Chapter 6

Darcy sent an express to Derbyshire, and soon after, Sister Augustine and Evie arrived in one of Darcy's coaches, escorted by a footman. As Roberts predicted, the nun took Elizabeth's obstinate behaviour in hand, and insisted that she at least eat well and take some rest regularly. Evie spent much of her time sitting quietly with Elizabeth while she worked, or with Mrs Bennet who had taken an interest in the girl, and had begun advising her on improving her stitching.

Georgiana spent time with Evie as well, assisting her with the lessons assigned to her by Sister Augustine, and giving her lessons in pianoforte and French. Her East End accent was rapidly disappearing. Like Wilson, she spoke with a light East End lilt, but she made an effort to suppress it and speak "The Queen's English" as much as possible. Elizabeth, Richard, and everyone who remembered the girl from the situation with Wickham were amazed by her progress.

Richard and Darcy went with Mr Gardiner to Longbourn, and forced Mr Bennet to sign over irrevocable guardianship of Lydia to Gardiner and Darcy, to set Elizabeth and Mrs Bennet's minds at ease regarding the girl's safety. Mr Bennet offered no objection. He had what he wanted. The only thing the gentleman had desired was the thirty thousand pounds he felt that he was owed by his eldest daughter, and he had been willing to do anything to obtain such a large sum. Now that he had it, he had absolutely no interest in his family, nor even his estate.

When the gentlemen had left Longbourn, Bennet boarded his own carriage and left his estate to visit friends in Oxford without any indication of when or if he would return. Bennet had never wanted Longbourn, nor had he been raised with any expectation of inheriting. His father had been generous, and had allowed him to pursue a scholar's education rather than expecting him to join the military or clergy, and had even paid a man to serve in Bennet's place, but the loss of his father and elder brother to the same epidemic of influenza had necessitated the abandonment of his life as a scholar. If he had sired an heir, he might have attended his duties better, but since his heir had never appeared he rarely felt obligated to attend to his duties. Now that he had ample funds, he could disregard the responsibilities of Longbourn, and live comfortably among his friends in Oxford. He took up temporary residence with a friend there, and began living the life he had always desired.

When news of Kitty's fate reached Derbyshire, Aunt Josephine took to her rooms and did not come out for days, such was her grief for her young niece. Of course it could not be Marianne's fault specifically. However, Mrs Dashwood could not help but feel that if her daughter had not met that young gentleman in secrecy, her niece would never have been endangered to such a degree. Marianne of course cared nothing for Kitty's fate, and did not even respond on the matter when it was related to her by Mrs Ferrars. Marianne's only concern was that Willoughby had married, and it was not to herself. She refused to believe the news or the announcement in the paper.

Determined to learn the truth herself, Marianne ran away from Miss Crane and the parsonage, and walked the many miles to Maplewood. She was turned away at the door, told that the viscount and viscountess were away on their wedding trip, and the house was closed. She wandered for two days after that, through rain and freezing cold. Colonel Brandon and Mr Ferrars, along with a Maplewood gamekeeper, found her on the third day, soaked from rain and quite nearly dead with fever, in a hunting cabin on Maplewood lands. Upon her return to the parsonage, Miss Crane declared that Miss Marianne was wild, and beyond all redemption. The no-nonsense woman resigned her post, and returned to her little cottage in Kympton. Elizabeth paid little attention to the letters from Delaford and Pemberley. As disinterested in Marianne's fate as Marianne was in Kitty's, Elizabeth's only concern was to find her sister.

As anyone could have predicted, Elizabeth's time came early. Sister Augustine announced that even if the shock of Kitty's kidnapping had not upset her and caused great strain, she was certain Elizabeth was carrying twins, and twins would come early. This was the first Darcy had heard about the possibility of twins, and the poor man nearly fainted at the news. Mr Roberts was sent for, and young William Collins, Diane, Georgiana, and Lydia were bundled into a carriage, and sent to the Gardiners with their nurses. Charlotte and Evie assisted Sister Augustine in the birthing room, while Mrs Bennet, who still needed to rest her ankle, waited with Mary and Richard for news.

Surprising no one other than the nun, Elizabeth demanded Darcy's presence in the birthing chamber, and would not let him leave her sight. "Now, Lady Darcy, it was one thing last time when your husband was a physician, but this one has no business in the room!" Sister Augustine insisted, scandalised by Elizabeth's demands.

