Sharon Lathan - In the Arms of Mr. Darcy

“I will lay him down,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head. “Stay here, beloved.”

When he returned Lizzy was lying partially propped on several pillows, smiling warmly, and opening her arms to him. Instantly he experienced a rush of relief, nestling close and drawing her against his strongly beating heart.

She squeezed him tightly, voice choking and tremulous. “I am sorry if I distressed you. I guess I am still a bit out of sorts. So many changes these past weeks, with adjustments to my body so suddenly and profoundly. And then all the visitors. I am so happy to have them all here, but it is tiring.” She paused, resuming with a soft sob. “Mostly I want to be with you, truly and completely be with you, and I cannot. I am sorry.”

“Elizabeth, hush. You do not need to explain, as I already understand. Just kiss me and tell me you love me.” He cupped her dear face, pulling her upward so they could drink the other in.

“I love you, Fitzwilliam, with all my soul.”

He smiled, whispering just before claiming her mouth thoroughly in a kiss that would leave them both breathless and desperately wanting more, “That is all I ever need to know. I love you, Mrs. Darcy.”

Lizzy spent the next three days in the frustration of believing she would never manage to corner George alone. When it happened it was quite by accident. She entered the conservatory to pick flowers for Darcy’s dressing room and discovered the usually sociable man alone, stretched on a lounge chair under a ripening orange tree with a book in his hands.

Biting her lip, suddenly shy after seeking his undivided attention, she hesitated before slowly approaching.

“Dr. Darcy.”

Brows rising instantly, he replied, “Yes, Mrs. Darcy?”

Lizzy cleared her throat, glancing away from his unsettling and penetrating eyes. “I wished for your advice… medical advice, that is, on a matter of… some delicacy… and… well, a personal question if you take my meaning?” She was flushed nearly scarlet, with her eyes downcast.

“Have a seat, Elizabeth. I honestly have no idea to what you refer, but I rather think after the events of the past weeks we should be beyond such embarrassments. Speak as plainly as you can, child, and I will do what I can to help. Are you experiencing some residual pain or other discomfort?”

She shook her head vigorously, glancing up briefly. “No, in fact quite the opposite. I feel fine… in all ways. None of the symptoms you or Mrs. Henderson instructed me to watch for. I feel good as new, I suppose I could say.”

“I see.” He studied her face, beginning to suspect the train of her thoughts. “So, I am to understand the cramping is all gone? Good. And no further drainage or tenderness from… very good. I detect no lingering fatigue, other than what is normal with a baby, and your overall appearance is consistent with a state of health and vigor. Do you agree?”

She nodded, hoping he would put the pieces together and spare her further humiliation, but he remained silent. “It is just… You know we rely a great deal on the book for information, and well…” Another glance to his inscrutable face after which she bolted up and began pacing, continuing in a rush. “The book recommends waiting for… for… relations”—swallow—“for six weeks or so, but also states ‘until the woman’s body is fully healed.’”

She stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him with hands on her hips and voice strong. “Well, which is it? I feel healed, but it is not six weeks, so… this is my question.” The gush of vim evaporated, voice falling into a whisper.

George’s lips twitched, but he managed to avoid laughing, holding out his hand instead. “Relax, Elizabeth. Sit down and I will give the advice I give all my maternity patients, although it is doubtful most of them listen to me. The truth is we do not know what is happening internally after birth. Physicians can only guess what course a couple should take as far as marital relations. There is no accurate answer that is the same for all, as each birth is varied and the effects equally so. However, the standard recommendation is to let your heart and body guide you. When you feel capable and desirous of such activity both physically and emotionally, then that is your answer. I can tell you this with absolute certainty: Many resume within a couple of weeks and I have never known there to be a problem unless an issue already existed which was aggravated by the action. Does this answer your query adequately?”

Lizzy could only nod. 

Christmas Eve day dawned with a brightly shining sun valiantly struggling to bestow heat onto the frozen lands, but sadly thwarted by persistent banks of gray clouds dotting the azure sky. It never did rain or snow, but the immobile clouds cast shadows all day. The mild weather would provide an excellent cap to what was universally agreed to be a fabulously successful week.

The tenant’s feast and ball was a triumph. From a raised dais in the formal dining hall, the Darcys welcomed their guests, Mr. Darcy giving a short speech of gratitude and well wishes for a merry holiday and prosperous coming year. Alexander, awake and awed by the glittering chandeliers, was presented formally to the families whose diligent work made his life possible, many of whom would someday call him Master. The applause was deafening, hurrahs rising to the eaves with Lizzy barely managing a dignified retreat before the startled babe burst into wails!

Calming the upset infant was accomplished easily enough, but the revelry from the first floor chambers would continue late into the night—another tradition successfully reestablished by the new Mistress of Pemberley and savored by all.

