Beginning, Section II, Next Section
Robert stood at the foot of the stairs, waiting anxiously for the butler to tell him whether his wife had found it in her heart to allow him to talk to her or not. He wanted to tell her what had been going on, to explain -- as convincingly as he could ever hope to do - why he had been avoiding her since his father's death, and why he had suddenly decided to leave for London. To be honest, Robert had not even reached the town, but had spent a couple of days completely alone in an old inn that he had passed along the way. There he had reflected over the past months of his marriage to his beloved Julianne, trying to find a solution to the troubles that he himself had created.
A sudden noise made him look up, and he saw Mr. Merriman making his way slowly down the staircase. "Well?" asked Robert eagerly.
"Mrs. Darcy has expressed her wish to speak with you, Sir," replied the butler stiffly, while giving a stern look.
Robert cringed. Henry Merriman's "looks" had always intimidated him, and his only reaction to them, whether he had been caught with his fingers in the jam jar, or walking stealthily away from his awaiting tutor, had always been to try and find a sure means of escape. Technically, he was the Master now, and definitely his superior, but still, Robert did not really want to be in the elderly man's bad books. The only escape route, at that moment, was to nod his head with his remaining fragments of dignity and walk up to his wife's chambers.
Robert made his way quickly up the stairs, and in no time, found himself in front of Julianne's door. His soft knock was acknowledged by her calm, soft voice that unemotionally asked him to come in. What he expected to see, he never quite knew, but he was afraid to meet a gaze that long ago, had been the means of destroying his happiness for several months. He could never forget the look that his then fiancée had given him when he had finally admitted his infidelity to her, and the angry glimmer in her eyes -- the strongest reaction to his heartfelt apology -- as they accompanied her cold dismissal.
Get out Robert, and stop making a fool of yourself!
Those words had been the last she had said to him for many months, and now that they had finally found happiness with their marriage, he had managed to throw it all away in the wind. He loved Julianne with all his heart, but he knew, that if she had forgiven that incident, this was going to be more difficult, and rightly so. With all the inner strength he possessed, he forced himself to look at his wife, and was astonished. Instead of the indifferent anger he feared, he found in her tearful eyes, the same aching need he had, through a mirror, seen in his own reflection in the last few days. With a guilty pang, he finally realized that she was as terribly unhappy as he was, and he never bothered to notice it.
"You are back," she whispered almost inaudibly. It was not a statement, or even a question, but a sudden outburst of her inner turmoil.
There was still a lot of space separating them, but neither of the two had the courage to walk over to the other. Robert nodded numbly and after a pause managed to speak out. "I am back, my love. But will you take me back?" he whispered.
All of a sudden Julianne ran towards him, and flung her arms around his neck. "Robert, look at me! Can you really ask me that?" she cried. Robert didn't answer her but covered her face and lips with passionate kisses. After some time, Julianne broke away gently from his hold and faced him squarely, many unasked questions in her eyes, but only one on her lips. "Why Robert? Why?"
Why did you treat me so terribly since your father died?
Why didn't you share you pain with me?
Why did you leave me alone?
He immediately understood her question, and all the ones which she couldn't ask, and led her slowly to the couch that stood in front of the fire. "I owe you an explanation," he began. "But I know that you probably still won't understand me." This last part was added in a resigned, apologetic tone that, for some reason she herself couldn't understand, elicited a smile from Julianne.
"Try me," she encouraged him softly.
He averted his face from her, and looked at the fire, his voice coming out neutral, as if he was telling a story that was not his own, though, as Julianne dreamily reflected late that night, it had probably been his most honest confession to date.
"Julianne, throughout my whole life, I had never really bonded with anybody. My mother died when I was born, and I can't remember anything of my childhood. At a very early age I was sent off to school, because it took my father a lot of time to get over his loss. When he did try to resume our relationship, it had all been too late for me; I was living without a father, and it was a good life, or at least, one that I wasn't too eager to change. For many years I went on without a care in the world making new friends and losing others, without really caring all that much about anyone. When my father got ill and I met him in that church in Tuscany, I realized that I had wasted most of the time we had together and I wanted to make up for it." He paused, while Julianne went on, listening intently, until she squeezed his hand gently for him to go on.
"So, as you know, in the last year and a half I tried to make it all up with my father and I became sincerely attached to him, living in the delusion that he would get better, and that he would not leave me alone. I hung to that delusion until he drew his very last breath on Christmas Eve." Here Robert sighed and looked at his wife nearly breaking down when he saw the honest, pure love in her expression as she looked at him. "My reaction to his death surprised me, even shocked me," he continued, his voice breaking. "I felt alone and confused and I was terrified to think how I would feel if something...you know...anything happened to you, the only person besides my father whom I really unashamedly loved. Remembering the indifference that had characterized my childhood and adolescence, I resolved to distance myself from you, and to make sure that I would be not too dependent on your love for my own happiness. I know that this was terrible and selfish from my part, but I had hoped that it would have the same effect on you, and that in time, you would stop feeling hurt about it."
Julianne knew that this was the time for her to vent all her anger and disappointment towards her husband. His ridiculous assumptions had caused an almost irreparable strain in their marriage and had almost driven her to despair. One look at his face, however, erased all these emotions, and the Julianne Philips, the one that would have given a piece of her mind to the gentleman confessing beside her, gave way to Julianne Darcy, a married woman who valued her husband and marriage so much that she was ready to listen, and love Robert Darcy all over again with all her being. She started to say something, but he had not yet finished.
"When you told me that you did not care about our marriage any longer, I knew that I had reached my aim, and instead of feeling satisfied about it, I felt completely devastated. The pain at the loss of my father returned again, but this time it was joined by complete anger at myself. Dad had been taken away from me, but the only to blame for your loss was myself. I planned to go to London to sort out my thoughts there, but I didn't even manage to leave the County, and spent all the time in an inn aching to be at Haydon with you."
Julianne caressed his cheek gently and gave him a soft kiss. "If you had bothered to follow me to my room you would have realized what a lie it all was. How could you ever think that I did not care? How many times do I have to tell you that I love you and that I want to share my life with you, whether it be happiness or sorrow?"
"I'm so sorry, Julianne," he said simply. "Will you ever forgive me?"
"Will you promise never to do anything as stupid as this again?"
Robert answered her with a kiss and for a few minutes, neither of the reunited couple felt the need to break away from the other's embrace. Something was still at the back of Julianne's mind however, and she decided to come clean with her husband before any more time passed. "Robert, I have to tell you something," she began. Her husband's lips were now on her neck, and he didn't seem too eager to remove them from that inviting position. She giggled and tried to detangle herself from his ardour. "Listen to me for a moment, will you? You might find that this piece of news might make you refrain from doing what you have in mind."
Robert gave her a wide grin. "Impossible!" he joked, but seeing her serious expression, he tried to stop himself from saying anything more.
"Dearest, you remember that night, after we had been skating with the villagers on the lake? The night before your father -- "
"Collapsed." She looked at him hurriedly, but he seemed all right. In fact he smiled at her dreamily as he remembered what had occurred then. "Of course I do remember," he added twirling a lock of her hair in his fingers.
"Well..." it was now or never. "Robert, I've been pregnant ever since."
Robert looked at her in silence for a few seconds, his mouth slightly open in astonishment. He stood up suddenly and leaned against the mantelpiece before turning angrily towards her. "And telling me that before seemed to be an unnecessary hassle wasn't it?" he demanded, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Julianne was not to be intimidated and faced him squarely. "Don't use that tone on me. I do not deserve your anger," she said.
To her surprise, Robert's anger disappeared as suddenly as it had materialized. "I'm not angry at you, Julianne, I'm just angry at myself," he answered sadly. "I missed three months of our child, and of our marriage, and these will never come back again!"
She went over and hugged him warmly. "You have all the time in the world to make up for it," she said happily. She giggled and kissed her husband, while giving him an enticing look. "You can even start tonight, if you like," she purred.
Robert looked at her longingly but a flicker of worry came into his eyes. "But what about the baby? Can we --?" he asked cautiously.
Julianne smirked. "Do you plan to pass the next six months playing chess at night?" she asked mischievously.
