Goodly Creatures: A Pride and Prejudice Deviation (25 page)

Anne and Fitzwilliam had feared Lady Catherine would arrive unannounced if she knew of the impending birth. They had felt it prudent to wait until the day before Miss Elizabeth’s departure to send an express to inform her of their joyful news. Her daughter dreaded her stay as her mood was certain to reach an even greater level of resentment when she learned they had waited more than a week to communicate the existence of her granddaughter and that they planned to name her Elizabeth Anne.

Anne stamped her foot in irritation. This year, Christmas and the welcoming of a new year should have been her time to be the most important. Now word had come from Elderton that none from that estate would be spending time at Pemberley this season. Lady Wolfbridge had lost her baby, and the Countess felt the family should stay with her to keep her from falling too deep into despair. Her aunt’s major concern seemed to be Edmund’s absence. Even Richard had arranged a few days leave to spend Christmas with his sister-in-law in her time of need.

What sounded like laughter pulled her away from the window. Anne turned to find the baby gesturing toward the painting of Little Red Riding Hood making her way to grandmother’s house. She picked up her gurgling little girl and was rewarded with a grin. At least this little one and Fitzwilliam appreciated what she had accomplished. Mrs Darcy was now a proud mother—married to a man who was very pleased with the changes she had wrought in their life. The best part was he often smiled and was moved to kiss Anne’s cheek when they were in the presence of their precious baby duck.

Anne sat and rocked the baby as she reflected on her last days with Miss Elizabeth. She had not been as gleeful as Anne had expected. At every turn, she had seemed to deflect a discussion of what she would do with the money. Nothing much was ever said beyond her standard reply—“she would increase her sisters’ dowries and take care of her mother in the event of her father’s demise.” Fitzwilliam had told of her request for his help in hiring a young man to act as steward-in-training for her father. He planned to recommend Mrs Reynolds’ nephew, John, who had been working with his father at Bryn Mawr for the last several years

She found it difficult to understand Miss Elizabeth’s regard for her family. They were much lower in society than the Fitzwilliams, the De Bourghs or the Darcys, but still she had seemed to pine so for them. Even with the twenty thousand pounds Anne had given her for the baby, the five sisters’ dowries would hardly be enough to encourage attachments with men of any substance. Miss Elizabeth—in a desire for the baby to have a connection to her family—had left a necklace to be passed on to her. It was that gruesome amber cross with an ant trapped inside. She had not insisted Fitzwilliam comply but simply said it would please her to know the little girl might wear it one day. Anne was reminded how silly and sentimental Miss Elizabeth was. She tried to remember whether she had been that nonsensical when she was sixteen. This child would be given all the advantages she and Mr Darcy could afford. A flawed amber cross would not do for their daughter when she could have emeralds and rubies.

Her baby duck was no longer cooing. Instead, she was staring at her intently—much as Miss Elizabeth had when Anne promised to confess her treachery to Fitzwilliam. Absolution from the young woman who had given birth to this child was what she had wanted that day. It had seemed proper to start her new life as the best wife and mother with a clear conscience. Much to her relief, she had been granted atonement for the simple price of telling her husband the details of what had happened that day. Miss Elizabeth had believed the truth would free him from any fears he might have that the baby would become wanton like he believed her mother to be. Anne’s precious little one’s expression seemed to be soliciting a similar promise to tell her father the particulars. She placed a kiss on the baby’s forehead and silently agreed to do as requested—but now was not the right time. It would spoil Fitzwilliam’s Christmas and the pleasure he was feeling with being a father. Besides, he had taken on the obligation to appease both Georgiana’s resentment and her mother’s.

An apprehensive look in the baby’s eyes prompted her to remember another odd reaction Miss Elizabeth had exhibited that day. After their bargain had been struck, Anne had quickly changed the conversation to her trip home and seeing her family once again. “Do you have plans for a large celebration for Christmas? Ours will only be my mother in addition to Georgiana. Lord Wolfbridge’s wife lost her baby. None from their family will be coming to Pemberley.” She noticed that Miss Elizabeth had gone from looking resolute, to appearing shaken at the news of her cousin’s wife. She initially assumed it was because she did not like being reminded of the Viscount, but Anne was confused as to why she seemed to appear guilt ridden.

Anne returned to the window, to check on the progress of Fitzwilliam’s discussion with his sister. Georgiana seemed both suspicious and petulant. She had overheard the two of them arguing over the name for the baby. Anne was insistent that the baby be named Elizabeth. It was such a small gesture to honour the baby’s mother by using her name, and she did not understand why he was so reticent about making it. Fitzwilliam feared that it might fuel speculation about the child. They had heard about rumours among the servants of some secrecy surrounding the baby’s birth. His main concern was that there had been no one within the Fitzwilliam, De Bourgh or Darcy family named Elizabeth for more than a generation.

She had finally persuaded him to agree to the name, and now this afternoon she would have to hear her mother’s objections and insistence the baby be named for her. Anne could not countenance calling this child Catherine or Cathy. Her baby duck smiled and gurgled with approval at her mother’s determination.

