In the Family Way

By Amy Keene

Jump to new as of August 22, 1999

Posted on Saturday, 14 August 1999

A sequel to "Pride and Prejudice"

More than a year had passed since Elizabeth and Darcy had married, and an unspoken tension seemed to be growing between them. It was due mostly to the fact that Elizabeth had not conceived, although neither of them knew why. It was certainly not from a lack of ardour on the part of either one of them, since they had not spent a night apart since their wedding day. Darcy suspected that it was the continual flow of guests in and out of Pemberley that somehow (although he could hardly explain it) upset his wife's childbearing abilities. Elizabeth thought little of it, as busy as she was, but some days the thought would cross her mind that she would very much like to have a baby.

Often at night, when Elizabeth had fallen asleep against him, Darcy would gingerly put his hand on her stomach. It was still as flat as the day he had married her, and not a trace of a flutter inside. Perhaps there was something wrong with all of these Bennet girls, since none of them had a baby yet. (Although he thought it most fortunate that Wickham and Lydia had not reproduced themselves.)

That is, until Charles, flushed with pride and overwhelmed with joy, announced that Jane was three months gone with their child. Darcy was truly happy for them, as was Elizabeth, but they each wished that it was themselves bearing happy news. Their longing was compounded by the arrival of a letter announcing that Charlotte had just delivered a second child and her first son.

"Look-that fool Collins has two children now," Darcy said, absently poking at the remains of his breakfast.

"And just think-I could be Mrs. Collins and the mother of two wholly unattractive children!" Elizabeth replied, arranging the pillows on their bed. "Thank Heaven I had the courage to refuse him!"

"Yes, I'm glad you did. But would you not like to have a child or two? I know I would, if they were yours."

"Of course! I do wish God would see fit to bless me with one-it would make all of us so happy. I can't begin to imagine how delighted Georgiana would be."

The thought of giving his sister a little niece or nephew to fuss over obviously pleased Darcy, because he suddenly became very attentive toward Elizabeth, kissing her shoulders and tugging at her dress.

"Come, darling, it's the middle of the day!" Elizabeth protested, although not very strongly. "What shall the servants think?"

"I don't care what they think," he said between kisses.

Six weeks later, something very strange began to happen to Elizabeth. She was dreadfully ill every morning, but completely recovered by afternoon. Darcy was frantic and immediately sent for a doctor, but the maids nodded in silent agreement. The doctor confirmed what they already knew-Elizabeth would soon bear an heir to Pemberley.

Georgiana squealed with delight when they told her; she completely forgot all of her ladylike manners and behaved like an ecstatic little girl.

"Oh, this is wonderful!" she cried, her eyes shining like two bright pennies and cheeks as pink as rosebuds. "I shall have a nephew...or a niece! Oh, Fitzwilliam, what will you call it? I shall go straight-away to work on some gowns and caps for it-it will be the sweetest thing you ever saw!"

Jane, already far gone in her own pregnancy, was quietly delighted as always.

"I'm so glad we've been able to share all of our happinesses together," she said. "I saw how worried you and Darcy were when you thought everyone was going to have children but you. And you and Darcy, above all, deserve to have children. Oh Lizzy, you can't imagine how close you'll become to your husband! I didn't think that Charles and I could love one another any more than we did, but since I've been this way, it's so much more romantic to just sit in front of the fire together, to read poetry, to play the piano...everything! It's all so beautiful-I can't imagine how it will be after our baby is born."

No one had bothered to tell Caroline Bingley the glad news, so when she arrived for one of her periodic visits to flutter about Darcy and his sister, she was completely repulsed. She seemed to visibly shudder in disgust when she looked at Elizabeth's swollen middle, which was now impossible to hide under her shawl. She gaped in repugnance at the sweet, gentle manner in which Darcy treated Elizabeth; the loving touches, the little pats on the stomach. Caroline seemed most offended by the fact that Georgiana did not want to talk of feathers and furbelows, but smocking and baby ribbon. Georgiana insisted on showing her every piece of tiny clothing she had made, and prospecting on names. Caroline kept throwing Elizabeth evil glares across the room, and Elizabeth drove the knife deeper by turning to Darcy and smiling sweetly. Darcy patted Elizabeth's hand, which was lying across her protruding middle.

"She looks exactly like a spider sitting in a web of envy," Elizabeth thought to herself, and nearly started laughing. (In bed that night, she told Darcy what she had been thinking, and he laughed until the bedpost rattled.)