"No it's not that but..."
"Listen to me Robert. I am fine, our child is fine, and if you don't take me in your arms this very minute," she said coyly. "I'm afraid I'll have to attack you!"
Mr. Merriman, while doing his usual turn about the house before retiring, smiled happily as he heard the laughter coming from Mrs. Darcy's chamber. His satisfaction would be greater the following morning, when the Master and Mistress would announce to their whole staff that a new addition the Haydon family party was well on the way to its destination.
Early the next morning, Julianne stirred and opened her eyes painfully. Seeing that her room was still in darkness, she yawned happily and reached out for her husband, only to find an empty space in the bed beside her, instead of his sleeping form. She sat up quickly in alarm and squinted in the darkness to make out the time, it was half five. "Robert?" she called crossly. "Robert where are you?"
"Julianne are you awake?" asked a muffled voice.
"Of course not, dear, I'm just talking in my sleep!" she replied sarcastically. "Where are you?"
"I'm in the nursery!" he answered cheerfully. "Would you care to join me?"
Julianne heaved herself up from the bed and wrapped a shawl over her nightgown as she slowly made her way to the connecting door of the nursery. Robert had drawn open the curtains but the dawn light still did not do much to help her get to him safely. "Robert, dear, don't you know that people sleep at this time of the day?" she demanded.
Her husband lit up a candle and grinned at her cheerfully. "So sarcastic at this early hour," he mused. "Really, how do you manage?"
Julianne scowled and yawned loudly. "What amazes me, my dear, is how you managed to wake up so early! It's not as if we slept much last night," she added mischievously.
Robert walked up to her and kissed her warmly on the cheek. "To tell you the truth, I didn't even manage to doze off. I just stayed looking at you for hours and thinking about the baby. Then, when I saw the first light of day -"
"First light of day? Pray, where on earth did you see that? Across the ocean?" laughed Julianne as she pointed to the darkness outside the nursery window. She was finding great enjoyment in teasing her husband, especially since he seemed to be in an extraordinary good mood.
"I grant you that I might have been mistaken on that count," he admitted. "But, anyway, the most important thing is that I went up to the attic and found just what I was looking for!" With this enlightening speech he led her proudly to the darker area of the room where he had been standing. "There! Do you like it?" he asked as he showed her a large, light wood cradle that, from what Julianne could fathom, her husband had been polishing before she rudely interrupted him.
She gave him a happy smile and touched it lightly. "It's beautiful," she said wistfully. "It's just lovely! But where did you-?"
"That cradle was mine," Robert explained. "I remembered last night that it would have been probably stored in the attics so I decided to go and look for it."
Julianne turned to the cradle with a puzzled frown; although it didn't seem to be particularly heavy, it was still quite large and cumbersome to carry. "How did you manage to carry it on your own from the attics, in the dark?" she asked of him curiously.
Robert grinned sheepishly. "Well, on my way, I met with Mr. Merriman," he began, "and he helped me out." Both Robert and Julianne chuckled; she was trying to imagine the look of the face of the elderly butler as he met up with the Master making his way to the attics in his dressing gown, while Robert was actually reliving the dreadful experience bit by bit.
"Are you in need of anything, Sir?" asked the butler, as he contemplated the disheveled sight before him."Now that you ask, Mr. Merriman," replied Robert, coughing slightly. "Would you mind coming up to the attics with me?"
"The attics, Sir?"
"Yes. I - erm - would like to see the cradle, you know ...my old one?"
"The cradle, Sir??"
Robert was shaken off his reverie by his wife's amazed voice. "Robert, dear, are you telling me that you went up with our poor unsuspecting butler, in the early hours of the day, in pitch darkness, to fetch a cradle that was stored for more than twenty years, for a baby that is due in six months' time??" she asked.
"Yes, Julianne."
"Robert?"
"Yes, Julianne?"
"I think you're a lunatic," she said simply.
Robert looked at her indignantly. "No I am not!" he exclaimed. "I am just an enthusiastic prospective father."
Julianne put an arm around him and hugged him tightly. "This is so wonderful. I was hoping that you will be so happy with my pregnancy, though I was also afraid that..." Here she trailed off and looked at him apologetically.
Robert looked at her lovingly and dispelled any guilt feelings with a warm kiss. "I can only imagine what you must have gone through all these months, and I can't blame you for thinking me devoid of any feelings towards you, and consequently towards our child. But I can assure you that you do not have to worry about anything else. I'll be with you, today and always."
Julianne snuggled in his arms, relieved that all had gone so well, but still unable to relax completely. "Don't you feel scared, Robert? You and me are to become parents, yet at times we just act as children."
"I'm terrified, my love," he replied honestly. "But I'm sure that we'll be able to give our baby all that he or she deserves. And besides, we won't be alone."
"What do you mean?" she asked surprised.
Robert moved her closer to the cradle and showed her a little angel that was drawn on the headboard. "When my mother was pregnant, she was diagnosed with tuberculosis. She knew that she would probably not survive the delivery, so she drew that little drawing on the cradle and told the nurse that if she would not be there with her baby, there will always be an angel to protect it." He smiled sadly and passed his hands on the drawing. "I was born very weak and for many weeks everyone despaired for my life. Until today, Dr. Westacott still insists that it was a miracle that I lived to reach puberty."
"Maybe it was the angel," said Julianne softly. The story had touched her very much.
"I'm sure it was," her husband replied, and then grinned in an attempt to lighten up the solemn mood. He put his hand on her swollen belly and stroked it softly while at the same time giving her an incredulous look. "I don't know how I never noticed this before, it seems so obvious now!"
Julianne smiled back and gave his hand a gentle slap. "Well, it's hardly surprising since you haven't looked at me once these past months!" she retaliated. "And anyway, get used to it, my dear. My belly won't be getting smaller you know!"
Her husband laughed and pulled her up suddenly in his arms. "Well, it might be getting bigger by the day, but I still can hold you, see?" he teased as he carried towards their bedroom.
"Oh isn't my husband a good boy?" she said in her best patronizing tone. "That will give you something to brag about, won't it, my love?"
"Mrs. Darcy?" began Robert as he laid her down on the bed and kissed her. "I think you should stop talking now!"
I think so too Mr. Darcy! was Julianne's last coherent thought before she melted once again in her husband's loving arms.
Darcy, Elizabeth and Ben, as well as Georgiana and Jeremy, were already midway through their breakfast before the Master and Mistress of Haydon made their presence known. They entered the room with linked hands and glowing faces, which really left no doubt of their reconciliation to their relatives. Darcy was glad to see that his cousin was back, and Georgiana and Elizabeth greeted him warmly. Robert looked at Jeremy and extended his hand; however, his eager resolve to bring peace in the household between him and his brother-in-law melted a little on seeing the look on the young man's face.
"I'm glad to see you again, Jeremy," he said tentatively.
"Oh you're back," his brother-in-law replied stiffly. "I hope you had an interesting journey."
Robert sighed and sat down beside his wife, but he didn't miss the disapproving frown that Darcy directed to Jeremy. After breakfast, the ladies went up to their chambers to prepare for a visit to the nearby village of Stanhope and so he took the opportunity to try and mend the rift that existed between him and his wife's twin brother.
"Jeremy, I understand that you are angry and disappointed with my behaviour," he began. "But we were once very good friends, and I can't believe that it has all degenerated to this!"
Jeremy looked at him seriously and did not answer him for a few seconds. "You're right, Robert," he answered. "But what do you expect from me? Julianne is my sister, and she doesn't deserve to be treated in this way by anyone, let alone her husband."
"I agree with you, and Julianne and I have talked about what happened since the death of my father. I can assure you that things will be better now," he replied. "I promise you that, Jeremy."
"I don't know why, but I believe you," said Jeremy, smiling slightly. "My sister is worth two of me and three of you, Robert Darcy, and I hope that you will remember that from now on!"
Robert let out the breath that he had been unconsciously holding, and thanked the Lord for giving the Philips family a particularly forgiving disposition.
The next morning, Georgiana found Jeremy sitting comfortably in the shade of a large tree, totally engrossed in the letter he had received that morning from Gordon. She approached him cautiously and sat down next to him. "Am I interrupting you?" she asked tentatively.