The tenant packages were delivered by Miss Darcy, Miss Kitty, and Miss Mary. Kitty came along for the ride, offering cheery chatter in between the scattered cottages. Georgiana kept the detailed list tight in her hand, fretting over making a mistake or stuttering over the practiced speeches. Mary was the steadying influence, this sort of task not at all unusual for her, as charity work through the Meryton Church was a duty she had delighted in for many years. Everyone understood why Mrs. Darcy could not appear in person this year, and since they had already met the infant heir at the feast, no one felt slighted.

A letter from the Bingleys heralded the arrival of Miss Bingley and the Hursts. Greetings were conveyed to the Bennets, the decision being to wait until Christmas day to visit. Jane was not feeling too well, although she hastened to add it only within the expected range of symptoms, and both she and Charles desired to spend their first Christmas at Hasberry. This was comprehended by all, and as no one was exactly thrilled by the concept of extended time with Caroline and her snobbish sister and boorish brother-in-law, tears were definitely not shed.

Elizabeth and Darcy joined the older members for a stroll along the south terrace. Lizzy tightly clutched her husband’s arm, not due to any unsteadiness but out of a pure desire to keep him close. Her conversation with George the previous morning had lightened her mood considerably, notable to all including Darcy, who had no idea the cause of her sudden ebullience, although it was he who would reap the greatest benefit! She avoided looking directly at the faintly smirking George, the doctor highly amused at her transparency.

“Mr. Darcy, do you imagine the fine trout will be biting this year as they did last?”

Darcy glanced to Mr. Gardiner with a smile. “I am quite certain they will. I am personally not fond of trout, so they are left greatly unmolested for the majority of the year. Help yourself, Mr. Gardiner.”

“Lizzy loves trout,” Mrs. Bennet declared. “She fished when young, always insisting on dining on her private catch. Do you remember, Edward?”

“Yes, I do. I taught her the rudimentary skills, although I seem to recall her having a penchant for falling into the lake rather than taking fish out of it.”

Lizzy laughed gaily with cheeks flushing prettily, but Darcy was peering at her with a faint scowl. “You never told me you liked trout. Why have you not had the kitchen prepare it for dinner?”

She shrugged, beaming up into her husband’s face. “It is not a favorite dish, William, and I know you dislike it. I guess a treat now and then would be nice, however.”

“Mrs. Langton will prepare more than one entrée if you order it so, dearest.”

“And the aroma of fresh trout will not send you screaming from the table as mutton surely would?” Her eyes twinkled as she teased, Darcy smiling wider and reaching to caress the hand resting on his arm.

“It is a large room. I can always sit at the opposite end.”

Mr. Bennet observed the unconsciously affectionate interplay with an inner fount of peace, never tiring of seeing his children’s happiness. How maudlin I am in my old age, he thought with a silent chuckle.

Mrs. Bennet was more oblivious to the romance. “Well, it is fortunate, Mr. Darcy, that Lizzy does not like mutton either! At least in that you will be spared any distress.”

They had reached the eastern end of the lengthy terrace, pausing to absorb the sparkling landscape of white with glistening fountain and waterfall, the Greek Temple rising in a glory of marbled stone on the hill. The jolly squeals of skaters were audible, floating from the distant, small pond that was hidden from view by snow-topped trees and hedges.

“How about it, Thomas?” Mr. Gardiner turned to his brother-in-law. “In for a spell of fishing? I tell you, the trout practically jump onto the hooks. It is divine.”

Mr. Bennet chuckled. “As long as you promise to maintain some awareness of the time. I have no desire to turn into an icicle.”

“Dr. Darcy? Care to try your luck yet again?”

“Do you suppose there is any way to build a fire near the edge of the pond?” The shivering man, bundled in two wool coats, turned to his nephew with a pleading expression.

Darcy laughed, shaking his head negatively. “Sorry. Mr. Clark would strangle you if you marred his landscaping or damaged the dormant lawns. Afraid you just need to be tough.”

“We can share a flask of brandy while we fish. That should help.”

George shuddered, sighing in resignation. “Thank you, Mr. Bennet, but I think I shall bring my own flask, just to be on the safe side.”

“You men enjoy yourselves. I, for one, am beginning to freeze already. Lizzy, Rose, care for a few hands of cards? You can bring Alexander for us to gush over and take turns holding.”

Lizzy smiled at her aunt, eyes glowing happily. “Sounds wonderful. William, do you yet intend to go for a ride with Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

Darcy nodded. “As soon as he is done cavorting as a juvenile.”

“I seem to remember a certain mature gentleman engaging in a fair amount of juvenile cavorting at the pond last year at this time, or so I was told,” Mrs. Gardiner remarked with a grin to Mr. Darcy, who flushed slightly and coughed.

“Well, yes, but it was all the doings of my devious wife who claimed to be a novice skater in dire need of assistance and rescue.”

“Lizzy a novice?” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “Why she has been on skates since she was three, although the winters are not as harsh as here and the skating opportunities fewer. Shame, Lizzy, deceiving your husband! What must you think of her, Mr. Darcy?”