The next morning, Caroline made as if she were in a hurry to leave, and went away with barely two words to anyone. Georgiana seemed very upset as she watched the carriage pull away, and said: "Elizabeth, I think something was very amiss. Last night when I passed Caroline's room, I heard her crying. And she seemed so distracted last night, and of such sad countenance!"

Elizabeth hooked her arm in her sister-in-law's as they walked toward the house, and told her exactly what was wrong with the odious Miss Bingley.

"Oh, how very improper of her!" Georgiana exclaimed. "My brother is a married man, and with you in your condition...and all that time, I thought she was here to see me!"

"Don't feel too sad, Georgiana. She wasn't really your friend."

"Certainly not! Not if she was using my companionship so that she could be near my brother-I just can't believe that she would be so unladylike to even think of it!"

"Perhaps she's hoping that I'll die in childbirth," Elizabeth said flippantly. "And then Darcy will need a new wife to raise his child, and there she will be!"

Georgiana turned utterly pale. "Oh please, don't even say it! I don't know what I shall do if you-if you-"

"Come now, nothing will happen!" Elizabeth cried. "I was just being facetious-don't be upset! There's no need for tears! The doctor said everything will be fine!"

The girl wiped her tears, but did not look comforted.

Later that day, Elizabeth had a talk with Darcy about it.

"Would you please speak with Georgiana? I made a silly statement about Caroline Bingley waiting for me to die in childbirth so she could marry you, and now she's convinced I'm going to die. I don't know what to tell her."

"That was hardly something to make jokes about," Darcy said sternly, with the same look of pale concern his sister had. "You shouldn't have even mentioned such a thing."

"I know, darling, and I regret it. Please don't be cross with me. Just reassure Georgiana that I'll be fine, and Caroline Bingley won't marry you and take my baby."

"I'll see what I can do. But I have no idea what I can say that will make her feel better." He looked about nervously. "I don't know that I don't need some reassuring myself."

"Oh, Will, no!" Elizabeth cried, throwing her arms around his neck. She took his hand and put it right where the baby was moving. "Feel that. Feel how strong the baby is. Look at me. You know better than I the width of my hips and the strength of my body. I'll not leave you alone."

Elizabeth woke the next morning, physically exhausted but spiritually refreshed following a night of tears, reaffirmations, and a newfound closeness between the two of them. She found under the door a tiny piece of paper which read: "Dear sister Elizabeth, I have decided that if the Lord should decide to take you when your time comes (and I pray that he is merciful and will not,) I will take your child and raise it as if it were my own. Therefore, my brother will not have to seek another wife, and you could rest in peace knowing that your babe would have a mother who loves it. Your devoted sister, Georgiana Darcy."

Elizabeth's heart filled with love for her sister-in-law, and her eyes filled with tears. What a sweet girl!

Her reverie was interrupted by the voice of a maid calling frantically outside the door. "Mrs. Darcy! Mrs. Darcy! There's a man here with an important message for you!"

She grabbed Darcy's dressing gown and put it on, carefully gathering it over her arm so she would not trip. She scrambled down the stairs (as quickly as a woman in her sixth month could go,) to find a man, completely out of breath, at the door.

"Mrs. Darcy?" he panted. "I have a message from Mr. Charles Bingley. This morning, his wife Jane was delivered of a son. He says to tell you that she and the baby are fine, and they wish to see you soon. Oh yes, and the boy's name is Charles Philip."

"Oh!" Elizabeth gasped, unable to think of anything to say. "Thank you, sir! Mrs. Reynolds, give him some money. Darcy! Georgiana! Everyone wake up! We have joyous news!"

"What is it?" Georgiana asked, peering over the banister. Darcy was behind her, carefully wrapped in a blanket.

"Jane's child has been born-a son! He's called Charles Philip, and they're both very well!"

"How wonderful!" Georgiana exclaimed, her curls tied up in rags bobbing ridiculously. "I do wish we could visit them."

"Come now, Georgiana, Elizabeth is no condition to travel thirty miles in a jouncing carriage," Darcy said. "And I do wish she would stop running up and down stairs."

Elizabeth made a pouty face. "Aren't you even going to say that you're happy for them, Darcy?"

"Well of course I'm happy for them," he replied, his dimple appearing in his cheek. "But that does not stop me form worrying. Not until our child is here, and safely, too.

