Chapter 11

11

E lizabeth woke to the sound of thunder and a baby crying. The storm raging inside of her mirrored the one outside. Almost instantly, Molly was at her side.

“Would you care for something to eat before you see the babies? You have hot tea and a small repast waiting for you.”

“Who is in the nursery?” Rising, Elizabeth impatiently waited for the maid to help her dress.

“Mrs. Carter is feeding young master Bingley.” With a muted chuckle, the maid added, “Miss Clara is currently complaining because Cook was needed in the kitchen.”

Extraordinarily pleased at the attachment between the two, Elizabeth sat at the vanity. All stress drained from her the second Molly ran a bristled brush through her hair. To be ministered to in this way was glorious.

Sipping her tea and nibbling on one of Cook’s biscuits, she asked, “And Mr. Darcy?”

Without pausing, the maid continued her ministrations. “He is in his study with the colonel. Lord Matlock was also here but left not long ago. ”

“Hmm…” Elizabeth suspected that this would be a challenging meeting for all three of them. She remembered Colonel Fitzwilliam from Jane’s wedding. Although he was not nearly as tall and handsome as Mr. Darcy, he was a friendly and confident gentleman with a twinkle in his eye. She liked the little she knew of him immediately.

Mrs. Carter came to the door, holding little Charlie, interrupting Elizabeth’s reverie.

“He’s mighty hot, Mrs. Darcy, and is too weak to eat.”

Panic surged through her.

Heat radiated from Charlie’s forehead. Fear, unlike anything she had ever felt before, churned her stomach. Dismay squeezed her heart. Elizabeth sent her maid to call for her husband.

“Mrs. Carter, I know that for an older child, we would put him in an ice bath, but I cannot think that would be good for an infant.” Her words caught in her throat. “I do not know what to do.”

The widow said, “Perhaps if the water were merely lukewarm, it would help. I will loosen the bands surrounding him to get cooler air to his skin.”

Elizabeth was frantic with worry. When Molly returned, they put Charlie into a pan of tepid water, his skinny arms and legs limp. His fever persisted. His eyelids flickered but refused to open, no matter how often she called his name, begging him to fight whatever caused his suffering.

Cook burst into the room, pushing her sleeves up her beefy arms. Her hands were full of squares of soft cotton cloth. Tucked under her arm was a stoneware bowl.

“Mrs. Carter, ye need to squeeze out some milk into the bowl for the lad. We will soak the cloths to drip into his mouth since he’s too weak to suckle.”

Without hesitation, the wet nurse complied. As Elizabeth held Charlie afloat in the water, Molly and Cook took turns trying to get drops of precious milk into his mouth.

She prayed over and over that Charlie survived, begging God, swearing her full devotion to him if he would only keep Jane’s child alive. There had already been too much death. Surely, enough was enough, was it not?

Holding his head up, Elizabeth scooped water with her other hand, pouring it slowly over him.

She was unaware that Darcy arrived until she felt him at her shoulder. Relief that she was no longer alone was ridiculous since the nursery was filled with servants, Cook barking orders like a sergeant. Yet, Elizabeth was able to draw from his strength.

Turning her tear-stained eyes up to him, she pleaded, “Help us.”

“I will retrieve the doctor myself.” He squeezed her shoulders, his face almost as pale as Charlie’s.

Instead of his task giving her comfort, it had the opposite effect. “No, please. Send someone else. We need you here.”

“I will go.”

Elizabeth had not noticed that Colonel Fitzwilliam had entered the room. His quickly sensing trouble and volunteering to venture out into the storm comforted Elizabeth. He would be a good co-guardian.

Leaning against her husband like she had in Netherfield’s corridor felt right. Reaching from around behind her, Darcy moved his hand under hers, where Charlie’s head rested in her palm, his body floating in the tepid bath. The strength of his fingers was reassuring. His holding the baby allowed her to run her wet fingers over the tuft of hair at the top of his scalp.Charlie still did not respond.

Leaning more of her weight against her husband, she whispered to the lad, “Your mama thought your papa was the most handsome man on the whole earth. Whenever she looked at him, she had stars in her eyes. I have never seen anyone so much in love.”

Darcy stepped closer behind her, his free arm wrapping around her waist.

She continued. “Both of your parents cared not if they had a son or a daughter. Their main consideration was that their child knew how much they were wanted and loved.” Elizabeth’s body shook with a sob. Darcy’s arm squeezed tighter. “I regret that you will never know my sister. She was the sweetest soul. Never did she utter a harsh word against anyone. She felt everyone’s suffering as if it were her own, and she generously gave her time and energy to others. That she was beautiful beyond imagination never mattered to her. She looked in the same mirror that I did, but she never saw her radiance as anything special.” Resting her head on Darcy’s shoulder, she waited until she gained a measure of control before adding, “You see, Jane was not just my older sister. She was my best friend. When my imagination got the better of me, she was my voice of reason. When I was made to feel bad about myself, she always lifted my spirit. I miss her so badly that I cannot imagine how my heart will ever be able to heal. Yet, she left behind in you and Clara the best of her, two seeds of greatness that will grow to be just as kind and compassionate as your mama and your papa. You are born from a love that was beautiful to witness. Therefore, I bear witness today that I will do all within my power to remind you how important you would have been to them, that you are to me, and that you are greatly loved.”