"I thank you for your concern, Sister, but he has brought me to this, and he will very well lend me his strength rather than get drunk with his cousin!" Elizabeth retorted stubbornly. She could not be brought to rest in bed through her pains, and when Will had produced a birthing chair from the attic at Darcy House the week before, Elizabeth had demanded that he have the cursed thing burnt immediately, so that neither she nor some poor unsuspecting future Darcy wife could ever be tortured by it.

Instead of retiring to the bed in the birthing room, Elizabeth would insist on walking up and down the portrait gallery for hours, holding onto Will for strength, her cries echoing through the house. The midwife assured Darcy that though it seemed extreme, Sir Christopher had always insisted that women who walked through their pains usually gave birth much faster and easier and she had seen enough evidence to agree.

After some hours, Elizabeth told Sister Augustine of the intense pressure she suddenly felt down below and after an examination, the sister declared the time to push had arrived. Mr Roberts waited nearby with Mrs Bennet and Richard for another hour and a half, until finally, the first cry was heard. Richard patted Mrs Bennet's hand, and topped up her glass of canary as she wept with joy upon hearing the infant cry. Some minutes later, Darcy came out of the chamber beaming. "It is a boy! And Elizabeth is well!" he exclaimed joyfully, embracing everyone in the room including a bemused Mr Roberts.

Mr Roberts was called in a while later to examine the young chap and came out again rather quickly when Elizabeth's pains began again, and she began to cry out in earnest. "There is definitely another one coming, old boy. You want to get back in there before you find yourself out of favour," he said to Darcy as Elizabeth's cries rang out into the hall. Mrs Bennet was near hysteria with nerves as Elizabeth's cries began again. After the ordeal of the first delivery, she had no strength left for walking through the pains, and it was some hours before another wail was heard. This cry was much louder, much more insistent than the one before it and refused to be comforted for some time. Moments later, Darcy emerged to say with a wide grin, "My daughter makes her sentiments known much more forcefully than her brother." Cries of congratulations and happiness rang out as Richard pressed a well-earned glass of brandy into his cousin's hand.

Darcy, who could not believe his good fortune, drank deeply, and then slightly inebriated after imbibing on an empty stomach, sent messages to Matlock House, the Hexhams, the Gardiners, Netherfield, Windmere, and Pemberley. Wine was dispersed amongst the servants to toast the new additions to the family, and once Elizabeth and the babes were cleaned up and tended to, he led the Fitzwilliams and Mrs Bennet into the room for a short visit. Mrs Bennet wept again with happiness, and Richard declared the new boy and girl fine specimens of Darcy lineage, and then he and his wife took their leave, and returned to their home to catch up with the Darcys. Mary was quite impressed by her husband's dedication to matching his cousin, and told him that if they did not have two babes of their own by the end of the following year, she would be all astonishment.

Very early the next morning, before London was awake, Darcy visited the churchyard where Sir Christopher Astley was interred. He stood before the grave, gazing furtively about the misty dawn to ensure he was alone before he spoke. "I want to thank you for everything you taught her," he said, haltingly. "Her ideas about everything are so different from what most of society believes is right. Through most of her pregnancy, I thought she was mad, taking so much exercise, declining all wine, making the cook boil water. She made me burn the family birthing chair." he shook his head and laughed abruptly. "Dozens of Darcys born from it, myself included, and we burned it in the garden last week. The day I found her climbing the stairs for exercise, I nearly went mad myself, particularly after having watched my mother lose so many babes.

"Last night when she finished her labours, she told me she would always be grateful to you for everything you taught her about being strong and clean and healthy, for she believes the knowledge has brought her safely through the birth of three children, and I agree. Your name was spoken many times last night as she laboured, by herself, by the midwife, by your friend Mr Roberts, of your medical genius and all of your good advice.

"She was lucky to have had you for a husband, and I am sorry for you that you had so little time with her. But I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for everything she learned from you that has helped her, and has made our family strong and healthy. This day, the day after the birth of my own two children, I vow to you that I will raise your daughter with all the love and care that I will give my own, and that she will know of you, and be proud of your legacy." After the most sentimental speech Darcy had ever made to anyone save his wife, and to a dead man no less, Darcy turned awkwardly away and returned home to his family.

*****

Elizabeth would not adhere to the Darcy tradition of naming the eldest son after his mother's family. She insisted her father deserved no such notice, so the twins were named Richard Fitzwilliam Christopher Darcy and Anne Louise Catherine Darcy. Darcy had insisted when questioned why he would give the name of his wife's late husband to his son, that he owed the man a debt, and would not comment further. Elizabeth was the only person he shared his reasons with. She was incredibly touched by his sentiments, and agreed wholeheartedly. Richard and one of Elizabeth's Hexham cousins were asked to stand as godparents to Baby Richard, and Elizabeth's Uncle Gardiner and Mary were asked to stand as godparents for Baby Anne. Both babes were a contrast to Diane's pale blonde curls, having a shocking amount of dark hair. The shape of both babes' eyes was Elizabeth's, yet they remained a piercing blue, like their father's.