"Of course not," he replied. "I was just reading this letter from my friend, Gordon MacKay."
"And what does he say that gives you so much pleasure?" asked Georgiana curiously.
Jeremy looked at her jubilantly, his eyes shining with a light that she had not seen for a long time. "He has sent me very good news regarding an old acquaintance of mine, a certain Joe Dickson." Seeing her curious look, he went on. "Dickson is a young man, about our age, and he was one of the janitors at Oxford. He was usually made fun of by the other students but MacKay and I, to the surprise of many people, actually got on very well with him. He was a very intelligent young man, extremely curious and well informed about what is going on the world, but he came from a family that was too poor to afford the bare necessities of life, let alone a formal education. His one dream was to leave the slums of London and settle down in the country, perhaps to work a little land of his own.
"I couldn't do much for the second dream of course, but I decided to work on the first one. Many times I would have to wait for Gordon to go home together since his lectures went on well in the evening, so I would spend the time with Dickson doing the only thing I could think of to make him improve his station in life." Here he paused for a second, and smiled reminiscently.
Georgiana was not to be left waiting however, especially since her curiosity was piqued. "What did you do to help Mr. Dickson," she asked, prodding him on.
"Well, I thought him how to read and write, and in turn he would take me round the poorer areas of Town," Jeremy explained thoughtfully. "I met many people there, but unfortunately I haven't visited them in a while," he added, as a guilty afterthought. "However, now Gordon writes to tell me that Joe is not a janitor anymore and he is working in a small store; he is to be married soon, and he his hoping to save up enough money to buy a small house in the country, isn't that marvelous?"
Georgiana looked at Jeremy's enthusiastic face and smiled at him proudly. This young man in front of her was very similar to the one she had fallen in love with at Pemberley. He cared for others, and did something tangible to improve their life. Once more, he was making her ashamed of her luxurious life, but this time Georgiana Darcy was thankful for it, because she decided to do something about it. "Jeremy, I want to come with you when we're in London," she announced decidedly.
"Come with me where?" he asked, decidedly puzzled.
"I want to visit the poor areas, and help people, like you used to do," she explained earnestly.
Jeremy held her hand and looked at her seriously. "I won't try to dictate you anything, Georgiana; I have learnt that lesson," he began. "But are you sure you want to do that? Believe me, you'll see things that you can hardly even imagine."
She gave him a look, and he was satisfied. "Yes," she replied with equal gravity.
Jeremy's face relaxed into a grin as an idea came to his mind. "Before I take you to the slums, there is one person I would really like you to visit," he said, the visits to Mrs. Bailey coming to mind. He had visited the old lady many times in these last months, and he had grown very fond of her. Gordon's letter had given him much joy, but it had also set him thinking even more seriously about what that lady had thought him. Now it seemed only right to introduce her to his fiancée - he was sure that Mrs. Bailey would love his dear Georgiana.
"And who is this?" asked Georgiana.
"She is a very special old lady," he explained wistfully. "The first person who set my priorities right."
Jeremy had been back at Oxford for about a month, and was eagerly anticipating Georgiana's arrival at the Darcy London house. The Darcys had decided to spend some more time at Haydon, instead of staying in Town for the Season, but Georgiana had promised him that she would spend a few days, or even weeks there with our without her brother and Elizabeth. She wanted to meet Mrs. Bailey and also become acquainted with Jeremy's "friends" from the poorer areas. How she would achieve this, Jeremy honestly had no idea, because he could not imagine his future brother-in-law allowing Georgiana to stay alone in the house and yet he could not really spend much time there himself since London was not exactly the safest environment for little Ben. Jeremy hoped that Georgiana would not have to resort to lying to her family, but from what he had seen of her temperament lately, he wouldn't put anything beyond her.
He had been many times to the slum areas of the Town since his arrival, and he was amazed at the joy that he had started to re-experience. Most of the families were a bit hostile at first, and made it obvious to Jeremy that they didn't quite appreciate his sudden absence from their homes. None of them had wanted his charity, but they had missed his smiles and good company. However, day after day, they again started to welcome the young man in their homes, and were very eager to meet the young lady their friend seemed to love so much. There was one family whom Jeremy really wanted to meet again, but had unfortunately been unable to do so. These were the Smiths, who used to live in a rundown room, in one of the dirtiest areas of the Town. Old Mr. Smith had died a few years' before, and the widow had been unable to bear the grief. Whenever Jeremy used to visit them, she would just stare out of the window in complete silence, rocking rhythmically in a worn chair, completely oblivious of his presence and of that of her numerous children. Tommy, the eldest, but only twelve, was the man of the family, and supported the poor family in all the ways he could, but it seemed that yet another tragedy had befallen over the family.
Jeremy had found the room completely empty, and none of the neighbours seemed willing to disclose any information about the Smiths. He had gone there everyday, in the hope of finding any trace of them, but in vain, and now he was ready to give up. He missed young Tommy, and the guilt he felt on having "abandoned" the family for so many months increased everyday. Tonight, he thought finally, I'll go tonight and look for Tommy and his family for the last time. Having set his mind to it, Jeremy walked lazily to the window; he and Gordon were both at home, doing absolutely nothing but laze about, although their University work was always piling up. A familiar looking carriage stopped in front of their lodging house, and Jeremy realized that it was none other that Georgiana and a gentleman alighting from it. After stifling the instinctive jealous fury he felt at seeing the unknown gentleman, he realized with a shock that Georgiana was going to come up in his room, and one quick glance told him all he needed to know.
Along with the usual, acceptable chaos that usually reigned in any room that hosted Gordon Mackay, there were also the remains of the "Rebel Evening" (as Gordon had dubbed it) they had organized the night before. The two of them had invited some friends for some poker and gambling and had decided to drink, smoke and "have the time of their lives". As they rightly put it the night before, "they wanted to ruin their bodies and fumigate their brains just to spite the world!" Just the memory of it made Jeremy feel extremely nauseous, a feeling that was increased by further inspection of their room. He rushed over to his friend, who was dozing off on his bed, and enormous book covering his face.
"MacKay! Wake up! Don't you have anything better to do rather than sleep?" he demanded, shaking him frantically.
Gordon yawned indolently and gave him a wary look. "Of course I have, I just choose not to do it!" he replied, grinning. "What is your problem?"
"There is Miss Darcy and another gentleman coming up the stairs at this very moment, and take a look at this room!" was the panic-stricken reply. "And darn you! That's my coat you're sitting on!"
"What's wrong with the room?" asked Gordon calmly. "It's just a little messed up, that is all,"
A sudden scene with his mother came to Jeremy's mind, a long time ago, when he and Gordon had been visiting the Philips in summer, in those years when he still lived in Scotland with Julianne.
Jeremy, what is the meaning of this! How can you live in this room?
Mother, it's just a little messed up, that is all!
You'll turn up to be just like your friend Gordon here, just mark my words!
And the day had come...the day when his mother, Mrs. Philips, was proved right.
There was a knock on the door, and while Jeremy frenetically kicked clothes, bottles and cigars under the beds, Gordon went to open it with his most charming grin. As was expected, Georgiana and the other gentleman stood waiting politely at the door.
"Miss Darcy?" asked Gordon politely, without giving her a chance to speak. "I am Gordon MacKay and I've heard much, much about you!"
Georgiana smiled politely, and then directed her gleaming eyes to the blushing Jeremy. "And I about you, Mr. MacKay. Both Mr. Philips and Miss Catherine Bennet had a lot of good to tell me about you."
With a last beam, the young Scotsman moved discreetly away. Jeremy ran his fingers through his hair. "I was not told of your arrival in Town, Miss Darcy, or else I would have made the lodgings look a little more presentable," he began apologetically.
She gave the room a quick look and giggled. "This is certainly a side of you which I haven't seen Jer...Mr. Philips," she replied then noticed that her beau was looking at her companion. "Oh! This gentleman is my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I am staying with him and his wife for a few weeks," she added, looking at him earnestly.
