I think we are almost done, though of course I have thought that before. So rather than promise, I will let you read this chapter and perhaps you can suggest whether I should wrap this up with Bingley's POV and then an epilogue, or if something else is needed.

Chapter 26: Mrs. Bingley's POV

The early birth of Mrs. Collins's latest child, Ezekiel, appeared to be making my sister on edge about the impending birth of her second child. Lizzy, of course, did not take me into her confidence for a while, but there were various signs that I noted. She kept inviting me to visit her, even when I had already been to see her only days earlier. And when I did visit, she touched her belly much more than I recalled her doing with her first child. It was as if she was trying to reassure herself that the child within was well. Each time when it was time for me to depart, she clung to my hands and asked, "Will you be back soon, Jane?"

I, naturally enough, thought it odd that my strong and confident sister was being so needy. However, it also gave me some satisfaction to be needed in this way, to have her depending on me. We had already arranged that I would attend her birth as I had for the previous child.

Lizzy did not confide in me for some time. Three visits I made and she said nothing. However, my visit the day after the Collinses baptized Zeke before the whole congregation (a clear sign they felt his life to no longer be in danger), she finally shared what was troubling her. However, this did not occur until almost the end of a visit, when I drew it out of her.

I recall she mentioned almost nonchalantly, "Lady Catherine shall also tend to me when the time comes."

I must have given her a look because she justified, "I am confident in my decision," and began to list her reasons, ticking them off by raising her fingers. "One, Charlotte cannot attend, although Zeke is doing well he still feeds very frequently.

"Two, Lady Catherine birthed several children of her own and is quite knowledgeable. The Collinses may even owe Zeke's life to her.

"Three, she long ago apologized for how she acted towards me and apologized again before she married Papa.

"Four, by marrying Papa she became as a mother to us and it is only right to have her attend to me." Four of Lizzy's fingers were raised now and she seemed to be struggling to think of more.

"Five, Lady Catherine does not really have any other duties to get in the way save for her wifely duties to Papa and knowing him, he will be content enough with a book when the time comes." Lizzy gave a little sigh of accomplishment, staring me straight in the eyes as if to challenge me to say anything.

Normally I would have certainly agreed with her assessment of the correctness of her action, but I was feeling peevish. So I asked, "Do you truly welcome and wish for Lady Catherine's attendance, or are you trying to show Papa that you are welcoming his new wife into your bosom affection? Or . . . can it be that my brave sister, who is courageous in all things, never intimidated by anything, is scared this time and needs a new Mama to hold her hand?"

I admit that perhaps I was being a bit mean, for me anyway, but I expected Lizzy to set her chin and tell me I was mistaken. She did not. Instead Elizabeth folded in on herself, tucking her chin down, hunching forward and wrapping her arms protectively around her middle. She said nothing.

"Was I correct?" I asked, even though there was no need. Her silence revealed everything.

I will admit that a small cruel part of me, the part that felt a triumph in Charles's distress when I limited his visits to my bed, the part of me that was like to Caroline Bingley, was happy to see my sister brought low. But almost immediately, the stronger, better part of me was anxious to soothe her. "All will be well, Lizzy. Women have babies everyday and you both were fine the first time."

She looked up at me then and pronounced, "I know I should not be this scared; I was not the first time and that was when fear would have been more logical. I know that babies may die, mothers, too, but in Meryton I did not personally know any that succumbed. Undoubtedly I knew women who lost their babies, but it was never talked about and I doubt I really noticed when a woman withdrew from society. All of our close friends were single but for Charlotte when we married."

I nodded and she continued. "And though Mama talked about almost everything, I never heard her speak about babies who died. Perhaps it was because it was not seemly to be thinking of such things when we were still innocent maidens, but in reflecting back, it seems to me that both Aunt Phillips and Mrs. Long were frequently ill and seeing no company in our younger years and perhaps their afflictions might have been of this kind."

"Did you truly not know?" I asked, astonished. "Do you not recall how there was to be another Bennet before Lydia? Mama nearly died, laboring for days and after all that, he was born dead, and Aunt Phillips was with us for many months. She was a fine choice for helping Mama as she had been through it so many times herself. Our Aunt Phillips lost every baby she carried, the one who lived the longest was Daniel, who lived only but a week, born alive but too early. That was the summer you were away with the Gardiners. His grave is in the church yard burial ground with five others, but only two were baptised and named. Have you never seen how sometimes after a service they go out into the cemetery?"