Christmas came and nearly went unacknowledged, shortly after the birth of the twins. If it had not been for Georgiana and Lydia's efforts, one might not have known it was Christmas at all. When Georgiana realised Elizabeth was not thinking of the festive season, the young ladies began planning the holidays and decorating the house in earnest, Georgiana introducing Lydia to Elizabeth's household journals, and such was their commitment to being as helpful as they could, that one might never have known that Elizabeth herself had not planned it all, or that it had been done in haste.

Lydia only participated for Diane's sake, for she cared nothing for the season in Kitty's absence. Georgiana had kept in touch with Mrs Hayes and Granny Rose at Pemberley, and ensured that the holidays would be properly observed at Pemberley, and the boxes for the servants and tenants were prepared and sufficiently grand. Gifts were sent for the family at home, and everything would be done according to Elizabeth's exacting standards, even if Pemberley's mistress had no heart for it just then.

Elizabeth could not bear the happy celebration on Christmas Day. Everything was wonderful, and she did her best to make the morning happy for Diane and the young ladies, but after the feast, when the Gardiners and the Hexhams and Matlocks and Fitzwilliams were all making merry in the drawing room, she crept away and returned to her study to review all of her notes again, searching for some clue she might have missed.

After a time, she looked up as someone laid a cup of tea beside her on the desk. She started, not having noticed that anyone had entered the room, and looked up to find her stepmother, who was finally able to walk again with the help of a stick, looking down at her with misty eyes. "I cannot bear it either, Lizzy. The merrymaking," Mrs Bennet confided. "How can we celebrate Christmas when we do not know where she is?"

Elizabeth broke down and wept, and as she and Mrs Bennet embraced each other, Lydia and Mary crept into the room and joined them. Darcy looked in a while later. When he found them together, he withdrew, leaving the ladies to comfort each other. When he returned to the drawing room, Lord Hexham and Richard inquired as to Elizabeth's and Mary's whereabouts, and Darcy told them that the celebratory atmosphere was too much for Elizabeth and her family, who were still in fear for Kitty.

Charlotte made sure to send a tray of biscuits, chocolate, and other festive treats to the ladies, and Elizabeth spent the rest of the evening studying all of the information she had compiled while Mary, Lydia, and Mrs Bennet sat vigil with her, thinking about Kitty and praying that she was safe, that she knew her family loved and missed her, and that she knew they were searching for her.

*****

Far away, a young lady sat listlessly in a comfortable chair in a lovely apartment of rooms. The nurse who had been charged with her care had been dismissed, and she was now in the sole charge of a previous young upstairs maid who had been rapidly promoted far above her skills and expectations, to a sort of combined lady's maid and jailer. The maid had been told that her new mistress was impulsive and had a nervous condition, and must take a tonic for her nerves or she might accidentally cause harm to herself. She was weaned off of the laudanum, and put on a new tonic from the apothecary that made her very serene and docile, but not significantly intoxicated like the laudanum had. The maid was assured by the master that it was not addictive as laudanum was, though the maid had no notion of its contents.

The maid felt pity for the young woman, who did not even seem to know or care that it was Christmas, and she wondered about the cause of her nervous complaint, but she was too afraid to lower the dose of the tonic. His lordship's new wife, who never spoke her first name, or of her previous life, if at all, was an extremely quiet young woman with an air of sadness about her, and scarcely ever spoke. She did not seem to have a nervous condition that the maid could discern, but that might only be the tonic doing its work, the maid reckoned. Still, she was lucky for this promotion. It would help her family, and the maid would not see the young lady endangered in any way, and so followed her master's instructions implicitly.

The elderly husband said that his new wife would be safest if she did not have the run of the house, or the ability to leave the manor alone. Socialising was out of the question, so the entire second floor of the house was being refurnished, to provide her ladyship with an entire floor of rooms in which to live safely. Two rooms on opposite sides of the house were outfitted as a small dining room and breakfast parlour. There was a music room and a sitting room, and a number of other rooms on that floor would wait until the lady's husband learned more about her interests. The estate boasted a rare delight, a walled butterfly garden, with a hidden locked gate. This would be the area in which her ladyship would be allowed to exercise out of doors.