The proper introductions were made, and Jeremy found that the Colonel was an extremely amiable man, a bit less formal than Darcy but nonetheless very fond of Georgiana. The visit was not very long, and Georgiana offered to go for a short ride on the carriage with Jeremy, while the Colonel agreed to wait for her with Gordon.
"Was that all planned, by any chance?" asked Jeremy as they left the house.
"Was what planned?" asked Georgiana innocently.
"Do you mean to tell me that one of your guardians would actually allow you to go alone for a carriage ride with a young man in London?" he asked, grinning. She blushed a little, but refused to give him a definite answer, which only confirmed Jeremy's suspicions. They went to visit Mrs. Bailey, who found Georgiana "a delightful young lady". "All Darcys are good sort of people," she declared, "but I think Miss Darcy will be quite my favourite!"
Georgiana blushed and thanked her, while Jeremy looked on proudly. "I agree wholeheartedly Mrs. Bailey," he answered. "Miss Darcy happens to be my favourite too!"
Before they left, the old woman kissed them both affectionately on the cheek and brought Jeremy near her to whisper her last words of advice. "You are lucky young man, Jeremy Philips, see that you don't lose her!" she cautioned him.
"I won't let her go," he replied, not a hint of mirth in his face. "I promise you that."
After some time spent in silence in the coach, Jeremy suddenly turned to Georgiana, who was cuddled up in his arms. "Are you ready dearest? We're almost there."
"I am ready," she replied. "But why are you stopping the coach here? There are no houses."
"Believe me, Georgiana, it would be better not to travel in such a fine coach in these areas," Jeremy replied gravely. "And I'm glad you came so simply dressed," he added, eyeing her appreciatively.
They alighted from the coach and walked through the narrow, dark streets cautiously. Jeremy was used to all this and he was perfectly calm, but Georgiana could not help being frightened by all that she was saying, and clutched his hand tightly. This was a whole new world for her; never had she seen a man sleeping in a dark corner, or young children begging for anything passers by would choose to give them. Their journey was a slow one, because she insisted on stopping in every corner to give something to the beggars, and although they eyed her suspiciously, word went around quite quickly that their usual friend had brought with him an equally generous lady.
Jeremy took Georgiana to visit many of the families he knew, and he was amazed by how quickly they warmed up to her, and how comfortable she seemed to be in their presence. He was ashamed of himself for wanting to shelter her from such an experience, and not thinking her intelligent and strong enough to handle the situation. Some time later, they walked towards the house where the Smiths used to live, and where Jeremy hoped that he would finally get some information about them, when they suddenly heard someone yelling "Thief!!" and an elderly, burly man who looked like a baker came running towards, chasing a small, horrified looking boy, who Jeremy immediately recognized.
He pulled out his hand and grabbed the shrieking boy, and shook him. "Haven't I told you to come home immediately? What do I pay you for?" he yelled while the lad looked at him, completely bewildered. Jeremy then turned to the gaping, breathless baker and tossed him a few coins. "These servants!" he scoffed. "Completely useless! Is that enough for your trouble, Sir?" he added politely.
The man nodded in astonishment, for what Jeremy had offered him greatly exceeded the cost of the stale bread that the boy had stolen. He walked off in silence, after giving them all a final glare.
Jeremy let go of the boy and faced him squarely. "Tommy! What are doing? Have you resorted to stealing now?" he asked angrily.
Tommy looked around him for a means of escape, but Jeremy's hands were again on his shoulders. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded rudely.
"Don't you recognise me Tommy?" asked Jeremy surprised.
The boy looked at him closely, and suddenly his eyes flickered in recognition. "Jerry? Is it you? Where have you been all this time?"
"Jerry" looked at him guiltily. "I haven't been around as I should have," he replied. "But I have been looking for all of you for weeks. Where are your mother, and your brothers and sisters?"
"They're all dead, the fever," was the brusque reply.
Georgiana gasped. "I'm sorry," she said softly.
"Don't be!" answered Tommy furiously and turned again to look at Jeremy. "And you Jerry, just get away from me!"
"No, I want to help you! Please, come with me, leave this place!" he pleaded. "You can't keep on living like this, stealing a stale loaf of bread... whatever next?"
Tommy glared at him. "Where were you when we all got the fever and I spent all nights crying out your name, while my family died, one by one? What do I want your charity for...I managed fine till now!"
Jeremy averted his face to avoid looking at Tommy; he couldn't help it. The boy's words had hurt him deeply, and he was sure that the guilt would haunt him forever. He had been a selfish, idiot, but now he wanted to make up for it; he couldn't bear the brunt of this child's misery all his life!
"Listen Tommy," he began, his voice not quite steady. "Please, come with me, it won't be charity, you'll work in the house where I lodge, but at least you'll have some money of your own, and a house to live in. Please think about it," he pleaded.
The boy was about to say something, but he suddenly grinned slyly, and seemed to look at someone, or something, that Jeremy and the tearful Georgiana could not quite fathom. "All right," he said quietly. "I'll come."
Jeremy was a bit surprised at this sudden change of heart, but decided not to say anything about it, and just take the boy home with him.
The next morning, Jeremy was awakened by a knock on the door. He got up with a big smile, happy with himself and the entire world. He opened the door to find a pale, worried Mrs. Higgins behind it. "Good-morning Mrs. Higgins!" he chirped and then stopped smiling when he saw her expression. "What's wrong?"
"That boy you got yesterday..." she began.
"Tommy? Yes what about him?" he demanded, with a sudden sense of foreboding.
"He ran away Jeremy and --"
"What?? He ran away??"
Mrs. Higgins nodded and sighed. "And that's not it, Jeremy. He even raided the larder before leaving."
Jeremy's eyes clouded over with anger and disappointment, and kicked the door viciously in his anger as he cursed all that he ever believed in. Why Tommy, why??
Jeremy stormed out of the house, absolutely furious. He could not believe that Tommy could have betrayed his trust in such a way, how he had resorted to stealing... stealing! when he had offered him all the comforts that he could possibly fathom. But no ... that sneak had to run away, that selfish urchin did not want to better himself, all he could think of was of living his own lowly life, wholly ungrateful to the few who really cared about his useless existence. Jeremy was so upset that he did not even try to reason out things, to give an old, unfortunate friend the benefit of the doubt; all he wanted was to find Tommy Smith and shake all the bravado out of him.
He walked on briskly, oblivious to all the passers by that were looking at him curiously, wondering what could have incensed such a pleasant looking young man so early in the morning, and even more curious to find out what on earth he was doing, walking unaccompanied to the most ill famed area of the Town. At the pace he was walking, it did not take Jeremy really long to reach the rooms that once hosted the Smith family, and seeing that, as usual, nobody was around, he stormed in the neighbour's house. "Tell me at once, where is Tommy Smith?" he demanded.
Mrs. Banks looked at the livid young man in front of her in absolute astonishment. Never had Jeremy entered her house without knocking on the door, and never had he spoken to her in such a manner. She gave him a stern look and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I don't know where he be!" she replied warily.
Jeremy's eyes narrowed to little slits and he took two menacing steps towards the woman. "Really?" he asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper. "I don't really believe you Mrs. Banks, so now cut the lies and tell me where that dear boy is. We need to have a little chat."
Mrs. Banks did not answer, but her eyes flickered instinctively to a door at the back of the room. Jeremy touched his hat and with a polite "Ta!" flung it open, only to find a staircase behind it. He surmised that it led to the roof, so he glanced back at her suspiciously but proceeded upstairs anyway. Did Tommy actually live on a roof? As he approached the roof, he could hear the sounds of an argument, so he paused a little, listening carefully.
"Oh Becky you pig! That pie was supposed to last us for three days!"
"Please don't shout at her Tommy!" said a small voice, probably of a young girl. "Becky hasn't eaten for days! You know she can't go and get some for herself!"
At this Jeremy walked up the remaining stairs and found himself facing a group of very young, ragged children, feasting on the food that had, till the previous night, been safely stored in Mrs. Higgins' larder. Tommy stared at him in dismay, and went red from embarrassment and shame. "How did you get here Jerry?" he whispered incredulously.
