Chapter 27: May 1816
"She is perfect Jane, just perfect," whispered Lizzy to her sister as she placed Anna Bingley in her mother's arms.
"I have waited so long for her," Jane whispered, tears of exhaustion and happiness streaming down her face.
"May I come in?" asked Charles' impatient voice from the door.
He was admitted, and Elizabeth went downstairs, leaving the new parents together with their child, the midwife having already left the room.
Darcy was standing by the parlor door waiting for her. She almost fell into his arms and he supported her to a chair.
"Are you alright? I knew you shouldn't have stayed in there the whole time. Is Jane well and the child?"
"Nonsense! I couldn't leave her. Jane is quite well, and Anna is the most perfect baby anyone could wish for. As for me, I am only a little tired."
She laid a hand on her stomach as her baby kicked. It was due in less than three months and she was generally anxious to meet her little one. Now, after having just witnessed Jane's eight hours of labor, she was quite willing to wait a while.
Darcy pulled her closer. "Charles was terrible," he said with a chuckle. "I had to remind him of his request that I shake him if he carried on like I did."
"And did you?" with a slightly alarmed smile.
"No, but I was ready to when the news finally came."
"I think you were a little sympathetic."
"Very," he said emphatically. Then, more quietly, "You don't know how we husbands wish we could help you when you go through such a time."
"I know dearest. And you do help me. Just thinking of you gives me strength."
She put her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. A minute later he looked down and saw that she was asleep. He smiled and brushed a stray curl away from her face.
She woke with a start. "Goodness, I just dozed off, didn't I?"
"Yes, and you are going to bed right now," he said, taking her hand and standing up.
"I suppose I should," she admitted, rising slowly. "You will wake me if Jane needs me?"
"Yes, but I daresay she shall be resting peacefully too."
Quiet soon reigned over Highwood Manor.
At Rosings Park, the scene was a very different one.
The back of the house was all a bustle with the preparing and unloading of the carriages which were to convey Lady Catherine to London and those which brought Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam from it.
The spring was well advanced, but a succession of bad weather had delayed both the spring planting and travel from London. Even now the sky was clouded over with dark rain clouds and the servants hurried about, trying to get everything under cover before more rain fell.
Lady Catherine received Richard's young wife with a critical look, but no other sign bad grace. Later, when aunt and nephew were alone together, going over the estate's accounts, she spoke her mind on the subject more fully.
"I cannot understand what the young men in my acquaintance find so attractive about the Bennet sisters. Pray tell me there are no more of them unmarried to catch any more of you."
Richard was incensed. "Aunt, if you had half of the perception you are so famous for you would see that the 'Bennet sisters' who are now Mrs. Bingley, Mrs. Darcy, and Mrs. Fitzwilliam respectively are nothing which is not good and lovely."
"And may I remind you that one of them is a Mrs. Wickham."
He paused. "Mr. Wickham was known to the Darcys long before the Bennets ever heard of him. Are they, and myself too, any less connected with him?"
"You dropped the connection."
"As far as we could, and so did the Bennets when his true character was made known to them," he replied with an air of finality. He had no wish to dwell longer on the subject of Wickham, especially with a person to whom perhaps the worst of his actions was still unknown.
"Well, I only hope you won't be disappointed. I hate to think of Anne's child, raised by such a young, inexperienced woman as Catherine Bennet."
"You do recall that you handed her over to me and refused your assistance in raising her on the grounds that I should soon marry. The choice of a wife was left entirely to me."
"I relied on you choosing someone on a social level with yourself. That girl hasn't got a drop of noble blood in her veins. And you the son of an earl."
"That is quite enough!" he said, slamming a fist down on the desk and turning angrily. "Lady Catherine, you have been very generous to me and I will not turn you out of what has been your home on your last day here, but by George neither will I tolerate any more of this kind of talk about my wife."
She gave him no reply besides a slight sniff and soon after left the room.
Richard could not bring himself to go to Kitty until the passing of a full hour had abated his temper somewhat. He did not want her to know that Lady Catherine disapproved so thoroughly of her. She would have a hard-enough time for the next few weeks as it was.
When he did go in search of her he found her standing bewilderedly in the middle of the sitting room.
She turned a face full of woe upon him. "Richard, they want me to decide where everything goes and what to have for dinner too. The Collins are coming, and Lady Catherine is here, and I've never seen to dinner for anyone but you and I yet, and goodness knows I don't know where that chair should go."
He hid his smile under a sympathetic demeanor as he crossed the room and put his arms around her. "Don't distress yourself Kitty. Rosings' cook will know quite well how to manage. Just ask her what she has on hand, engage her in a conversation about it, and she'll do the rest. As for the furniture, nothing need be decided yet. We can take as long as we need to get settled." He stroked her hair gently.
"Thank you," she whispered. She pulled away from him, straightened her shoulders and raised her chin, defiant of chairs and dinners alike.
"That's my girl," he said, giving her shoulders a final reassuring squeeze.
Lady Catherine removed to her London house within a few days. Richard watched her go with mixed feelings. She took the personality of the house with her and left it empty. But he chose to hope and believe that the house would soon have a new character—that of a happy and beloved home.
Mr. Collins was a thorn in his side that was not so easy to do away with. The clergyman came to Rosings the day after Lady Catherine's departure and behaved in such a fawning and obnoxious manner to his new employer that Richard, who was used to the blunt, honest comradery of the army, felt liable to tear his own hair out before the interview was at an end.
Only one thing kept him from requesting the bishop to transfer Mr. Collins that very evening. That thing was his wife's affection for Charlotte Collins. Kitty had always been closer to Maria Lucas than Charlotte, but now she found comfort in the presence of a woman she had known all her life, and whom she was not ashamed to ask advice of. Charlotte seemed to truly value Kitty's confidence and she often brought Henrietta, now nearly two years old, to play in the nursery while Kitty tended to six-month-old Cathy and the two women visited pleasantly.
When Lizzy arrived home from her stay at Highwood Manor the first thing she did was rush from the carriage through the light smattering of rain, and then hurry upstairs to see her son. She opened the nursery door and saw him standing on chubby legs by the window, clapping his little hands and babbling, "Mama! Mama!" with dependable Rosa, who must have told him she was coming, sitting nearby.
"I'm here William," Lizzy called, stretching out her arms to him.
He turned, saw her and ran for her as fast as he could on his wobbly little legs still calling, "Mama!"
She scooped him up before he could throw himself into her arms and possibly hurt his unborn sibling.
"My baby," she whispered. "I missed you so much."
He was squirming in delight so much that she was forced to put him down again.
"I'll stay with him for the evening Rosa. Thank you."
The trustworthy nurse bobbed her head and left the room to get some much-needed rest, for William was very active now and Mrs. Darcy had not been home to share the burden of watching him every moment.
Fitzwilliam came in and was greeted in much the same way as Elizabeth had been by his son and heir. Elizabeth watched the two curly dark heads, bent over some toy which William insisted on showing his father, and felt very blessed indeed.
Georgiana entered quietly and, after welcoming Elizabeth home with a sisterly hug, sat down beside her. The two talked of Jane's little girl and what domestic events had taken place at Pemberley during the month Elizabeth had been at Highwood Manor, while Darcy tumbled about the floor with his little boy, for the nursery was one place where he could lay aside for a time his troubles and responsibilities as master of Pemberley.