Her tears dripped into the water, the only sound in the room. Somehow, she hoped her words would be able to be absorbed by her nephew, moving him to respond. His listlessness broke her heart. When Mrs. Carter returned to care for Charlie, Elizabeth turned in her husband’s embrace, wrapping her arms around him, and wept.

Darcy’s heart broke for his wife. He cared not that his servants witnessed their suffering. Surveying the little one from his head to his toes, Darcy was awed that a baby could be so small. Yet, every aspect of his physical form was perfect. Little Charlie Bingley was a wonder. Like Elizabeth, he vowed to do all within his power and authority to protect this child.

When his wife’s body began to quiver, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her through the doorways to their shared sitting room. Her maid took Elizabeth’s place, tending to the boy.

Parker, who arrived with his primary carriage earlier, moved one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace. Darcy sat with his wife still in his embrace as his valet left the room, closing the door behind him.

He knew not what to say. How could he provide comfort when her wounds ran so deep? Whether she lost the boy due to his current illness or to Lord and Lady Armstrong, the devastation to Elizabeth would be complete.

They sat together for the longest while. Darcy refused to let her go as she wept. His own heart ached until he felt her suffering in every pore. He knew then that his words to his uncle about his marriage were not strong enough.

He loved her, red eyes, damp cheeks, runny nose and all. She spoke of the compassion of her sister. What of her own tender feelings? Elizabeth’s character was rich and deep, stirring him until all he could think about was her. How could he soothe her? How could he please her? At that moment, he was at a loss. Committed beyond anything he had ever felt before, he would use their lifetime together to learn how to please a woman worthy of being pleased.

Parker tapped on the door to let him know the doctor arrived. His valet entered the room long enough to add more wood to the fire, whispering that the physician intended to remain with the baby until there was improvement.

He appreciated his valet’s discretion when he felt Elizabeth hold her breath during the brief report, not exhaling until Parker was gone.

Of course, what was left unsaid was that there might not be improvement. Darcy struggled to come up with a plan that would help Elizabeth should the worst happen.

A baby wailed. Was Charlie better?

“That is Clara. She will worry,” Elizabeth whispered.

His chest deflated as his hope vanished like a mist. Running his hand up and down her arm, he sighed, wanting her to know that he was affected, too.

She completely relaxed against him.

“Pray forgive me for my wild talk, Mr. D…” She leaned away from him. “I do not know what to call you, sir.”

“My family calls me by my given name, Fitzwilliam.”

Gratefully, she rested against him. He had not realized how much he coveted her contact until she pulled away. He enjoyed their intimacy, her heart beating with his.

“Fitzwilliam, I fear you will be offended if I share my fears.”

“Not at all.”

She scoffed. “Lord, but I hope you mean that because the worries running rampant in my mind are fearsome. For example, what if Charlie does not recover? What if we lose him and Clara is left alone? How could we possibly comfort Clara? From the moment of his birth, it is as if she looks for him. She needs him, Fitzwilliam. I need him. I want to believe in my soul that he shall live, but the odds are not in our favor.”

Her fingers pulled at the fabric of his waistcoat. He would gladly give her every garment he owned if it helped her.

“Churchyards are filled with the graves of infants who barely took a single breath. Newborns are christened before the second Sunday after their birth because so few live past that period. My expectations should be low, but they are not. I am not made for tears, but I cannot make myself pretend that Charlie’s condition is not serious.”

She was not yet done.

“I have never believed in fate. Instead, I feel that good and bad things happen, not by design, but as consequences for either a wise or a foolish decision. Or it happens by accident. For how could a God of love rob these children of parents who were all that were good and kind themselves? What sort of God would have a master plan that included the death of innocent children?” Elizabeth released her grip and patted his chest. “Have I shocked you?”

“You have not. I am in complete agreement.”

Her sigh was heavy. “Then I am pleased to be married to a wise man.”

He chuckled to himself. “You are? That is good to know.” He stopped rubbing her arm, his hand cupping her elbow. “Elizabeth, there is no way for me to know what our future holds, especially when it comes to the children. Know this for a certainty, what we can control is our relationship with each other. If you and I decide to be happy in our marriage, then no force on earth nor action on the part of another will stop us.”

His wife pulled away to look at him. “Then let us be happy, Fitzwilliam.”

Relieved at hearing exactly what he needed to hear, he pulled her even closer.