Jeremy grabbed him roughly by the shoulders. "Well done to you Tommy Smith!" he cried. "You resort to stealing now, don't you? And after all I've done for you! I can't believe you could have done this ... all you deserve is a good thrashing!"
Tommy shook himself free from the young man's iron grip and glared at him. "I've received enough thrashings in my life to last the likes of you ten lifetimes! Come on, Jerry, beat the hell out of me if you like, but see if you'll ever get anything back from me!" he screamed back defiantly. "You think I would have come to your pretty little home and leave my friends behind me to starve to death? I don't know what kind of selfish beasts your lot is, but we are certainly different here!"
"Don't talk to me like that, boy!" Jeremy was completely speechless. Whatever it was he had expected, it surely wasn't this. He hated to admit it, but Tommy had just displayed a sense of loyalty that was rarely to be witnessed in life. "Whatever you say, Tommy," he continued. "But what you have done is despicable, all you had to do was tell me about your friends, and we would have managed something out!"
Tommy laughed scornfully. "Really? Where do you live... in a prison? Where would you put a group of orphaned children if not at the workhouse? And where would you put her?" he demanded, pointing to a little girl who was cowering in a corner. She was staring at them, but although her eyes were wide open, she was seeing nothing.
"Oh my God she's blind," whispered Jeremy before he could help himself.
"Exactly," replied Tommy. He paused a little and looked at him with a gentler look. "Jerry, I appreciate what you are trying to do for me, it does not show, but I do. But I just can't leave my friends here, and because of you yesterday I couldn't go out and look for food...I'm sorry that I had to steal from you, but it was not the first time and it will certainly won't be the last. It's our only way of survival."
Jeremy kneeled down beside him, completely ashamed of his previous outburst. Here he was, fuming and raging because of some stolen pies, while this group of children lived in complete misery on the roof of a family that had hardly enough for itself, and let alone for them. They did not deserve this, but what could he do? He was not poor to be sure, but he was not well off either. His income was barely enough to keep him going, could he help these poor kids?
Of course you can Jerry Philips! If it's not you, who will it be?"
He pulled Tommy towards him in an affectionate embrace, and the boy, breaking down, started sobbing uncontrollably. "I can't change the world in which you live in," Jeremy began, his own eyes brimming with tears, "but I will do everything anything in my power to improve it for you, even if just a little bit. And that, my dear friend, is a promise."
The other children gathered up around them, and that minute was the start of a new commitment, a new friendship, that was to change all their lives forever.
The months thus passed in a very similar manner for Tommy and his friends, as well as their adopted "big brother". Jeremy visited them every single day, and he never went empty handed. With the excuse of paying them for some little errand invented at the spur of the moment, he took them blankets, clothes as well as a daily ration of food. Very often, he used to find all the children waiting for him but at others he just used to find Becky, who was the only who couldn't work as all the others. Even six-year-old Davie tried hard with the rest to earn something extra so as not to be wholly dependent on Jeremy's good heart. Becky could not see him, of course, but she learnt how to recognize his step and was satisfied to sit on his lap and listen to his soothing voice as he told her all about his life and that of his family in the country. Georgiana wrote to them regularly and nothing delighted them more than to listen to Jeremy as he read her letters, and this was incentive enough for them to learn how to read and then write back to her.
It was now July, and he had decided to stay in London for the summer, to be with the children. The city was rather dreary at that time of the year, because most of his University friends, including Gordon, had left to visit their respective families. Gordon had spent half of his holidays in Scotland, and then at Longbourn, to be fussed upon by Mrs. Bennet. However, he had now returned, accompanied by Kitty, and they were staying at the Darcy mansion with Elizabeth and the family before they went on their journey to Haydon. In less than two months' time, Jeremy was to become an uncle, and from the letters he had received from Julianne and Robert, he could see that they could hardly wait to become parents. Mrs. Bailey, on hearing of the his impending "unclehood", set about buying the most sophisticated of baby clothes and made him promise to give them to his sister on his arrival. The pile of clothes for the child had grown quite a bit, and what with them and the presents he had bought for the baby he was forced to forego quite a few of his belongings to be able to pack his trunks.
On the evening before their departure to Northinghamshire, the whole family was in the drawing room, where Mrs. Philips was excitedly talking non-stop about her dear daughter and her handsome husband, who "loved her so so much!" while Darcy, Gordon and Mr. Philips pretended to be listening respectfully. Darcy could still not quite understand what Mr. and Mrs. Philips (especially the latter) were doing in his house, but he had been married long enough into the family to realize that there were times when one had to submit, grin, and bear it all. He envied his son's ability to sleep at all times and after a number of anecdotes, he employed the evening in playing with Ben's curls as he slept soundly, his head on his father's lap. Jeremy was totally oblivious of the other guests, as he sat loyally next to Georgiana all evening and took all the riches and beauty of the house with respectful awe and admiration. He made a note in his mind to tell the children all about it when he came back as a good old uncle from Haydon; Becky especially, would just love to hear it.
"You're very quiet Mr. Philips," began Georgiana quietly, as she handed him a cup of coffee.
Jeremy gave her a warm smile and looked at her happily. "I'm just so pleased to see you again, Miss Darcy! I will have so much to tell Tommy and the rest when I'm back at Oxford," he replied.
"I really wanted to visit them one last time before leaving," said Georgiana wistfully. "It's such a pity that I had to stay here and welcome the rest of our guests, and take Mrs. Philips on a tour," she added with a sigh and a mischievous grin. Then she suddenly remembered whom she was talking about and hastened to add an apology. "Oh Jeremy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to speak disrespectfully about your mother!"
Jeremy chuckled. "You wouldn't have been the first!" he replied. "But give her a chance Georgiana, she is a very good sort of woman. Of that I can assure you."
"I will have a lot of time to do that in the future, Jeremy," she said softly, giving his hand a small squeeze.
He looked at her adoringly but before he could formulate a reply they were interrupted by a large commotion in the street. They could hear people crying and running about, which was a first in an area occupied by the richest and noblest families in the country. Darcy called out for the butler and immediately asked him what was wrong.
"It's a fire, Sir," replied the butler a little breathlessly. It was the first time, Darcy noticed, that he had seen any emotion in the man's face. Seeing their startled look, he hastened to add. "There is nothing to worry about, the house in question is at the end of the road."
Jeremy caught his breath and paled. "What house are you talking about" he demanded, alarmed
"It's the Bailey house, Mr. Philips."
What happened next seemed to Jeremy just like a dream. Before anyone could stop him, he rushed out of the house and ran down to the house that was going up in flames. He was completely oblivious to the people who were trying to stop him from going near it, all he could think about was the well-being of that old lady with whom he had spent many a happy hour and who he began to love and respect almost as a mother. He reached the house and saw that most of the servants were out safely, watching in dismay as the grand building crumbled in front of their eyes. "Where is Mrs. Bailey?" he asked frantically.
Her maid, Anna, just looked at him sadly and slowly shook her head. "There was no way we could reach her," she said tearfully.
Jeremy grabbed a pail of water from one of the people who were vainly trying to put out the flames and flung it over himself before he ran towards the door. "You're just a bunch of cowards!" he yelled and disappeared in the flames.
The moment he entered the house, he knew that he had made a mistake. He was immediately surrounded by a wall of flames and he knew that it was probably already over for the Mrs. Bailey. He went down on his knees, trying to gasp for the remaining breaths of oxygen that survived through the smoke, but very soon he found himself choking. Jeremy tried to crawl his way to the front door; his lungs were burning with lack of air, and he could almost feel his heart bursting with panic and fear. Red spots swam before his eyes and before he fell lifeless to the ground, he caught a glimpse of his trousers catching fire...
"Robert? Can I come in?" asked Julianne's voice from behind the closed study door.
"Of course you can dearest," replied Robert and then looked up to find that his wife was already seated in front of him, grinning happily.
"Wives, obey your husbands"...now where was that written?
Oh come on Rob! You wouldn't want her in any other way!
And he wouldn't, he honestly wouldn't, he thought to himself as he looked at her closely. Julianne's was looking radiant with her happiness, and although he was eagerly anticipating the birth of their baby, he had to admit that he really would miss this "pregnant version" of his wife. He sighed happily as he gazed at her, but then had to blink twice to catch the gist of her conversation.
