A Summer Shame (14 page)

"How is Lydia? The baby?"

The maid shook her head. "The babe not be here yet, miss, but Miss Lydia, she needs you both. Mrs. Buchanan told me to fetch you, beg your pardon."

"No, no, you did right. Have you had any sleep?"

The maid shook her head. "Go wake a replacement for you and find some rest."

"Thank you ma'am." She curtsied and left the room.

"Jane, Jane!" Elizabeth rocked the slumbering form of her sister back and forth until finally the fair haired Bennet sister awoke. Jane had a similar reaction as Elizabeth, rushing to activity when she realized the gravity of their situation. "The baby is not here. But they need us." Elizabeth yawned and slipped her feet into her slippers. Her wrinkled gown would offend no one she was sure, and she only checked the mirror to replace a few pins. Becky, her personal maid, stepped into her bedroom.

"Becky!" Jane greeted the familiar face with a sincere smile.

"I'm here, Mrs. Darcy. Let's refresh your dress . . ." Becky smiled back at Miss Bennet and began to walk to her mistress' wardrobe.

"No, there's no time, I'd like to see my sister now. Where are Mr. Darcy and Mr. Hamilton? Have they retired?"

"Oh yes ma'am, long ago. Should I call for refreshments, you and Miss Jane have not eaten."

"Has Lydia eaten?" Jane asked. Becky shook her head. "Then we too can await the arrival of our niece or nephew to feast." Jane clasped Elizabeth's hand and the two sisters left for Lydia's room.

The darkness outside made the birthing room eerie and foreboding. Candles and the light of the raging fire in the grate cast large shadows about the walls. Nearly all inside were exhausted beyond measure, with poor Lydia sitting limply in the chair. Two maids supported her as it appeared she had not even the energy to hold herself up.

"The girl is spent! To continue this labor is a danger to both the babe and the mother!" The midwife argued with Dr. Simpson who felt moving Lydia to the bed to allow her to continue her labors and rest between the best course of action.

Jane wasted no time replacing one of the maids supporting her sister. A barely conscious Lydia turned to Jane and whimpered as another contraction swept over her and her head slumped forward as she passed out. The maid on the other side of Lydia grabbed smelling salts and waved them under Lydia's nose.

Elizabeth watched the entire ordeal in horror, biting her fist to keep from screaming herself. Poor Jane nearly fainted herself, but managed to stay strong. Suddenly, Mrs. Darcy roared to life and ordered the midwife and doctor to do something immediately to save her sister!

"Mrs. Darcy, these things take time. Many a mother passes out from a contraction or two. If we move Miss Lydia to her bed, she will be easier and the babe will come in due time."

The midwife snorted and Elizabeth regarded the woman with interest. "You disagree?"

"The blood in the pan be too red. Too red! That babe be killing your sister hour by hour. By morning, both will be in Heaven." The midwife's matter-of-fact tone calmed Elizabeth despite the horrific verdict her words predicted.

"Your suggestion?"

The midwife waddled back over to the birthing chair and looked at the maid whose eyes widened but nodded. Jane's lip trembled, but the midwife gave her a stern talking to and told her she was strong enough to do this.

"On the next contraction, you two pin her shoulders back and hold tight lest the banshee grip hold. A'tight, you hear?" The two women nodded profusely and Lydia began to stir, somewhat conscious that something awful was coming.

"Ssh, it's going to be well, all will be well. We are here, you are not alone." Jane smoothed her hand over Lydia's sweat soaked hair until a contraction came, again knocking Lydia out. Instead of grabbing the smelling salts, the maid pushed and held Lydia's shoulders and Jane followed suit.

The midwife reached into Lydia's womb and grasping the feet of the infant inside, yanked as hard as she could, bracing her feet at the base of the chair. The doctor's strong arms caught Mrs. Darcy as she was unprepared for such a gruesome display, and Elizabeth found herself yelling and screaming in Lydia's stead.

