Page 20 of A Promise Made

However, when asked to help chaperone Jane and Mr Darcy, Mr Bennet felt a jolt of pure joy. Mr Darcy was everything gentlemanly, everything decent and honest. He would cheer on that pairing at full volume!

Jane and Mr Darcy were smiling as they ended their balcony conversation, but Mr Bennet was surprised to see Mr Darcy hurry ahead of Jane and offer his arm to Lizzy. They went into supper together—and Mr Bennet felt as if his hopes for Jane and Darcy had been dashed.

Or were they? Which of his daughters was the man interested in—if any?

An ugly sensation quivered in his gut. He did not at all like the idea of Darcy stealing away his Lizzy—not one little bit. Darcy could not possibly feel the least bit romantic towards her, could he? When Darcy had lived in the area for almost two months, Lizzy had been bothersome and critical.

Mr Bennet unhappily stalked into the supper room, determined to watch and, if need be, to interfere.

Chapter Seventeen

Elizabeth got up with the sun as usual. She dressed against the autumnal chill and put her hair up in a simple knot—although, being so thick and curly, even a simple hairstyle necessitated a mountain of hairpins. She wore a pelisse and wrapped herself in a shawl and hastened out to the meeting place she had suggested to Mr Darcy the night before.

As she approached the bridge, she was positive that she had reached it first—but then Mr Darcy stepped out from behind some trees. His face broke into one of those amazing smiles.

“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth,” he greeted her. His face was back to its usual solemn expression, but his eyes twinkled as he said, “What a surprise to run into you. Would you like to walk a bit?”

“Yes, please.” She assumed that he was acting as if they had not pre-arranged their meeting, which of course made sense, given the rules of propriety.

There was no one around, however, so his caution was a bit excessive.

She led him to a forest path and then to a little meadow where he could tie off his horse and they could sit on a log and talk.

“Mr Darcy, I have a confession to make.”

He regarded her steadily as she related her stealthy shadowing of his ride to the tiny grave of the longed-for Bennet son. He looked quite concerned.

“I hate that you learnt of the loss of a baby brother in that sudden and lonely way. I imagine you felt very disturbed, and so far from comfort. Once you returned home, were you able to get the answers you surely needed?”

She shook her head. “This is one reason I asked for you to meet me far from everyone. I have needed to talk to someone about this, and I just cannot seem to speak of it to anyone in my family.”

Mr Darcy seemed amazed, but his eyes shone with care, not judgement. When she did not go on immediately, he just waited silently.

She said, “At first, I was horrified to see a Bennet grave hidden away like that on another estate. I was stunned by the implications—a male heir, at last, but he tragically did not survive. I wondered if my mother never falling with child again was the result of whatever happened to cause my brother’s death. I was mystified by the secrecy regarding the baby, but at the same time I was mortified that I had behaved so poorly. If I had made the discovery in any other way, I would have asked my father, but I could not bear to admit what I had done.”

He looked sympathetic. “I wish you would have burst upon Mr Saunders and me. Both of us thought Mr Bennet was doing a disservice to the entire family by keeping the stillborn child a secret.”

“Well, in the past five years I have waited for him to tell us, or at least to tell me. There have been several times when something occurred that I felt would naturally lead to him revealing the truth. One time, a lady in the neighbourhood was known to be increasing, but then there was no birth announced. I had heard whispers of a stillbirth. I asked my father what that meant, and I so hoped he would explain about both the neighbour and my own brother. But…he did not. He just said that I should not ask such questions. I asked my mother about what I had heard, as well, and she explained so comprehensively why a maiden should never ask about childbearing that I felt I could not make any further attempts.”

“Would you like me to tell you what I was told by my father?”

Feeling her breath catch, Lizzy could only nod.

Mr Darcy explained about the carriage accident, the driver’s death, and his own injury. Lizzy felt shocked that such an awful thing had occurred so nearby, and yet she had heard nothing about it. She was only five at the time it occurred, but she would have supposed such a dramatic event would be spoken of for years.

“Apparently,” Mr Darcy went on, “Mr Saunders knew that your father had paid to have a physician live in your house near the time of your mother’s confinement. He did not know why—he did not know about the expectation of twins. When the accident occurred, my father’s footman rode to Netherfield to tell Mr Saunders and his servants. Before even telling Mr Saunders about the accident, the butler sent the footman to Longbourn to ask the physician to come.”

Lizzy began to see the outlines of what had happened. She nodded soberly.

“As you can imagine, the butler did not have any idea that the physician was at that moment in the middle of the delivery of twins. And when I say ‘in the middle of the delivery,’ I mean that Lydia had been born, but the second twin was still in the womb. It was my father’s opinion that the physician should have remained by the midwife’s side at Longbourn until both babies were delivered and your mother was in no apparent danger. It was, after all, the entire reason your father had paid for his presence. Twin births were—and still are—well known to present additional dangers for mothers and babies.”

“Do you know what happened with the birth?” Lizzy breathed.

“Not clearly. Mr Saunders overheard a Longbourn servant saying that the midwife did not have obstetric forceps. But your father had begged Mr Saunders to pay off the servants—those at Longbourn and at Netherfield—to quash any talk of the birth and death. Since the two men—your father and Mr Saunders—moved so swiftly to stop any rumours before they even started, the story did not spread, and it was only later that Mr Saunders asked his London-based physician some questions on behalf of an anonymous friend. He discovered that midwives, by law, are not allowed to own, train with, or use forceps, but the physician would assuredly have had the tool, the knowledge, and the right and duty to use them if something had gone wrong. Possibilities included a twin becoming entangled in a chord, becoming wedged and unable to pass through the birth canal, or becoming trapped in a womb if the labour pangs slowed too much.”

“Why would the physician have abandoned my mother and baby brother like that?”

Mr Darcy shook his head, looking as mystified and sorrowful as she felt.