"Well yes," confusion still lingered on her face and she justified, "but all our relatives are buried there. And the Phillipses never had a mourning wreath over their door or wore mourning clothes."

"Lizzy, do you not recall that Aunt Phillips favors wearing browns and greys? She is always mourning." Truly I did not understand how she could be so blind.

Heedless of my knowledge that I should not be talking about dead infants and mothers with my sister who was likely to give birth at almost anytime, I continued, eager to prove that I had worth in my observational skills and others' willingness to confide in me. "Do you truly not know that the first Mrs. Lucas died when Charlotte was born and the one now is the third to bear that name?"

Elizabeth shook her head and her eyes darted anxiously, like a spooked horse. I fell silent. Although it was not really my intention, I could see I had made her anxiety for the upcoming event far worse.

"How will I bear my fear?" she asked me.

I responded, "You will because you have no choice. It is simply the way of the world that women and the children they deliver are always in mortal peril, but healthy babies are born every day to rejoicing mothers. Still, if this one be a son, you need not go through it again."

Lizzy looked at me in confusion and I responded to her unspoken question. "Come, do you not recall Mama's instructions on other ways to satisfy your husband?"

"I do, but how can you deny yourself and your husband something that gives so much pleasure and satisfaction? Something that binds you together and unites you? "

I considered then telling Elizabeth about how I had neither felt such satisfaction nor wanted to with my husband, who even now likely was keeping a mistress in Lambton. While I had shared with her my husband's betrayals, both certain and probable, I had never spoken of our private marital acts or the lack of them. However, the question must have been rhetorical, for she continued on, adding, "Too, we both wish for a large family. Even now it is most wonderful to be together, to give and share delight."

Somehow thinking on this had settled my sister somewhat, although she still rubbed at her belly. Then she asked me, "Have you taken such measures because you fear more children?"

I blushed (I could feel the heat in my cheeks especially, although it warmed my whole face) and considered demurring. However, Lizzy and I were alone. I told her, "I am simply a convenient vessel for Mr. Bingley's passions. My mouth serves such a purpose with far less risk."

My response seemed to dumbfound my sister and the silence made me further embarrassed by my confession. However soon enough she had her arms around me, although not as much around me as her embrace would have been before without her turgid belly. I felt a kick against my own middle and had a momentary desire to be with child once more.

Finally Elizabeth spoke, "So you simply serve your husband in that way out of duty but deny him further children, forgo exercising true marital intimacy?" The look she gave me made me think she felt sorry for me and that was simply something that I could not bear. I made no reply and made excuses to be gone as soon as could be.

I half resolved to seek out my own happiness, to demand that Charles give up his mistress. But when I returned home, Charles was not there and I did not see him until the following morning at breakfast where we both played the part of indifferent acquaintances.

A week later, a message arrived from Pemberley telling me that Elizabeth's pains were upon her. When I arrived, Lady Catherine was at Lizzy's side, rubbing her temples (Lizzy's eyes were closed) and advising, "You are doing well. Try to relax into your pains rather than fighting against them. Remember every pain brings you closer to your child's arrival."

The midwife, the same wizened woman who brought forth all the children and was two heads shorter than me, stood a little apart from them observing and then sidled up to me to whisper, "It is well that you have come. Mrs. Darcy will be more at ease having her sister near. Lady Catherine is a dab hand at this and all is well in hand. It is early yet. I have another mother in the village who is further along and I must return to her. I will return ere too long; Lady Catherine knows what would require sending for me."

She slipped out as soon as Elizabeth's pains ceased, I could tell as the tension was suddenly gone from my sister's face. Lady Catherine murmured in a soothing tone that reminded me of how I addressed my children when they were sick or overly tired, "All is well. Mrs. Bingley has arrived but you may still rest for now."

"Hello Jane," Elizabeth greeted me, eyes still closed. A minute or so later she opened her eyes and sat up. We chatted about nothing of importance for the ten minutes or so until the next pain hit. It did not last very long, perhaps half a minute.