The babe came out blue and not crying, as the afterbirth surged out of Lydia. The midwife swaddled the babe quick as may be, handing it off to the doctor who carried it out of the room. Jane cried out after the baby, and Elizabeth took her place as her older sister followed the doctor.

"Where are you taking him?" Jane quickly walked after the doctor as the screams of Elizabeth had awoken Mr. Darcy who was now standing in the hall.

"He is dead. It's best the mother not see."

"He is not dead! He is not!" Jane moved to take the baby from the doctor, who tried to keep the bundle away from her. Mr. Darcy walked forward to intervene.

"What's this? The babe is stillborn?"

"Yes." The doctor said as Jane simultaneously answered "No."

"I saw him move as the midwife pulled him out, he moved! Give him to me and we will warm him." Jane took the bundle as the doctor released him on Mr. Darcy's nod.

Jane hurried down t0 the kitchens, with the doctor following, not believing anything could be done, but curious all the same. Jane remembered years ago when little Gracie Long was born blue and barely moving, they sat her by the fire and massaged her little skin. She had turned pink in no time at all. Jane prayed she could save her nephew in a similar manner.

Thankfully, the fire in the kitchen crackled loudly as the staff milled about to ready breakfast. The sudden appearance of Miss Bennet and Dr. Simpson ceased the lower staff in their work, but Cook immediately recognized the problem. She began to move the big kettle off the rack with long iron tongs, then dragged a stool as close to the hearth as she dared.

Jane opened the bundle and laid the babe on his stomach across her lap, rubbing and rubbing his tiny ribs with gentle love. Shifting her legs side to side in a small rocking motion, she sang the only psalm that came to her, Psalm 23.

By her second rendering, the kitchen staff had joined in and tears flowed down the many faces. Louder and louder Jane uttered the words, looking at the lifeless baby in her hands, ready to give up. A painful silence fell over the kitchen as all felt their efforts futile, the young scullery maids making the sign of the cross.

Reverently, Jane turned her nephew over, to gaze one last time at his serene little face when his nose scrunched up and the most miraculous sound of all rent the air. A sturdy baby’s cry!

Upstairs, Elizabeth and the maid had helped Lydia to her bed, changing her chemise into a fresh clean one and laying half a dozen towels beneath her as she still bled profusely. The midwife clucked her tongue as she inspected the after birth.

Mr. Darcy was allowed entrance to the room once the birthing evidence was removed. He stopped short at his first gaze of Lydia. The young girl lay pale as the white sheets around her and flashbacks of his own mother flooded his mind. Elizabeth recognized her husband's discomfort and rushed to him for an embrace. He gently patted his wife's hair as the two clung to one another for strength.

"Does she live?" he asked, hoarsely. As if in response, Lydia's eyes fluttered open and she turned her head towards them, soundlessly moving her lips.

Elizabeth left her husband's embrace to rush to Lydia's side, bending her ear to hear her sister's need.

"I am so very sorry,” she managed in the lightest of whispers.

Elizabeth watched in horror as Lydia's eyes fluttered once more and she lost consciousness, her breathing barely perceptible. Losing her strength, Elizabeth's knees buckled as she cried the only word she could.

"Fitzwilliam!"

❂❂❂

The collective mood in number twenty-seven Gracechurch Street could best be described as triumphant. Mrs. Gardiner was safely delivered of a healthy baby girl, named Constance Elizabeth Gardiner, a moniker chosen for her stubbornness shown already at such a young age. After her initial cries, young Constance was surprisingly quiet, but much more awake and alert than Mrs. Gardiner's older children were at birth.

One thing was for certain and that was young Constance already captured a favorite aunt in Miss Mary Bennet. Poor Kitty and Georgiana despaired that when they held the babe, she cried and fussed no end, but once placed in Mary's arms, the young infant cooed and slept.

After placing a slumbering Constance back into her bassinet one afternoon, much to the nurse's relief, Mary Bennet changed her dress for the third time that day with plans to finally return downstairs. Babies were a messy business as far as Mary was concerned and she was thankful she had never discarded her older frocks.