Eight weeks passed, and but four remained until Elizabeth's child would be born. Quite unexpectedly, Charles and Jane arrived at Pemberley one afternoon, a tiny blond bundle in Jane's arms. It was so unexpected that Elizabeth was taking her afternoon nap when they arrived, and was the last of the household to see her new nephew.

"Was it really safe to travel so soon, Jane?" Elizabeth asked as they were taking tea alone in her room.

"Oh, I'm completely recovered now. When Charles Philip was nary a month old, I was ready to leave. I became very bored lying in bed all day, hence the long letters I wrote."

"I can't bear the thought of being abed for so long! Darcy has insisted that I have a nap every afternoon, although the doctor didn't suggest it, and I hardly feel that I need it. I feel better now than when I was but a few months gone. Now I only wish that these next few weeks would pass quickly. I feel like I've been this way for a century!"

"I won't lie to you, Lizzy-it's only beautiful when it's over. I was so frightened and so alone-I wished that you, or mother, or any woman in the family could have been there. It was so frightening because I didn't know what was happening, and no one would tell my anything."

"Oh, Jane, I'm so sorry. Had I known, I would have come."

"I would not dream of asking. It is hardly something for a woman near to having her own child to see. But you'll be fortunate-I'll be here for you."

"Tell me, please: is it very bad? Is it very painful?"

"It's rather like the first time with your husband-the joy and the beauty of it make you forget the pain. However, a baby being born cannot be gentle, as a husband can."

"Do you think I'll have any problems? Poor Georgiana is convinced that I'm going to die, and now Darcy is worried sick, too. Hence my 'daily rest,' as he calls it."

"Well, you're bigger than I was at eight months, but both you and Darcy are built larger than Charles and I. Do you think you might have twins?"

"I hadn't thought of it, but I don't believe so. It doesn't feel like I have more than one baby, and I don't know of any twins in Darcy's family or in ours. No, I think I'm just carrying one rather large baby."

In the next few weeks, all of the things for the baby were brought out, dusted off, and repaired-the Darcy family cradle that had been used for nearly a century, the christening robe that Lady Anne had made for her son, and an attractive rocking chair that Elizabeth thought would be perfect for their bedchamber. (Against tradition, Elizabeth decided that the baby should sleep in the same room with her, at least for the first few weeks.) When they were not sewing and fussing over the baby's things, all of the attention was showered on Charles Philip, who was continually in someone's arms. Even Darcy, who endeavored to learn how to hold a child, could be seen with the tiny infant cradled in his large arms.

After all of the waiting, Elizabeth's labor finally began right on schedule. The week before, she had a false alarm, and the whole house was on tenterhooks. But this time, when the doctor was called out, he pronounced that the child was indeed on its way. Georgiana, Darcy, and Charles sat down to a few hands of cards, expecting that the baby would be born quickly. But as Darcy dealt hand after hand, hour after hour passed. Georgiana became bored and moved to the divan to read and, before long, her curls were drooping over the pages, sound asleep. Darcy took to pacing back and forth across the parlor, arms akimbo.

"Did it take so long with your wife?" Darcy asked, twisting the signet ring on his little finger.

"I'm afraid so," Charles replied. "The doctor was there all night, and Charles Philip didn't come until the next morning."

"I am beginning to wonder if we should have sent Georgiana away, perhaps to London. I wonder that all of this may be too taxing for her," Darcy said, mostly to himself.

Several more hours passed. Georgiana retired to her room on her brother's advice, protesting through her yawns. Darcy and Charles tried in vain to play chess, but they were too tired and Darcy too distraught to enjoy it. Around midnight, Darcy was asleep, lying supine on the divan, and Charles was asleep in his chair. Jane, looking very tired, came in with a candelabra, and they awoke to the light.

"What is it?" Darcy demanded as soon as he had his wits. "Is the child born? Is Elizabeth well?"

"No, the child isn't born yet," Jane replied quietly. "Elizabeth's resting now, as are we. She's hardly any closer now than when she started."

"Is this normal? Is there something wrong?"

"No, no, Mr. Darcy. It's only that the child is very large, and she's having some difficulty. The doctor said that she will be able to birth it, however, without any imminent danger to her health or the child's. It will just take time."

He knew not whether to be pleased or upset. He felt tormented inside, feeling that if she should die it would be all his fault because he had wanted a child so badly.

"Would it be acceptable to see her?"