Afterwards Elizabeth sat up again, looked around and asked, "Where is the midwife?"

Lady Catherine explained in that same gentle tone, "She is with Mrs. Bagley. She believes she will deliver much sooner than you, but will return soon."

Elizabeth crunched up her shoulders and pressed her lips tightly together and said not a word. Lady Catherine beckoned me closer. Instead of ordering she suggested, "Perhaps you can rub her shoulders and help put her at ease."

We both attended to my sister and it seemed to help. Although her pains grew closer over the next several hours, they were still short each time.

Later they spaced out further and my sister slipped into a light dose. It was around this time, an hour before midnight, that the midwife returned. She observed for a while and said, "This little one will not arrive tonight. You should all try to rest, to sleep if you can. I need some sleep as well."

Lady Catherine took charge then, arranging a guest room for the midwife, making sure my usual chambers were prepared, summoning Mr. Darcy. I was outside the chamber, talking with Lady Catherine, when Mr. Darcy appeared. He strode so rapidly it was as if he could barely restrain himself to a walk. I saw worry etched across his face in the tense lines in his forehead and clenched jaw, and his hands were at fists at his side.

"How is she?" He demanded.

Lady Catherine answered, "Your wife is fine."

Before Lady Catherine could tell him more, he asked, "But the child is not?" There was just the smallest quiver of his lip, and his tone was thick and higher than usual.

"All is well," Lady Catherine reassured, laying a hand upon his forearm and looking up at him. "Her pains have gone away; the midwife is quite sure the baby will not be born until tomorrow. I would have thought she would have spoken to you."

Mr. Darcy shook his head in negation, his shoulders relaxed a little and he let out a shaky breath. "Thank God!"

Lady Catherine then pulled him into an embrace and he leaned into and over her, like an overgrown child. I saw her pat and then rub his back. She said calmly as she patted and rubbed, "Darcy, I never meant to scare you. Sometimes things happen this way. Elizabeth resting now will give her the strength to bear the child tomorrow. You might as well keep Elizabeth company tonight; she will take comfort from resting with you, you can be sure. If her pains resume, you may certainly call on me."

He gave a single decisive nod, opened the door and lingered for a moment outside. The look he gave his wife was one that any woman would have gladly claimed for herself and I wondered if Charles had ever looked at me that way. His eyes were wide and filled with hope, longing and love. His face was soft and the barest of smiles graced his lips. Then he walked in and closed the door behind him without another word for either of us.

I expected Lady Catherine to bid me goodnight and hurry to her own chambers and expected I would have to do the same, but I felt myself at loose ends. I was too alert to imagine settling myself down to sleep even if the midwife was correct and we had that time. Perhaps Lady Catherine felt similarly, for she lingered outside my sister's room as I did.

I felt more comfortable in Lady Catherine's presence than I had before. She seemed more approachable with her shorter curly hair, mostly white at the front but dark at the back. Indeed, it made her look more like Lizzy.

The hours spent with Lady Catherine, in which she devoted herself to doing all she could for Lizzy, had softened me toward her. I imagined how my mama would have been, if she could have attended our births. I imagined Mama would offer practical, blunt advice but also be fluttering and overcome. I could not imagine her rubbing Lizzy's temples and remaining quiet unless Elizabeth engaged us in talk or she thought Lizzy needed words of encouragement. Lady Catherine had truly acted as an ideal mother ought in such circumstances and I felt my sister was both wise and fortunate to have her attendance. I even was already considering whether if I had another if I should ask Lady Catherine to attend me.

"Should you like to sit a bit and talk, Mrs. Bingley?" she asked.

I responded, "Surely we should get some sleep as the midwife advised until our services are needed again."

"I suppose we should," she replied, " but I cannot just yet and perhaps you feel the same. "

I nodded and we walked to the library. She paused, opened a door near it a bit and peered inside, then withdrew, softly closing it. I recalled her and my father's chambers were near the library. "It is as I thought, Tom is asleep."

We settled in the library which even though the hour was late was lit with candles. I suspected that Mr. Darcy had been haunting the library before being fetched by a servant.

