Author's Note: I do not own any of Jane Austen's characters or works. Again, sorry for the length between posts, but I'm afraid it's unavoidable for obvious reasons. Hope you enjoy this one as much as the rest and as always, please review after reading xxx
Turned and Tossed and Stretched
Sunday 12th March 1815
Midnight
"I promise you sir; the house was quite in uproar."
The repetitions of the servant's promise, however, was little consolation to the four standing in the hallway at Longbourn, where it seemed the servants were no more concerned than they would have been with a request for tea. Upon exiting Netherfield, the young man before them who now wore an uncomfortable look on his face, had rode on horseback, his frantic gestures to speed up only increasing the distress inside the careening carriage.
Elizabeth, breathless and clutching her husband's arm, spoke frostily. "Your promises are not worth the air into which they are uttered." She then shook herself free from Darcy and ran upstairs. "Mamma!"
The young man approached Mrs Bingley. "I beg you to let me apologise, ma'am. I assure you I was told of the mistresses' death."
"I am a forgiving woman, but I find it hard to conceive that any man, especially one whom I had considered to possess so much integrity as you, could possibly fail to secure the particulars of such a grievous situation before he set out to report it." Her voice wavered and was on the point of breaking as she spoke. "Is my mother dead?"
With shuffling feet and a barely audible voice, the messenger replied that he did not know the particulars of the mistress' situation and Darcy, frustrated at such a blatant lack of sensitivity, followed his wife's steps, leaving Jane and Bingley to wisely lecture on the benefits of the scarcity of a servant out of favour with his employers.
Darcy had blindly run to the first floor landing of Longbourn, only intending to find Lizzy, and not realising that he had never actually been there before and had no idea which room contained what. After turning down several silent hallways, he came upon the sight of his wife. At first, Darcy was relieved both for not being caught wondering around young ladies' rooms, and for having found his wife. Sadly, his happiness was driven away when he saw Lizzy almost doubled over, standing outside an open door.
"Lizzy?" He attempted to give her comfort, but she would receive none, and only pointed to the open door. Seeing quickly that he would do just as well to follow Lizzy's wishes, Darcy walked sheepishly inside and understood perfectly the reason behind his wife's tears.
The room was bigger than would have been expected, and furnished in such a way as to give the stranger an immediate idea as to whom this room belonged. Mrs Bennet sat propped up against a pillow, quite the thing, and her foot, which had recently been bandaged, was equally propped. Mr Bennet sat beside his wife and had clearly been providing comfort, but his attention was caught by the worrying sounds emanating from his second eldest daughter in the hallway. Mrs Bennet did acknowledge him, however. "Mr Darcy." The gentleman addressed bowed gratefully to the lady and begged to be excused for a moment, as Jane and Charles entered to look upon the same breathtaking sight on which he had just turned his back.
"Come, Lizzy." Elizabeth, quite surprisingly to her husband, ceased weeping and seemed quite embarrassed as she desperately tried to appear composed. Darcy handed her another handkerchief as the one she had previously been given had quite outgrown its use. "Where can we go for privacy?" Without waiting for his wife to respond in the positive or the negative, he hid her from view of her parents and followed her . . . blindly.
They entered a smaller but no less pleasing room than before and Lizzy closed the door behind them, with a slight hint of a smile on her face. "This was my room." She said, knowing this was not news to her husband. "You look uneasy, dearest." Lizzy observed in Darcy that he was reluctant to sit down and fidgeted terribly, an oddly amusing site under the circumstances.
"You know very well that I am uncomfortable. I have never been in this room."
Lizzy smiled more enthusiastically, and took his hand. "Oh I perfectly comprehend your discomfiture. I suppose this room is a symbol of the innocence I had when we first met."
"You are quite wrong, my dear." Darcy closed the gap between them. "There was never any innocence about you." Lizzy stared at him, open-mouthed. "Your bedroom here only makes me think of that time when I had no claim over you, and therefore, no right to intrude upon your privacy."
She smiled. "What makes you think you have any claim over me or my privacy now?"
