware that she was fragile in this instant. He moved slowly and tenderly, kissing her mouth, and her face, and her neck.

He softly moved his hands over her skin, everywhere, and she responded to him. She needed his love so desperately right now. If there was nothing else she knew she did know he loved her, and she wanted him to show her. Now.

She pulled him in deeper, begging him by making a slight noise and arching her hips. He responded by increasing his movements, going deeper inside her and pushing his arms under her he held her against him.

He turned onto his back, pulling her with him, and moved her against him with her body now on top of his. She wouldn't have to do a thing; he could be enough for them both, if she needed him to be.

He moved faster, only slightly, until at last they both reached their peak and fell down together, and he held her there against him as she let out a moan and a sob.

They laid there still for a moment, and then she braced herself against him and began to move again. She seemed to need to have him again, a renewed energy and fervor possessing her. She pushed herself against him, taking him as deep as she could until she rocked once again. Then he quietly enfolded her against his chest and held her as she slept.

She didn't nap for long. She woke a few moments later and sat up. He sat up too, and they were facing each other on the bed, though their hands were still clasped. She talked then, and told him of all the fears, all the excitements, and every fleeting thought through her head of this child she was now so inexplicably aware of. She was letting it go, so she could accept what was happening. She wanted to accept her fate, and live her life with her Darcy and this baby. Was she ready to say it yet though?

He sat upon their bed, leaning against the headboard. They were both naked and spent. She crawled into his arms and sat leaning her back against his chest. He gently and slowly, clearly gaging her reaction, moved his hands with hers to enfold her abdomen. He gently stroked her skin and kissed her cheek. He hummed a familiar piano piece she recognized as one of Georgiana's compositions and let her last tears of fear and joy fall down her face.