I sat upon the grey sofa that my father favored. Lady Catherine, rather than sitting in the wing-back chair that was her usual spot, joined me on the sofa. We were silent and after a while I wondered why I was there at all. Then she shifted to angle herself toward me and leaned forward, fixing me in her gaze. She told me in a gentle tone, "Mrs. Bingley, I have long wanted to talk with you, to see if what is broken can be mended, to take you into the care of a mother toward her most beloved child. I know it is not the thing done, exceeds the bounds of propriety for gentle discourse, but my character has long been celebrated for my frankness and I will do what I think is needed, whether it be seemly or not."

Perhaps I should have fled then, but the idea that her care was fixed upon me felt good. Having seen how hard she worked to give my sister what comfort could be had when in her pains, I trusted her intentions. Instead of leaving, I settled only deeper in what was proving to be a most comfortable chair.

"Your father and sister are concerned about the state of your marriage, " she told me, looking as if assessing my reaction. I made none, my ordinary demeanor firmly affixed. "Perhaps it truly is not my concern. I will not force you to confide in me, but hope you might trust me. I wish to give you a mother's care in all things."

I gave a nod of acknowledgment but otherwise said nothing. This must have been invitation enough, for she leaned closer to me and asked, "What, my dear, causes such a divide betwixt you and your devoted husband?"

"Devoted?" I hissed back. "Nothing could be further from the truth. Even now he is likely with his mistress, taking comfort from her." I crossed my arms, well aware of the petulance of my tone.

"And if he is, " she said evenly, "why should you care? You, my dear, are the one pushing him away. But I do not think he finds comfort in another's arms, or if he does it would be for mere physical release. Every time I have seen you together he tries to draw near to you, but you rebuff him at every turn. He would not still be making such an effort if he had a convenient who had captured his heart. "

"He is faithless. He never trusted my love; he threw it away."

Lady Catherine asked, "Will you tell me of it?"

I told her bit by bit, the words first trickling from my mouth in drips and drabs that turned into a torrent, a flood that I could not stopper. I told her all about falling in love with Charles, his leaving, his long delayed return, my hesitancy in trusting again, our marriage and the day he broke my heart even as I tried to pretend nothing had changed.

"Mrs. Bingley, Jane . . ." I nodded my agreement to the more informal address to the woman who had claimed my mother's place, "has your heart no room for forgiveness? Can you not see that none are perfect, save for the Savior? Has Charles not paid enough for his sin? Have you not punished him enough while suffering yourself? Life is too short, my child."

I found myself sobbing, sobbing like a little child. Then I felt a hand stroking my shoulder. The space between us had vanished and I all but flung myself into her arms, which surrounded me. She held and rocked me back and forth. "All will yet be well." I cried for a long time, or at least it seemed a long time. Through it all, she was with me, her arms holding me firmly to her bosom, needless of my tears and snot upon her dress. Finally, I calmed.

"But Mama," I did not intend to address her by such a moniker, but who last had held me in her arms in such a manner but my own devoted mother, many years ago? "whatever shall I do?"

"Forgive," Lady Catherine replied, without hesitation, "forgive your husband and yourself, and then try to forge a better future."

I pulled back a little and looked up at her. "You make it sound easy."

Lady Catherine responded, "Do not misunderstand me, Jane, I assure you, it is not. Yet does not everything worth having require effort and work? If it were easy, you would have done it long ago."

She gave my shoulder a squeeze and then slid away from me, putting a respectable distance between us. I confess that I missed her holding me. I thought about how I was always the one holding my children, but no one ever held me.

Lady Catherine must have felt something of how I was feeling for she told me, "Child, if you are willing, I will be here to support you how ever things turn out."

I nodded and leaned forward, my arms upon my knees. She leaned forward likewise.

I asked, without calling her Mama once again, although I was tempted to do so, "What should I do?"

Lady Catherine responded, "You must have a frank talk, tell Mr. Bingley why you have acted as you have, be vulnerable, share your fears. You must own how you have wronged him and leave it to him to own where he has failed you. Then on the other side a better life is possible for you both. Nothing I have seen makes me think it impossible, only difficult."

We talked a bit more, but soon my eyes grew heavy and I began to think I would fall asleep in that very chair. The idea was not particularly troubling. But before I was truly lost to sleep, Lady Catherine was urging me up. Leaning on her, she walked me to my room. No maid was waiting for me, so it was Lady Catherine herself who unbuttoned my dress, loosened my stays and divested me of all but my shift. She even pulled back the counterpane and drew it back upon me after I was abed.