"Lizzy, you know perfectly well what I mean." She removed from their embrace to sit on her bed. "Your bed looks as though it is ready for you to come home."
"Not so, my mother would drive me back to you herself." She paused quietly. "My mother is . . . goodness, what a fright that was." Darcy moved towards her, but she recoiled. "No, please. I shall cry again. I promise I am alright and also that I shall never forget Bennet's first birthday." Darcy laughed with her, and suggested that she did not go unnoticed out in the hallway and her parents might be waiting. "Yes, thank you . . . you are invaluable, my love." Darcy leaned in to kiss his wife, but found that when he reached the spot where he understood her to be, she had scampered off to Mrs Bennet already and he had no other option but to follow her.
"Oh Lizzy, no more tears now. You never cried at all." Mrs Bennet kissed her daughter on the forehead and saw her returned to her husband's side. "I see you did not bring my grandchildren."
"Mamma, they were quite asleep!" Jane exclaimed, receiving tea from Kitty. "We did not think under the information we had at the time -" Mrs Bennet waved any more mention of such a dramatic incident from her children – to which every other person in the room was quite surprised – and after they ascertained that she had in fact broken her ankle, Bingley and Darcy insisted they return to Netherfield.
* * * * * * * * *
Monday 13th March 1815
3pm
Elizabeth observed her family with keen eyes: her parents, whom, she thanked the Lord, still required a plural to describe them despite the chaos of the night before, were equally engaged in the pursuits of proud grandparents and she checked herself before she thought of her and Darcy in much the same role; her sisters Mary and Kitty talking excitedly with Jane, something she had rarely witnessed during her lifetime, about their prospective holiday with herself and Jane; Bennet waddling and rolling on the Darcy quilt with his cousin, for whom Lizzy and Mrs Bennet had sewn another square; and Fitzwilliam, talking with Charles and Mr Bennet, enjoying himself in the knowledge that his son was today one year old. Her countenance conveyed happiness, except for the occasional moment when it fell, upon the observation that dearest Lydia could not be with them.
"You will forgive me, my sons," Mr Bennet addressed Darcy and Bingley, removing himself from their discussion, "If I beg to end this conversation in order to begin the celebration of my dearest grandson's anniversary?" Lizzy smiled at her father, knowing that the unnecessarily loud volume of his speech meant he spared himself the bother of actually calling his guests to attention.
Bingley, gleefully watching his own immediate family, replied. "Sir, I believe we shall. Do proceed."
"Come, girls, do not keep your father waiting, it does age him so." Mrs Bennet guided her children comfortably from her chair, where her foot remained rested and her gaze focused.
"Indeed it does Mrs Bennet, about as much as it ages you." Lizzy smiled again as she sat, and she watched Darcy bounce Bennet on his knee and Bingley do the same with Christiana and it did not seem so strange to her that two such disparate men were good friends. "Well, I am not one for speechmaking." Mr Bennet began, standing at the head of a very finely dressed table. "But when called upon I do believe I can make good my skill with words. I do not pretend to be responsible for any of the finery you see before you: that was the doing of my wife and my daughters in order to celebrate that one year ago today, our dear grandson . . . and nephew was born." Bennet stopped momentarily enjoying the attention of his father to observe the fact that every face was turned to him and he too turned, confused, to his mother and father, before demanding to be bounced up and down again. "So, as is customary, I wish to make several toasts."
Kitty lifted her glass along with her family. "How wonderful, I do not believe we have ever heard you make a toast, Papa."
Mary nodded in agreement and quickly served those without a glass. "We shall all enjoy, it. We have to; he has been changing about his words for weeks."
Elizabeth gave a father a look. "Papa, you need not stand on ceremony."
"I most certainly am not, Elizabeth." He then proceeded to take out a detailed list of announcements, much to his daughter's amusement. "Well, now. Ben, I am sure you shall not mind if I thank your parents, after all, you would not be here without them." He then raised his glass to the couple and invited his guests to do the same. "To Mr and Mrs Darcy, in much the same way as you were toasted on your wedding day, your mother and I would thank you for our grandson as he certainly eases the sadness of not having you at breakfast in Longbourn every day."