The Matlock carriage arrived to deliver Kitty from the shopping excursion she had taken with Georgiana and Lady Matlock. The lack of invitation to Mrs. Bennet had stirred the poor woman to fits and she refused to leave her room after Kitty left. Mary descended the stairs as Kline opened the door to not only the young ladies, but to the Countess of Matlock herself.

Mary sucked in her breath as the social calls of such a grand woman still rankled her deep teachings of the world from her younger years. Peers visiting tradesmen, it simply wasn't done! Smiling, she gave the older woman the warmest greeting as she was beginning to love Lady Matlock as the mother figure she wished she had.

“My lady, I'm afraid Mrs. Gardiner is not available for visitors,” the stiff Kline announced the normal response to the many visitors the house had received from Mr. Gardiner's vendors and workers since the babe had been born.

“Certainly not! I should hope my presence makes not the slightest difference!” Margaret Fitzwilliam shrugged her coat off to reveal a gorgeous gown in ruby red, trimmed with delicate gray lace.

Mary looked down at her plainer brown gown and felt slightly embarrassed she had not thought to don a more elegant selection. Since her tentative understanding with the Colonel, Mary found herself wishing most to impress his mother.

“May I show you to the parlor, Lady Matlock?” Mary remembered her manners and showed the way as the two younger girls, full of giggles over some secret, already left the entryway.

Mary felt grownup as she rang for refreshments and tried her best to emulate her aunt's easy manners. Her eagle eyes glared at Kitty and Georgiana, sitting in abject silliness on the sofa.

“What has you two in such a passion, hmm?” Lady Matlock openly chided the girls.

Their faces slackened, and Georgiana handed over the scrap of newspaper from Kitty's reticule that the two had giggled over since Kitty snuck it to her in the carriage.

The cut out read that a Mr. B and Miss B of Yorkshire were unfortunate victims of Lady C's punch bowl contents when the legs of said Lady C's table collapsed from the weight of Lord E's drunken tumble from the dance floor.

Biting her lip to keep a stern look after reading the clip aloud, the silence was broken when Mary began to laugh before anyone else.

“
Vengeance
is
mine; I will repay, saith the Lord. Romans twelve nineteen,” Mary quoted, losing herself to the hilarity of divine power.

“Yes, it would appear so,” Lady Matlock laughed lightly as she crumpled the clipping and placed it on the tray. “You ladies may laugh all you like now, but come spring, it will be your turn to brave the ballrooms and parlors, and neither of your initials better appear in those columns.”

Georgiana gulped as Kitty looked on with indifference. As Lady Matlock began to describe the tutors and lessons she intended to begin shortly, she suddenly turned to Mary. “And it would be a good refresher for you, dear, as many expectations come of a woman in your situation.”

“Situation? What situation is that?” Kitty helped herself to a meringue and bit into the sweet confection.

“Never you mind about your sister's situation. Let's worry about your own. Have you completed that little novel of yours?”

Kitty's eyes widened as she was unaware the grand lady had followed her project. Proud, Catherine Bennet sat slightly higher in her place on the sofa, expecting the older woman's praise for the accomplishment. “Yes, ma'am, just last week Georgiana and I bound the final version with my uncle's help.”

“Good, now you can set aside those childish habits and be free to concentrate on all that a proper lady of London must know.”

Kitty's eyes narrowed and Georgiana worried for her friend. Quickly, Georgiana began a new subject by asking where Richard had gone off to, seeing as she expected him to be with her aunt in London.

“Oh, Richard had to run an errand for General someone or other, and will be back at the London office in some weeks' time.” Lady Matlock waved her hand at the errand's unimportance as a servant entered the room, delivering an express directly to Mary on a silver tray.

Seeing the return address, and noticing how thin the missive was, Mary politely excused herself as Georgiana began peppering her aunt with more and more questions about the plans to return to Pemberley.

Ducking out of the room and crossing the hall to her uncle's study, she knocked on the door and was granted admittance.

“Mary! I thought we had company? I was just finishing here to greet them.”