"Isn't it lovely?" she began. "Gordon is coming too!"
"Oh really," he said, not very enthusiastically. "And what is he going to come here for?"
Julianne looked surprised. "Why, he is my one of my closest friends, and he'll be accompanying Kitty of course! And then, he is almost a doctor after all."
Robert looked at her seriously. "Isn't Dr. Westacott enough for you?" he asked cautiously.
"He is a very good doctor, that I grant you," agreed his wife, "but it will be better having one living in the house - you know, just in case," she added.
"Are you worried about the delivery?" asked her husband, surprised. They had never really discussed that topic.
"I am a bit," admitted Julianne. "I mean, look at me! You married a cow!" she cried pointing to her large belly.
"No dearest, I'm sure it was you in that white dress when I married you at Longbourn...and darn pretty you looked too!" he joked. She gave him a watery smile, and looked anxiously at herself again. Robert got up and took her in his arms. "You're worried about how all that will come out, aren't you?"
Julianne glared at him fiercely. "All that happens to be our baby, Robert Darcy! But well...yes, I am bit concerned with that factor," she conceded.
Robert kissed her gently and smiled when she tucked her head under his chin. "I know I have no direct experience about childbirth," he began, "but women have been giving birth all the time and most of them even chose to do so a second, a third, or even a fourth time!"
"Are you sure it was their choice?" asked Julianne wryly.
Her husband shook his head in defeat. "Listen, look at your mother, she had two at the same time! And your Aunt Bennet - five girls! Elizabeth had Ben and--"
"All right Robert! Point well taken!" interrupted Julianne, trying to snuggle even closer, "now cuddle me and be quiet," she added happily.
Robert obliged gladly, at the same time counting in his mind the guests that were to witness his ascent to fatherhood. When he arrived to Jeremy and Georgiana, he gave up, and seriously wondered where on earth he was going to put them all. Suddenly, they heard a loud knock on the door.
"Who is it?" he demanded. He didn't like to be interrupted when he and his wife were having their "cuddle".
"It's Merriman, Sir. We have received an express from London addressed to you. It seems urgent, Sir."
The only thing that kept Robert from giving in to his fatigue and fall asleep on the plush, velvet cushions of the carriage was his wife's stifled sobs. Those, and the terrible heat that was at the moment hitting the whole county. They had been traveling for almost five days now, and in a few hours' time they would hopefully reach London. These first days of August had been hot, uncommonly so and Robert could not help feeling concerned as he looked at his wife, and once more offered his hand in a futile attempt at comfort. Julianne was almost eight months pregnant, and he was well aware of the fact that she should never have attempted the journey. They both were haggard, tired and pale, and he could not even imagine what his wife must be enduring. He felt guilty for allowing her to have his way on him, but what could he have done? How would have Julianne endured the trauma of waiting day after day for an express that would tell them whether or not Jeremy had ... survived? He was her twin brother after all, and they were bonded in a way that he would never understand; Julianne needed to be with her brother, and Jeremy was dying -- seriously injured! he told himself severely.
But what was "seriously injured"? What did it mean? And when did one stop being seriously injured and become "dying"? Why God? Why are doing this to us? Things had been going so well, and now the Lord had decided to stab them all once more in the back. Robert was ashamed of his thoughts; for a long time in his life he had not given serious thoughts to the role religion played in his life. When he discovered his father's illness, he had raged against all that was in heaven until he had seen the happiness that his father felt till the very end. Phillip Darcy had never been afraid of his death, he had told his son "to trust in the Father, because He knows best". Did he have to do so now? Did he have to trust in the Being that was once again threatening to tear his family apart with grief? The same One that was almost certainly going to take the life of a young man whose future lay ahead of him? For he was certain that Jeremy would die...or maybe he was dead already... These thoughts went through his mind as he drifted off drowsily, but a little gasp from the shaking form next to him made him sit up immediately.
"Julianne? What is it my love?" he asked, as he saw her white face and the ragged breaths that she was taking.
She shook her head and gave him a shadow of a smile. "It's nothing, I assure you. I just had a little contraction, that is all."
"A contraction?" echoed Robert in alarm. "The baby ..." he trailed off, looking at her fearfully.
"Robert, do not concern yourself. It's just the traveling and the worry. They're not doing much good to me I imagine." She paused for a moment, and tears once again threatened to overflow from her eyes as she remembered the cause for their journey. "Poor Jeremy," she whispered.
Robert pulled her close to him and kissed her. "Julianne, please calm down now. Do it for your sake and the child's. We will soon be in London, and you'll have all your family with you. What would your parents say if they saw you in such a state? Jeremy will be fine, he's strong, just like you."
Julianne was not to be convinced so easily. "The express arrived at Haydon five days ago, Robert. Anything could have happened in five days! What if it is too late...what if my brother is already dead by now?"
Robert embraced his wife tightly as she sobbed on his shoulder, and stroked her head helplessly. What Julianne had said was just what he had been thinking, but never, never would he admit that to her.
Everyone loves Jeremy.
That was Georgiana's recurring thought as she lay on the carpet beside Jeremy's bed, with her head on the soft mattress, his hand in hers. And who would not? asked Georgiana to herself as she looked up to the gaze at the face she loved so much and saw him lying there as if asleep. She wanted to see his blue eyes, but they were closed, and had been so for days, since that terrible fire. From tradesman, to the neighbours, to the returned students at Oxford...they all wanted to know how young Jeremy Philips was faring, and were all shocked when told that they could do nothing but wait, and pray. Georgiana could still remember that day, when she had stood in front of the burning house screaming his name hysterically until Elizabeth had taken her in her arms, trying to soothe her. And then when they had taken Jeremy home, she had fainted on seeing him, unconscious and with his leg...
Georgian pressed his hand gently, willing it with all her heart to move. It was all in vain. Jeremy was in a deep coma and even the great Dr. Harrison had said that he did not know whether or not he would survive it. What else had he said? thought Georgiana, trying hard to remember.
The fever is gone, but we don't know how much damage there is in the brain. He might or might not wake up again, and if he will, with that burnt leg, he's in for a bad time.
Gordon had washed and bandaged the wound every few hours, and it was getting a bit better. Georgiana smiled sadly. What a good man Gordon MacKay was...if Jeremy survived, it will be thanks to him. But why did she say "if"? Jeremy will wake up, and they will get married ... but it was so hot ... it made one want to go to sleep ... she wondered what their future children would look like. Georgiana drifted in and out of sleep; she had not eaten or drank for days and she was very weak. The tension is killing me, she thought to herself, but I don't care. Wherever you go Jeremy, I'll come too.
"Georgiana? Come on dear, get up," said a gentle voice behind her as a pair of strong arms lifted her from the carpet.
"Leave me alone, Fitzwilliam," she said groggily.
"Come now," he said soothingly. "You must come and eat with us, it will only be for half an hour."
"No! I don't want to leave Jeremy alone," she lashed angrily. "Just go away!"
"You're being absurd now," he replied. "This is for your own good. Elizabeth will stay with him while you're eating."
There was a pause and Georgiana stood glaring at him. "I guess you're happy now, aren't you?" she asked coldly.
"What???"
"You always hated Jeremy, and now he'll die, and I won't be able to marry him," she accused him rather irrationally.
Darcy knew that the tension and fatigue had taken over his sister but her words hurt - a lot - nonetheless. At that moment, Elizabeth entered the room, and from her indignant look Georgiana knew that she had overheard the last bit of the conversation. Darcy didn't trust himself to speak so he just nodded in his own unique way and left the room.
Elizabeth walked over to Georgiana her voice charged with anger. "That was cruel and uncalled for, Miss Darcy," she said in clipped tones.
"But true, nonetheless," replied Georgiana. She knew that was fighting a losing battle but she obstinately wanted to stick to her point.
"I think you are unaware of a piece of news, probably because at the time you were sobbing on my shoulder. Who do you think dragged Jeremy out of the house?" Georgiana stared at her, speechless and pale. "Yes, my dear, it was your brother."