"Oh, Papa." Lizzy blushed under the compliment and felt Darcy's hand take her own. The guests drank to them, and responded in agreement with their hosts.
"I am not finished as well you know, my dear." Again, he raised his glass and toasted his wife and daughters for the finery of the day, his niece, and finally turned again to Bennet, who had been amusing himself by standing up, holding onto his mother's hands and now sat down, watching his elder carefully. "Bennet, you shall not remember this day, I do not think, but nevertheless, I wish you a wonderful time and hope that you desperately irritate your parents when you arrive home, so that they may bring you back to see us again, as soon as possible," Ripples of laughter travelled around the table and produced the same in the young infant, "To Bennet."
"What a wonderful speech, Papa." Mary applauded her father's efforts. "Now, excepting Mamma, I think we should play a game. I am in a great mood for bowls."
Indeed it was excepting Mrs Bennet that the small group enjoyed a game of bowls, rounders and hide and go seek – although this last was, according to the men, solely for the benefit of the children, but as the afternoon wore on, so did the energies of those in attendance.
The Darcy quilt at least was well in use: serving those too tired to stand or play games. Elizabeth herself sat leaning against a chair holding Bennet, much as she had earlier that day, and Jane held Christiana, sleeping just as placidly.
"How is Victoria?" Jane whispered from across the quilt. "I think, last you said, she was five months gone?"
Elizabeth nodded. "Indeed. Six months now." Bennet sighed in his sleep, and Lizzy began to lay him in a Moses basket instead. "'Tis a shame, she wanted to come to Pemberley to see us, but Richard would not allow her."
"Perhaps . . . that is a sensible decision?"
Lizzy rolled her eyes. "Jane, there was nothing wrong with my travelling at six months. It was only a carriage journey."
Jane tutted and admonished her sister. "Elizabeth Darcy, you may not have felt it a stressful time, but you scared everyone else in the family, including Mrs Reynolds!"
"Jane, really-"
"Lizzy?" It was Kitty's inquiring voice that saved her sister from any explanation. "When are we to leave for Derbyshire? Mary and I are so looking forward to seeing Georgiana."
Elizabeth smiled, glad that she did not have to worry about forging an easy relationship between all her sisters. "You shall leave when we do, Kitty, Wednesday morning. Have you started packing, dearest?" Kitty explained she had, as had Mary, and their father had even had two new dresses made for them both.
Jane looked surprised at the mention of Mr Bennet's extravagance. "Goodness, perhaps we should leave tomorrow, then Papa will have some money left for food!"
When the laughter subsided, Kitty spoke softly and her face was slightly drawn. "I do miss Lydia, though."
* * * * * * * * *
Wednesday 17th May 1815
6pm
Something was wrong, very wrong, and Elizabeth knew this to be the truth, despite her senses telling her otherwise. It did seem strange however: it was dark and she never woke before dawn; she was on the wrong side of the bed and in fact, upon further inspection of the room, Lizzy realised she was not in the master suite at all.
She paused, slightly frightened, wondering if she was experiencing side effects of some strange event. Suddenly, an attempt to sit up brought back flushed memories of the previous night.
"I must wish you a Happy Birthday, my dear."
"Your wishes are belated, my love, but I shall forgive you. I assumed you intended to surprise me?"
"Indeed, I did. And was Mrs Darcy pleased with her celebrations? They were small and private, as requested."
Elizabeth remembered nodding and a request for wine, which she poured herself. "Dearest William, you –"
"What is it?" Lizzy recalled feeling light-headed and heard again from her husband questions about her health. "Lizzy, you look quite pale. Sit, sit down."
In a moment she would never forget, Elizabeth looked down to see blood pooling at her feet.
* * * * * * * * *
9pm
A sweet and comforting voice lilted to Elizabeth's ear, lifting her gently from her subconscious. It was easily identified as that of Jane, whose soft tones had often wakened her from sleep as a child. "Georgiana, my sister has never been one to be ill and idle."