"I don't see why not. She calls out for you, so I believe that it would comfort her to see you."

He followed Jane up to their bedchamber, and he went in with his heart in his throat. It was hot and close inside, and Darcy felt that his clothes were creeping on his body. Elizabeth looked tiny in the middle of the bed, covered up to her chin. She was very pale, and her eyelids, though closed, fluttered restlessly.

"Elizabeth," Jane said softly, "Darcy is here to see you."

She opened her eyes and, seeing him, a shadow of a smile crossed her lips. With all of the strength she could muster, she raised her hand toward her husband and said weakly, "Will."

He grabbed her hand, encasing it in his. "I'm here, darling. I'm so sorry you have to suffer this way..."

"Don't," Elizabeth said. "It's not your fault."

Darcy was overcome with emotion and put his head down on the bed, weeping like he'd never done before. Elizabeth put her hand on his head, comforting him when he was supposed to be comforting her. She began to cry as well, and Jane did not know what to do. They were weeping from fear and fatigue, and Jane felt that they had every right to do so.

"Please, Will, go and sleep," Elizabeth finally said. "I can't see you cry. I'll be fine. Don't worry. Go and sleep."

He nodded sadly, and held her hand tightly for a moment longer. He went out into the hall and installed himself on a settee. Then, for the first time since he was three, he cried himself to sleep.

Jane looked joyous when she awoke her brother-in-law the next morning. He was stiff from the uncomfortable position he had slept in, he was unshaven, and his eyes were matted together with tears.

"Mr. Darcy, it's over! Elizabeth has something to show you!"

Darcy felt as if a weight had been lifted off his soul, and he floated into the chamber. Elizabeth was propped up on a bevy of pillows, a tiny head as black as coal at her breast. She smiled widely when she saw him, with barely a trace of fatigue.

"Come see your son," she said, exuding joy. Darcy sat down on the bed, all agog. Elizabeth pulled the boy's mouth away from his feeding, and he smacked his little pink lips, waving his fists about and screwing up his face. "Ah, is he not a Darcy?"

Darcy's tears were now tears of joy. He was so astonished that he couldn't say a word. He merely stared at the red face that was a tiny version of his own.

"Would you like to hold him?" she asked. He looked astonished, as if he had never imagined holding his son. The child carefully changed hands, and was soon nestled comfortably in his father's arms. The boy opened his milky-blue eyes and appeared to be looking right at Darcy, whose heart was bursting with more love for his wife and child than could be imagined.

"Darcy, have you decided on a name for him?" Elizabeth asked, breaking his reverie. "I thought we might call him George Fitzwilliam, out of respect for your dear sister who has done so much for us."

"George Fitzwilliam Darcy," he repeated, as if trying it on the boy for size. "Yes, I believe it suits him well. And Georgiana will be ecstatic to hear he's named for her."

Posted on Sunday, 22 August 1999

Author's Note: In case I don't get around to finishing this story anytime soon, here is the list of the children of Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy who will be popping up:

1. George Fitzwilliam Darcy, born 1815.
2. Arabella Elizabeth Darcy, born 1817.
3. Anna Mary Darcy, born 1820.
4. Cecilia Alice Darcy, born 1821.
5. Redmond Bennet Darcy, born 1822.
6. Julia Louise Darcy, born 1825.
7. Thomas Benjamin Darcy, born 1826.
8. Clarissa Margaret Darcy, born 1828.

Darcy turned out to be the most model father, insisting on being involved in all aspects of his son's life. He watched intently as the boy's diapers were changed, and to the amusement of Elizabeth and Georgiana, he was soon doing it himself. He often fell asleep rocking the boy in the chair that Elizabeth had brought down from the attic. Although the baby slept in the Darcy cradle by day, because of the cold winter nights, Darcy insisted that the child sleep nestled between he and Elizabeth in their bed. It did not bother him that the boy awakened every few hours to be fed, or cried out in his sleep-Darcy would merely sing softly to his son until he was quiet again. The nurse, a simple country girl, stood idly in the corner, looking as if she did not know what to do with herself. The only time she had charge of little George (or Young Darcy, as he was quickly becoming known,) was when both parents and aunt were away.

Young Darcy spent all of his waking hours being fussed over and doted upon by Georgiana. She spoiled him terribly, calling him "my George" and giving him more attention than any baby in the whole of England. Elizabeth tried to warn her what would happen if she did not teach him to play on his own and constantly held him, but taking care of the boy made Georgiana feel useful and important.

