Letters

Jaina Kenobi


Elizabeth had been in a constant state of anxiety since that first night of terror. She had called the doctor in the morning, who seemed pleased with her progress and not terribly concerned with her story of the night before. This did nothing to ease her mind, for she suspected that he imagined her to be afflicted with nerves similar to those of her mother, which did not endear him to her at all. He seemed to be not at all concerned with what she knew to be alarming in a woman of her condition, and it vexed her greatly. Not wishing to give unnecessary worry to her family, in case the doctor was right, she did not object to his diagnosis out loud and quietly thanked him for his help.

However, while they could not be predicted, the sharp pains did not abandon her entirely, though thankfully they seemed to come only at night and she could keep them from her family's notice. She called the doctor again and again, until he finally told her that she was likely exaggerating her condition as she was not accustomed to being pregnant, and that she did not need to call him unless the pains increased in severity or frequency. As they did not come every day, and not with any sort of regularity, he was not overly concerned and begged her to relax. It was, in all likelihood, simply her body's way of dealing with an unknown intruder, and would stop as her pregnancy progressed.

After much deliberation, she decided not to alarm Mr. Darcy, either, and consequently wrote the following:

My loving husband,

Your sister sends her love in reply and my father his respects. Both are doing well, as am I, though I am perhaps a little ill some nights. I am told that it is not an uncommon occurrence for married women in my condition, however, so I beg you do not trouble yourself over it.

I suspect that this will be my last letter before you come home, for if you are still not delayed I do not think there will be time for you to reply and for me to reply to that. That being the case, I suppose I shall not importune you too long to hasten your return, as by this point it hardly seems worth the effort. However, do not suspect that my not expressing such sentiments implies that they no longer exist.

I have little to tell you that has not already been said. I have yet to see Jane this week and may not have the chance to see her at all until the week following, for I understand there was some pressing matter to attend to at her estate that requires both her presence and that of her husband. As to the specifics, I know nothing, and if you want to know more you shall have to appeal to Mr. Bingley himself.

Other than that, little has changed here and I fear this will be a short note. I shall send all my love for I have little else to give at the moment. I hope it will suffice.

With all my heart, I am

Ever yours,

Elizabeth Darcy

She was not wholly satisfied with the letter, but she was not in any humor to write another, so she sealed it and sent it off. That task accomplished (it being much less diverting than it had proved in the past), she went to seek out her father in the library, to pass a quiet morning of reading and taking with him, trying to forget her fears.


This story has changed a lot since I first wrote it, and I'm not entirely sure how it's going to end any more. And I have no idea if this can actually happen to pregnant women, since I have pretty much no experience with them (I was 5 when my youngest brother was born, and all I remember is that when my mom first told me that I was going to have a new sibling I didn't believe her, because she wasn't fat). This has no basis in medicine or anything, just me playing around. But, hey, it's fiction! That's what suspension of disbelief is for, right?

Jaya