Robert alighted slowly from the coach and reached out to help his exhausted wife. She looks terrible, he thought worriedly, and she did. Julianne could hardly stand on her feet as the walked up the stairs to the house, and she kept grimacing with almost every step she made, though she tried hard not to meet his eyes.
She was greeted by Darcy and her parents, who mirrored the fear and anxiety in their eyes. For once Mrs. Philips did not complain about some pain that was ailing her, but stood silent as she embraced her daughter and sobbed along with her. Mr. Philips then almost carried her with Robert to the nearest couch, ignoring her protests and her requests to see Jeremy.
"You must rest first, then you'll see him," said her father.
"But what if it is too late?" she protested.
"It is not too late, your brother will be fine," was his calm answer. "Now rest yourself and the child, this journey was too much for you."
Robert made his way slowly towards Gordon, Kitty and Darcy, who were standing a little apart to leave the Philipses alone with their worn out daughter. "Tell me, how is Jeremy? Really?" he asked them seriously.
Gordon shook his head and Kitty squeezed his hand in sympathy. "I don't know," he replied. "We can only wait."
Elizabeth came down the stairs with Georgiana in tow. She ran quickly to Julianne and embraced her lovingly, while her sister-in-law flung her arms around her brother and sobbed her apologies. "I'm so sorry, Fitzwilliam, you saved his life, I didn't know!"
Darcy stroked her hair gently. "We are all on edge, Georgiana, so don't think anymore about it," he replied soothingly. "But don't imagine that I hate Jeremy, I love you and I respect him because I know he's the only one who can make you happy. He will be all right, I'm sure."
Suddenly they heard a loud cry of pain and gasp. Elizabeth lay gaping at her cousin, who was panting breathlessly. "Mr. MacKay!" she cried in panic. "Come quick!"
Gordon ran towards them and gaped. "Oh no," he whispered.
"Is it what I'm suspecting?" continued Elizabeth.
Gordon nodded. "Julianne's waters broke, Mrs. Darcy," he replied calmly.
Robert gazed at them horrified. "It can't be," he said slowly. "The baby is due in September."
"How long have the pains been going on?"
"I don't know. Julianne complained about some pains in these last few hours but we thought it was just the journey..."
"It then seems that the baby has decided otherwise," answered Gordon. "There is not an instant to lose...call a doctor!"
All eyes turned towards him, looking at him expectantly. He shook his head slowly, "not me," he began, "I can't..." The only time he had had direct contact with a human body was when all the medical students had cut open a dead man during an anatomy lecture. He remembered that day vividly, and the night too, which he had spent vomiting with Jeremy's sympathetic pats on his back. They couldn't expect him to help Julianne give birth, did they? At that moment Julianne let out another scream and Robert was at her side, holding her hand and looking at him with pleading eyes. "Gordon, it's just you," he said. "Help us. Please."
God. GOD! Why are you doing this!
This Gordon repeated over and over again as the time passed and Julianne writhed and screamed with the agony of childbirth. Kitty stood beside him at all times, and although her presence was a relief for him, he wished with all his heart that he could just crumple up on the floor and bawl. Jeremy was in the other room, sinking fast, while Julianne was giving birth to a premature baby, with great risks on her life, and these were his two best friends in the whole world.
Darcy was asking much the same thing as he looked at his cousin powerlessly. Robert was pacing helplessly round the room, starting with every scream his wife uttered behind the closed door. "Not my wife," he whispered helplessly from time to time. "Don't take my wife as well, I cannot live without her!" Darcy went up to him and led him to the couch, wondering what on earth he could say to help him out of his agonizing wait.
At that moment Gordon opened the door. The white sleeves of his once immaculate shirt were rolled up, and there was blood in his hands. "Call Dr. Harrison," he said breathlessly. "Call him now."
Robert sprang up and grabbed him by the collar. "Why?? What is the matter? What have you done to her?"
Gordon shook himself free and faced him squarely. "There are some complications ..." he began.
Julianne's husband paused for a second and then spoke in a menacing tone. "Let me tell you one thing, Gordon MacKay," he said, his voice not above a whisper. "If something happens to my wife or my child, I will hold you responsible, you hear me? And I swear I'll kill you!"
Darcy grabbed him and pulled him back. "You don't know what you're saying Rob!" he cried. He then turned towards the horrified Gordon. "You go back MacKay, and I'll call Dr. Harrison." Gordon nodded, went back inside the room, and gave Julianne one long look.
And to him it seemed that all the world was coming to an end.
Just how long is this going to take? thought Darcy for what must have been the millionth time. Elizabeth was with Kitty and Gordon and regularly came to give them the news that all was going fine, but now it had been almost an hour since the last "update" and he was beginning to suspect that Julianne had now reached the final stage in her delivery. Georgiana had refused to budge from Jeremy's side and he had not seen her in ages. She was too worried about her fiancé to be able to cope with any other worries.
Darcy's eyes rested on Mr. and Mrs. Philips. It had been a very tough day for them, with their two only children fighting for their lives in different rooms. Mr. Philips had his arm round his wife, who had her head on his shoulder. She had not once uttered a complaint or a comment, but had sat there for hours finding comfort in her husband. Darcy realized that the Philipses did love each other, although they did not seem to show it much usually. He was surprised at that, but also very pleased, though he didn't know exactly why.
You are at last taking an eager interest in your "Aunt Philips", aren't you?
Absolutely not!
Really?
Oh just shut up!
He shook his head disbelievingly...had he just been having a mental argument? Did he really tell himself to shut up? Just who had he been talking to? Darcy got up suddenly and walked up to his cousin, who had stopped his frantic pacing and stood now looking at nothing out of the window. He was definitely in need of some verbal communication with another human being.
"Would you like some more coffee, Robert?" he asked quietly.
Robert gave no answer, and Darcy thought that he might not have heard him but, before he could reformulate the question, the worried husband spoke up. "This is God's punishment for all my mistakes, isn't it Fitzwilliam," he said tonelessly. It was not a question, but a statement of fact.
"Punishment? Don't be absurd! God does not "punish" people, and anyway, what could you have done to deserve this?" retorted Darcy in amazement.
"I've been a horrible husband, and I'm sure I'm going to be a awful father too," was the reply.
"Listen, if you are referring to the problems you and Julianne had after your father died, well, those are over now, aren't they?"
"Of course, but still ..."
"Robert, God does not punish people for being unable to get over their grief immediately. It's true, you weren't really the ideal husband at the time, but who is?" continued Darcy earnestly. "And then, why do you think that you'll make a bad father anyway?"
Robert gulped and averted his gaze. "It is the result of something that I have been thinking since Julianne...since all this started," he began.
"And what was that?"
"Darcy, if Gordon came out of the room this very minute, telling me to choose between the life of my wife and that of the baby," he paused and turned his eyes to face his cousin's, his voice quivering as he continued. "I - I would choose Julianne." Darcy stared at him for a moment, trying desperately to think of something to say, but Robert misinterpreted the silence. "You see? You agree. I don't even deserve to have a family."
His cousin put his hand on his shoulder and smiled at him gently. "Robert, you know how much I love my son and how happy he made me and Elizabeth since his birth," he began. Robert nodded slowly, and frowned, wondering where the older man was getting to. "I can't quite imagine what a life without Ben would be now, but I have to admit, that if during Elizabeth's pregnancy I was faced up with the same decision, I would have immediately chosen to save my wife."
Robert looked at him astonishment. "You would have?" he asked.
Darcy nodded. "I can't really generalize on all the men that populate the earth, but I can tell you from the limited experience I have that it is much easier for women to be bound to the unborn child than for us men - and in a way, that makes sense because we are not the ones to carry them for nine months," he said, trying to be absolutely rational and detached, though the sweet face of his son kept hovering in front of his eyes. Poor boy, he had been in the nursery with the nanny for days now without seeing his parents, and it was soon his second birthday too, his father thought guiltily. Shaking those feelings away he tried to continue for Robert's sake. "I think that most men would choose their wife over their children, although that choice becomes impossible after they're born."
"After they're born?" echoed Robert thoughtfully. "What does it feel like?"