One afternoon, when George was nearing his first birthday, Elizabeth found herself falling asleep over a letter she had been attempting to write. As her head began to fall, she jerked awake and found that she had made a large inkblot in the middle of the paper.

"Fiddlesticks!" she mumbled, trying to clean up the mistake.

Darcy, who was reading a book, looked up at his wife with concern. "What is it, Lizzy?"

"Nothing-it's just that I was beginning to fall asleep and made a blot on my letter. I don't know why, but I've been so tired lately!"

"Probably looking after the baby has made you fatigued, my dear."

Elizabeth made a face of annoyance at him. "Come now, William. You know that George spends every waking hour either attended by Georgiana or his nurse. I hardly get to hold my own child anymore. I haven't even been able to feed him in two weeks!"

"Now that is something that neither Georgiana nor that sallow nurse can do. How is it possible?"

"George is being put on cow's milk now, because I can't feed him anymore. It isn't possible, my love," she said, trying to convey her meaning without telling him outright that her milk had suddenly gone dry.

"I told you we should have had a wet nurse from the first day," he said matter-of-factly, returning to the pages of his book.

"I don't care for wet nurses. It would make me feel like less of a mother, and if it weren't for feeding him, I should never see George at all. They all seem so dirty, anyhow. Would you want a dirty nurse feeding your son, or me?"

"Of course you know what my answer is," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Have you spoken to the doctor about it yet? Is that normal for you to suddenly-um, suddenly stop-being able to feed him?"

"I don't really know. I should speak to him, though, since I've felt perfectly horrid for two weeks now. I've never been sick in my life, except when I was expecting George."

Darcy looked up at her suddenly. "Could you be-that way again?" he asked anxiously.

Elizabeth sat silent for a moment. "I didn't think it could happen again so soon-George is not even a year old yet! But I suppose I could be..."

"Goodness gracious, Lizzy, come and lie down!" he said, tossing his book aside and leading her to a little brocade settee. "Did you not think of what might be happening? Did you not realize?"

"Oh Will, I've been so tired over the past few days that I've hardly had a complete thought," she sighed, allowing herself to be placed on the settee.

"We must send for the doctor right away. This is a serious matter!"

The doctor arrived later that day, assuring Darcy that his suspicions were correct, and Elizabeth was in the family way again.

"It's very normal for a woman in her condition to be tired for no visible reason," the old doctor said, peering at Darcy through his tiny spectacles. "She just needs rest, and plenty of it. Keep the little one away from her as much as possible-he'll only upset her."

Elizabeth wept when she heard that Young Darcy had to be kept away, since she felt that she was sacrificing one child for another.

"Come now, don't be so dramatic, Lizzy!" Georgiana told her. "I have everything under control with my George. Just rest, and be patient. This situation won't last forever."

"But if I have a baby every year it will!" Elizabeth sobbed.

Shortly after that, Elizabeth fell very ill. She was unable to eat because she vomited continuously; she developed a high fever; and she was so weak that getting out of bed was impossible. The doctor was very concerned, but could do little for her. Darcy spent every waking moment at his wife's side, fearing that she would take a turn for the worse. Jane came for a while to be with her, but had to return home because Charles Philip contracted a bad cold. Pemberley became a tense, sorrowful place, where the only laughter ever heard was George's, too young to understand that his mother was gravely ill. Darcy's guilty conscience was like a black cloud that enshrouded the entire estate. He took the blame for her illness and too-quick pregnancy upon himself, believing that his own lust had caused her sickness.

After several long, anxious months, when spring was making its first presence at Pemberley, Elizabeth rallied and quickly returned to her normal, healthy self. By this time, George was toddling around everywhere, and he and his mother began to take long, slow walks about the grounds. He was also talking continuously, most of it senseless, but with a few understandable words-"mama," "papa," and "Ana" were the most frequently heard. His resemblance to his father was uncanny, not only in physical features but also in mannerisms.

And as summer was turning into autumn, another dark-haired Darcy was brought into the world. This time, there were no tense hours of waiting-Elizabeth was having tea, began to have pains, and her child was born shortly after dinner. This time it was a daughter, considerably smaller and more delicate than her brother. Darcy chose the name for his little girl, calling her Arabella after his grandmother and giving her the second name Elizabeth in honor of all she had suffered to give birth to this tiny beauty.

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