As I drifted away I thought I heard her say, "Sleep well, my child."

I slept until nigh on ten in the morning, at which point I was roused by a maid who told me, "Your sister needs you; her pains have resumed."

In just a few minutes, I was back by my sister's side. Lady Catherine and the midwife were already in attendance and it was clear to me that Lizzy's labor was in earnest. I resumed rubbing my sister's shoulders while Lady Catherine rubbed her temples. Lady Catherine repeatedly offered words of encouragement to my sister, although I was not sure if she even heard them, so occupied was she with her pain.

About two hours later, following the midwife's instruction, Lady Catherine and I each held one of Lizzy's hands as we led her to the birthing chair. Minutes later as she brought forth the babe, my sister's eyes remained closed as she grunted deep and low, simultaneously crushing our hands. With two deep grunts from her, his dark hair and then head emerged and with a third the baby slithered out into the midwife's hands. I immediately saw that it was a man child.

"He is come," I told my sister. "You are delivered of a son."

Elizabeth was still panting with her eyes closed upon my pronouncement, but at the word "son," her lids burst apart and I saw her eyes seek her child. The midwife slapped at the baby's bottom and he began to howl, his pale face going red. She then proceeded to tie the cord and cut it before wiping away the whitish coating that all babies are born with and then swaddled him in a blanket. He quieted when he was wrapped.

The midwife handed the baby to me saying, "Hold the baby for a minute," and then to my sister, "Mrs. Darcy, you must push again, to deliver the afterbirth. My sister grunted and a couple of seconds later the afterbirth plopped into a bowl the midwife was holding.

My sister breathed easier then, though her lids drooped with exhaustion even as she raised a shaky hand to touch the baby's face (I was holding him close to her) and then closed her eyes again and rested. I continued to hold the baby as the midwife went to work cleaning Elizabeth and then stitching her up.

I paid little heed to the midwife's work then, cuddling the little one close to my breast and speaking to him. I told him, "What a handsome boy you are, with dark hair just like your papa. He will be so happy you are here." And within my own body, I felt an ache to have another baby.

Soon enough Elizabeth was back in her bed, resting in a new night gown, and I placed the baby into her arms. "Get Fitzwilliam," she told me.

No sooner had I opened the door than Mr. Darcy burst in, his eyes immediately on his wife. "Are you well?" he asked as he strode past me to reach her.

"Well enough, but very, very tired," she told him. And then instructed, "Come meet your son."

I watched their happy reunion for a few minutes. It was beautiful to see how they felt about the other but it was also most evident to me that my own marriage was but a pale imitation of what could be possible between a husband and a wife.

I knew that I needed to go. My own children and husband were waiting for me. I walked out of the room with Lady Catherine and the midwife. Of all things they were discussing the efficacy of making a broth for Elizabeth to consume which would be made from boiling the afterbirth. The midwife insisted, "The afterbirth broth will help her womb recede and the healing begin," while Lady Catherine insisted, "A woman should never eat what was once a part of her body." I recalled with a certain disgust that I was fed some sort of broth after delivered of my children that had a peculiar flavor. Was that what I had eaten?

I chose not to stop and engage in this debate as I was anxious to be at home. As I walked towards the front parlor, I encountered a footman and ordered that my carriage be prepared. I was determined that after I saw my children, I must certainly talk to my husband before my courage fled.

However it seemed as if circumstances were conspiring to keep me from my goal. First, my children demanded my attention, but then it was the cook and the housekeeper who needed me. When dinner came, I saw to my dismay that my husband had guests in attendance. Mr. Cobb regularly was a guest at our table, but it was more unusual to have two of our tenants, Mr. Grubber and Mr. Sams. Whereas before I would have welcomed the distraction of their presence, tonight I could not wish them gone soon enough.

They lingered after dinner and soon enough my husband invited them into his study. I was left alone. I sat by myself and worked on some embroidery for a time, but finally when it was clear they did not intent to join me at all, I took myself off to bed. My plan was to speak to him when I heard him gain the adjoining room.