Darcy smiled wistfully as he remembered the happy tears he had shed when he had seen Benjamin for the first time. "It's impossible to explain," he replied. "All you know is that you will love them, whatever they do, and wherever they choose to go; and you will love them forever."
Robert smiled at his cousin enviously. "I hope to experience that," he whispered.
"I'm sure you will," replied Darcy encouragingly. "And you will do so with your wife."
His cousin gave him a long look that displayed all the gratitude and unlimited admiration he had for him. "I think that I should spend some time with my in-laws," he began, grinning slightly. "In the meantime, go to your son."
Darcy opened the nursery door slowly and saw Ben sitting on the lap of his young nurse, Miss Jones, as she was reading him a story. When he caught sight of him, the little boy frowned and scrambled down quickly to be able to give his back more pointedly to his father. Darcy sighed guiltily and politely asked the young woman to leave him a few minutes with his son. Miss Jones smiled sympathetically at her employer, and left the room, wondering how the prodigal father would actually manage to cajole forgiveness from his obstinate son.
Darcy walked towards Ben, who had decided to sit down on the carpet and ignore the presence of his father. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked politely, sitting down beside him and thinking how ridiculous this polite repartee would seem to anyone who did not have Ben William Darcy as a son. The boy stuck out his lower lip and looked disapprovingly at his father, who wished that his son's eyes did not look so much like his mother's when they looked up angrily at him. "Or else we can play together for a bit," he continued hopefully.
Ben shook his head. "Ben alone," he grumbled.
Darcy couldn't quite understand whether his son meant that he had been alone for a long time and was not particularly happy about it, or whether he wanted to stay on his own that very moment. He decided to tackle the issue from the former point of view. "Ben, I know that Mamma and I haven't been near you for some time but you must try to understand. We have all been waiting for Auntie Julianne's baby." The moment he said that, Darcy knew that he had made a mortal mistake. His son had the propensity to hate anyone or anything that might in some way take away the attention of his parents from him.
"Baby?" he asked, his eyes flashing as angrily as the eyes of a two year old, usually amiable, boy could.
His father bit his lip nervously. "Yes, a baby just for Auntie Julianne and Uncle Robert to keep," he continued hopefully.
Ben took this bit of news down logically. Much to his father's delight, he smiled happily. "Baby? Juwanne?" he asked, forgetting all the rancour he held for his papa as he scrambled on his lap to hear more. "Ben see!"
Darcy wondered whether or not to take his son near his uncle while the latter was waiting, when all of a sudden they heard the sound of the doorbell from downstairs and the sharp voices of little children as they seemed to argue with the butler. "Baby!" yelled Ben happily and he flew out of the door and would have tumbled down the stairs had Darcy not caught him almost in mid-air and tucked him safely under his arm.
The two went to the front door in much the same manner and to Darcy's surprise they found that the butler was indeed arguing, with a small group of ragged children who were insisting to see Jeremy. "Jerry is our friend!" insisted a boy who seemed to be the spokesman. "We have to see him!"
"Uncle Jelly?" asked Ben surprised.
"Who are you?" asked Darcy, in his astonishment quite forgetting his usual good breeding.
"You don't know us," replied the boy, rather rudely. "But Jerry does."
The master of the house sighed audibly, wondering how much more of his own relatives he still had to discover, while Ben, waved as well as he could while still under the grasp of his father. "Well, you can't see Mr. Philips at the moment," he said thoughtfully. "But I guess you can wait." Then he turned to his housekeeper and the butler. "Feed them and clothe them," he ordered as he went back up the stairs, leaving a whole group of people looking at him with their mouths wide open.
"You see?" said Davie. "Tommy, I told you that not all rich people are cruel!"
Darcy had hardly any time to prop himself down on an armchair with Ben before the door opened, and instead of Elizabeth coming out with reassuring news, there was Gordon, looking disheveled, tired but very pleased with himself, though he was trying hard not to show it.
"Well?" demanded Robert expectantly.
"Go see your family," he mumbled, still not quite amiable after the scene they had had before.
Robert rushed to the door while Kitty and Elizabeth went out to join the rest of the family, wide smiles gracing both their faces. Gordon was making his way out too but the new father stopped him midway. "MacKay, I'm not really good with apologies, though God knows I have to make use of them twenty times a day due to my terrible character," he began. "But all I want to say is that I'm sorry for what I said before and that I'll be forever grateful for what you did."
Gordon was not the type to bear malice, and this frank apology did nothing to make him break the rule. He smiled self-consciously at Robert and shook hands with him cordially. "It's all right," he said in his Scottish drawl. "However, I don't want to have anything to do with the birth of your next baby," he added, joking.
"Believe me, Gordon, having another baby is the last thing on my mind at the moment," said a soft voice from inside.
On hearing Julianne, Robert dashed inside and slammed the door in Gordon's face. "Thank goodness I don't take offence," he said wryly. Kitty came up to him and led him out of the room, where she embraced him warmly. "I'm so proud of you," she said softly.
The shock of all that they had all passed through suddenly hit Gordon, and he trembled visibly in his fiancée's arms. "If she had died..." he began helplessly.
"But she did not die!" replied Kitty determinedly. "You saved her life, and that of the little baby. You should be satisfied with yourself and your profession."
Gordon still looked downcast. "But it will not always be so," he insisted.
"Yes it will not always be so, but most of the times it will." Kitty was not to be contradicted. "Gordon, you will be a wonderful doctor! I can still see you now, so calm while Julianne was in such a terrible state. I could have fainted and you were there, as cool as a cucumber!"
On remembering the state of affairs in that room during the delivery, Gordon turned green. "Excuse me Kitty, I think I need to throw up!" he gasped as he rushed away from her.
Kitty looked at him incredulously, laughing slightly as she wondered if she had not spoken too soon after all.
Elizabeth was on her way to Jeremy's room to give her sister-in-law the good news, when she suddenly met Georgiana half way, as she was running towards the room where the rest of the family was assembled. "Georgiana! It's Julianne! She had her baby and they're both fine!" she cried breathlessly.
Georgiana cried out with happiness and embraced Elizabeth enthusiastically. "I was just coming out to fetch you and Fitzwilliam. You will not believe what has just happened!"
Robert ran to his wife's bed and kissed her joyfully. "How are you my love?" he asked softly.
"Well, all things considered, I'm fine," she replied, with her usual impish grin. She pointed to the tiny bundle that was lying next to her and looked at her husband with tearful eyes. "Say hello to your daughter," she added happily.
Robert uncovered the baby's face and found himself looking in a pair of large blue eyes. He could not believe that this perfect little gift was for him, to share with the person he loved most in the world. "She's so lovely," he said, his voice breaking. "She's perfect."
"Gordon says that she is perfectly all right, and that she will soon grow as large as any other baby," explained Julianne hugging her lovingly. "I guess your mother's angel saved another life," she added softly, remembering the conversation they had had over the baby's cradle.
At the moment, Georgiana flung open the door and stormed inside, beaming. "Jeremy!" she cried. "He's awake, he's talking, oh I'm so happy!" Seeing the happy assemblage, she blushed bright red and with an uncharacteristically wide grin, she was off as quickly as she came.
Julianne gasped in amazement and turned to her husband, feeling that all the joy she was feeling was too much for her. Robert kissed her and hugged her tight to him, and then they both turned their attention once again over to their child. Robert knew exactly at that moment what Darcy had been trying to explain to him. He kissed the cherubic cheeks, whispering, "I love you" at the same time. He did love his daughter. And he knew that, like Julianne, he was going to love her forever. "She seems to be a miracle worker. Don't you agree Ju?" he asked smiling.
"You're right. Everything seems to be going well since she came along," agreed his wife tenderly. "She's a gift from heaven, just for us," she added.
Robert was still overwhelmed by the whole experience. "It's like having a little angel for us to love and keep. Do you think she'll like me?" he added self-critically.
"I'm sure she will, dear. Her mother does, you know," said Julianne kissing him gently. Looking down in her daughter's eyes, which were so like her own, she asked God to name her, and He answered immediately. "Welcome to the family," she whispered tenderly, "my sweet Angela Darcy."