"So I have been told. I only need think of her trip to Hertfordshire when Bennet was not yet born." The young girl replied. Then came the voices of her younger sisters, yes, they were visiting from Hertfordshire. Elizabeth's comfort came from the steadiness she heard in her companion's voices: so there could not be much terribly wrong with her, now. There had been last night, however.
"Lizzy?" Jane's hand pressed a cool cloth to Lizzy's forehead and she opened her eyes, only now realising she had been moved slightly, and was sitting up. "She is awake. Girls, please fetch Darcy." Jane turned back to her sister. "What a fright you gave us."
"Tell me what happened, Jane."
"I do not think it is my business to tell you. I was not there, Lizzy."
This defence only frustrated Lizzy and she developed a headache. "Jane! What then, have you been told?"
Their voices dropped to whispers as a fast-paced step was heard moving down the corridor. "I know nothing that would not be better told to you by your husband."
"Elizabeth?" Darcy walked in hopefully, but with tentativeness about his step that made Lizzy feel even more fragile. "I did not want to seem too hopeful. You have been asleep many hours."
"Not any more than normal. Have you not had breakfast?" Jane and Darcy exchanged darted looks, before the former excused herself. "William, what time is it?"
He sat down next to her and pressed her hand into his. "It is about nine in the evening. You have not been conscious for more than a day."
This was overwhelming. Lizzy panicked, and begged an answer from her husband. "Tell me the truth. You know a veil will only frustrate me."
"Before I do so, you must let me tell you that you have nothing with you, and you are perfectly healthy." She nodded, already feeling herself to be so. "I love you, and so does our son."
"Why do you say that first?" Elizabeth saw that he was not happy, certainly not as before and she had never seen him so forlorn and exhausted.
Darcy took a discomfiting breath. "Elizabeth, Dr Howards examined you before he would allow us to move you and the fluids you had lost were also inspected." Strangely enough, Lizzy felt butterflies rise in her stomach – she was nervous. "He later informed me that you had miscarried."
A silence reigned between them. Elizabeth watched him and knew he was not lying, but she was immensely confused. "I was not with child." Darcy nodded and replied he did not think so either, but indeed, they had lost one. "No," Elizabeth shook her head and frowned stubbornly, "No." Whilst knowing it to be the truth, Lizzy was convinced otherwise for one pure reason: she remembered her mother once lost a baby, and she did not cease to see tears run down her cheeks for some months. Elizabeth felt nothing.
* * * * * * * * *
Tuesday 30th May 1815
11.15pm
Elizabeth and Darcy sat reposing before bed in the master suite: Darcy reading and she staring off into the distance as she often did lately, despite his efforts to provide her with amusements. At length, Elizabeth's thoughts found purchase on some regular topic and she iterated to Darcy that her uncle's gift had been sent in the post. Darcy wondered why she told him of that specific completed task, though he did not risk upsetting her apparent calm by asking her.
She gave no reason, and without effort knew she would be unable to find sleep. The view of the room gave her no calm: it was too familiar and unexciting and although the view from the window was not new either, at least it was quite the most beautiful natural landscape in the world.
Darcy looked up from his book at the movement of his wife, not knowing why he feared she would hurt herself, and watched her gaze outside.
Elizabeth leaned against the pillows and let her mind turn to that subject which she had been trying to avoid. Covering her mouth with her hand, she let tears fall and eventually felt her husband's arms embrace her.
"You are not culpable, my dear." Darcy said cautiously, not wanting to bring up the child if she was attempting to dispel all thoughts of it.
Elizabeth pulled away slightly, letting him hold her hands and leaning back again into the wall. "This vista is not as soothing as I had thought it might be." She smiled and paused, staring at him. "Who is to blame, if I am not?" Darcy remained silent, though he knew not why. "Fitzwilliam, are you not upset?"
