After the Pride and the Prejudice

The babe and the letter

Elizabeth's morning sickness hit her at earlier than dusk and kept her up until breakfast time. For the majority of the early morning to the afternoon she held her head over a large white basin, relieving her stomach of acidic fluids. Fitzwilliam was holding her hair behind her and petting her back until the sun crept up and she stopped heaving. It was a most eventful night. Elizabeth knew what was going on but she was too sick to explain. She'd missed her monthly and she understood it perfectly well. Fitzwilliam watched her with worried eyes and caressed her in every moment with his hands and words. When breakfast time rolled around, Fitzwilliam ordered for a bath to be brought up and drawn for her. After about thirty minutes, the tub was full with half warm and half cold water. Elizabeth slides carefully down in it with a cold wet cloth over her head. Fitzwilliam held her hand and kissed her cheek. Elizabeth looked at him with dreamy eyes. Her sickness had subsided for the morning. She felt fine now, but weak. She removed the towel from her head and smiled. Fitzwilliam's eyebrow arched quizzically. She loved when he did that.
Fitzwilliam asked, "Why are you smiling?" Elizabeth held him in suspense and then answered, "My dear, I am pregnant." Fitzwilliam's eyes grew big as did his mouth. He reached down and pulled her out of the tub. He pressed her wet body to his. He swung her around and laughed, as he had done Georgiana almost a year earlier when Elizabeth had come to see the house. His clothes were soaked, but he didn't care one bit. She began to cry. She cried joyous tears as he kissed her head. The thought of being parents made them feel invincible. They had it all.
As Elizabeth bathed, Fitzwilliam went to a nearby desk and began work on a letter announcing the baby. His quill scratched the paper happily and the ink was smeared and blotched in excitement and intensity. His first letter was addressed to Elizabeth's father. Elizabeth hadn't seen her father since the wedding day and she felt a little guilty for not having seen him earlier. Her father was her world until Fitzwilliam took hold and she would never forget that. Her musings were stopped short when the lady's maid knocked erratically on the door. Fitzwilliam opened the door and stepped outside. Elizabeth strained to hear, but couldn't. Fitzwilliam looked at the short, harried woman and asked, "What is the matter?" She looked everywhere but his eyes, as if she were guilty of a heinous crime. She spoke slowly and shakily. She said, "I've come... to give you this letter... it's very urgent that Mrs. Darcy reads it... right away." She handed him the letter and then scurried back down the hall like a child after a whipping.
Fitzwilliam looked down at the letter, frowned and then walked back into the room. "What is it?" Said Elizabeth. "It is a letter from your mother." He answered. Elizabeth crossed her arms over her body and held herself tight. "What does it say?" He tore open the envelope and pulled the letter out. "I am so sorry to ruin your honeymoon with wonderful Darcy, but Mr. Bennet is very sick and we need you home straight away. I fear I may die with the anxiety of it all. Also, congrats again on making me the happiest mother in all of England." Their mouths hung open like all the world's air had been chased out. Violent shudders began to wrack Elizabeth's body and she drew in heavy short breaths until she was practically gasping. Her panic was smothered by Fitzwilliam's body which was pressed into her mouth. He had picked her up, put a robe around her and carefully placed her on the bed. Throughout all this he clench her close; her wet body was writhing in anxiety. Once on the bed he placed himself beside her and stroked her hair and soothed her. He spoke into her ear," Elizabeth... Elizabeth... It will be alright. Think of how..." Fitzwilliam stumbled over the word, "happy he will be when he learns you are to have a baby. Trust me, my sweet, it will all be alright." Elizabeth's body slowed. Her breathing became normal. She then began to cry without relenting. She cried silent tears in the arms of Mr. Darcy for the loss of the man before men.