On Sunday, the 15th of March, 1807, the baby was baptized Elizabeth Anne Darcy. They told all assembled of their decision to call her Bethany. What they did not disclose was that it was a concession to Fitzwilliam’s fears. As expected, Lady Catherine had imperiously objected, but Anne—feeling the power of accomplishing what so many had despaired ever happening—refused to be moved on the question of the little girl’s name. Her determination had been fuelled by an equal need to honour Elizabeth and defy her mother. Richard Fitzwilliam and Lady Wolfbridge were chosen to be the baby’s godparents. Eleanor Fitzwilliam was not well known to the Darcys, but Richard encouraged his cousins that she would be a good choice. He knew her to be kind and generous.

Three months after the baptism, Anne had still not fulfilled her promise to Miss Elizabeth. Just when she thought the time might be right for her confession, there always seemed to be some obstacle that arose. The latest impediment was her belief that she was with child. She could not tell him now, for fear he might reject her and the baby she might be carrying. More important than righting history was her mission to provide him with the best marriage she could and to be the most loving mother possible. This change in her outlook had led Anne to encourage intimacy with Fitzwilliam.

Their days and nights had settled into a blissful routine. Anne loved being a mother, and she could tell Fitzwilliam adored being a father to Bethany. They planned their days with her in mind as much as possible. They sang to her and read to her, even though she could not understand. Georgiana had left her resentment behind, and joined them in a life centred around the baby. She brought her in a basket to the music room, and played the pianoforte for her. Bethany had a habit of looking at her parents and Georgiana with an intense gaze, as though she understood their words. She smiled and laughed a great deal, and all three found her mood catching.

Anne had been present when Bethany was delivered and had been reassured by how easy her birth had been for Miss Elizabeth. She now believed her fear of childbirth to have been silly and selfish and enthusiastically determined it was her duty to give Fitzwilliam a male child. This had been her initial justification for going to him every night; but when he seemed pleased with her willingness, she gloried in feeling desired. Anne de Bourgh Darcy was happier than she had ever been in her life. Their marriage became less one of convenience, and more one of mutual admiration. She could not call it love; but even so, she enjoyed their relationship too much to risk his disapproval by telling him about her careless behaviour on a day more than a year ago.

It was not long after embracing her marital duties that her courses stopped; she began to feel tired and battled nausea in the morning. She told Dr Wilder of her symptoms, and he told her he suspected she was with child. His advice had been to try to improve her health as much as possible. Her mother had always told her that she was unable to do things because of her fragile constitution. Dr Wilder’s approach was to encourage her to increase her strength. He encouraged her to eat as much as possible as she tended to be frail. As with Elizabeth, he encouraged her to get as much exercise as possible. Dr Wilder agreed she should tell Mr Darcy but cautioned her that it would not be certain until she felt the baby move.

She and Fitzwilliam celebrated Bethany’s first birthday and prepared for Christmas. This year, the whole family was coming, and they would have a joyful time; and soon after around Twelfth Night, her baby would be born. She was anxious to have it over, and continue the idyllic existence her life had become… this time with two babies instead of one.

On the night of January 5, 1808, Anne’s pains began. Mrs Hinton was called, and the birth was easy, but Bronwyn felt something was wrong with the afterbirth. She had Dr Wilder summoned. Anne was unaware of their concerns as she cuddled her infant son. He was beautiful, and was born with a head of dark hair like his father. They had decided to name him Lewis George after both of his grandfathers. Anne even nursed him as Miss Elizabeth had done with Bethany. She tried as best she could to sing to him. When she ran out of lullabies, she chose the only other song she could think appropriate. She sang
Bobby Shafto
to him. He truly seemed to enjoy that song, and she thought maybe he was trying to smile or even laugh at the words. She was supremely happy that all had gone well and was filled with pride that she had produced such a perfect little boy.

Thirty-six hours after the birth, Anne became feverish. Dr Wilder told Mr Darcy that the placenta had broken apart, and Mrs Darcy had developed an infection. Within hours of that news, she began to slip in and out of consciousness. When she was awake, she made a desperate attempt to tell Fitzwilliam about Miss Elizabeth. She repeated over and over, “She forgave me and I promised to confess. Please Fitzwilliam, I need to tell you what happened that day. I promised I would and I did not.”

Four days after Lewis George Darcy was born, Anne Darcy died. The last hours of her life, she was not conscious at all. She was never able to confess her role in the violation of the only woman friend she ever had.

20 AN IDEAL HUSBAND AND FATHER

Fitzwilliam Darcy watched as his daughter slept. She had already brought such joy to their lives… He, Anne and Georgiana had all changed. It was as if she had completed some kind of circle, and had given all three of them a renewed purpose. They read to her, they sang to her, and Georgiana played for her. He was intrigued by the intelligence that shone from the eyes she had inherited from her mother. They were often the same as Miss Elizabeth’s had been that night at the theatre—green shining with flecks of gold. In response to that memory, he began telling her things an infant could hardly fathom, but she always seemed to reward him with a stare that said she completely understood his words

Anne had prevailed, and they had named her Elizabeth. He had been apprehensive about using the name Elizabeth, and he persuaded Anne that they should call her Bethany instead. It was a good compromise. The name had a biblical connotation, and he liked a reference he read to the town of Bethany as a little oasis laden with figs in a barren region. The literal translation from the Hebrew was house of figs, Bethany was definitely a little oasis in what had, for many years, been a barren existence for him.