"The implication in your question is unfair, Elizabeth. I am sad and I have been for many days now. However, I try to find consolation in my faith." Elizabeth was confused and intrigued: he did seem calmer than her and she trusted whatever it was that brought him comfort. "God is a generous being and for some reason which is beyond our comprehension, he chose that the babe was not to be born: perhaps he thought it was not right for us to have another child so soon, Bennet is just one."
Lizzy looked at him: bewildered that he should be so understanding of such a ridiculous reason. "I should much rather have the difficulty and happiness of another child over the loss and sadness we feel now."
"As would I, Lizzy, do not pretend to be unaware of that. I only mean that I have always believed that everything happens for a good reason. My experience is that God shall reward us two times over in much the same way as he did after you rejected me. When I asked you again, I won your hand and your love."
Lizzy nodded, comprehending his thoughts but finding it difficult to apply them herself. She wrapped her arms around her abdomen, feeling protective. "I feel such a failure: a mother should be able to carry her child."
Darcy sighed and knew the feeling: he felt it whenever he saw Wickham, whenever he thought about the interminable time spent downstairs whilst Elizabeth was lying-in and moreso now than ever, because it seemed he could not comfort her. "It was not your fault, nor anyone's. Lizzy, this could not have been prevented." He attempted to find a reason for her to be happy, and came upon the following before his sense could silence it. "You must try to rejoice that you had a miscarriage so early, before you could develop any feelings."
Elizabeth could not believe she heard him right: and she shoved him away in anger. "I beg your pardon?" She spoke in a flat tone and wrapped herself in her shawl. "I cannot so easily reconcile the loss of a child, Mr Darcy, and perhaps you should curb your tongue before you insult me any further."
* * * * * * * * *
6am
Elizabeth sat in a spot not usually occupied by her. She was freezing, but her thoughts staid her feet and though she knew herself to be stubborn, she would not move. Her anger towards Darcy was warring with her desire to see him. She knew he had not meant his words, but she almost wanted to blame him.
As if on cue, she heard him approach her hiding-place and when he saw her, he swore under his breath. She would reproach him for his vice, but he had every right to be angry at her disappearance: she had told no-one where she had gone and he must have been searching. "I am sorry for not leaving a note."
"Elizabeth, for God's sake!" He shouted. "What on earth are you thinking? It is unseasonably cold and you run off without telling anyone after we had fought – what am I supposed to think? I have several servants up ready to begin a search party for you!"
She stood to face him, struggling to regain her composure, not used to having him shout at her, but aware that he loved her. "I am sorry."
"Lizzy, I thought something had happened to you." He stepped closer to her. You leave after we have been fighting and I come looking for you . . ." Elizabeth saw the panic in his eyes and it brought tears to her eyes faster than she could get rid of them. "Dearest . . . my darling Lizzy, I am sorry, but you put the fear of God into me when you disappeared. You are very good at it, and however hard I try, I never seem to know you well enough to be able to find you."
Elizabeth drew breath and steadied her voice. "You are insensitive, Fitzwilliam. How could you dismiss such a thing?" She made to walk past him, but he was not intending to let her wallow any longer and grabbed in a very ungentlemanly way and held her into his embrace. "Let go . . . William!"
Darcy stood firm against her protests and eventually held her closely. "Elizabeth," he said, when they both had calmed and sat down, "You must understand, I love you and I am devastated. But when I look at you and our son, I cannot help but be overjoyed. We are good people: we have nothing to fear."
Lizzy smiled at his sentiment. "I am happy . . . but I cannot get rid of the thought."
"And so you should not. Do not force smiles, Lizzy –"
"Wait a minute, William. Last night you told me exactly the opposite: that I should try to be happy."
"I do not pretend to be completely aware of what you need. I only thought you wanted me to tell you that you are not to blame."
Elizabeth sighed: it was unfair of her to blame him and she saw that her sadness only increased his own. Running her hands around his neck, she kissed him and shivered in his arms. "I know it is blameless." She wiped an errant tear away. "I only ask for your tolerance and comfort, I have only ever needed you." Darcy kissed her again, enjoying the feeling of her heart racing as they embraced. They returned home together, both desperately in need of time with their son.