A pair of gentlemen rushing past doffed their hats. A curious dog followed them for a block or more and then lost interest. Sleigh bells rang in the far distance. They heard intermittent laughter from unseen dwellings, and then a harp begin to play “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” in a home gaily lit with candles. They slowed for a moment to rest and listen as faraway voices sang, “ Good tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy… ” But too soon, the song ended, and there was silence surrounding them.
The truculent maid kept lagging behind, mumbling angrily and struggling with her nearly empty suitcase. “Mary, please keep your eyes forward. I don’t know why you are so concerned with what is behind us. Please walk faster.”
Amanda tried to remain calm. Although they were to have waited for Richard’s arrival to help spirit them from the house, he was late, and she had panicked. He would know to find her at the Darcys’ house. He had told her she would be safe there.
It was then she noticed that the Darcy’s ornate wrought iron gate was unlatched and creaking, swinging freely. Apprehension grew within her. Following her gaze up the drive to the vast portico, she found it odder still that one of the double front doors was also open, illuminated from within by a dimming fireplace at the rear of the two-story, white-marble foyer. The front lamps were cold and unlit.
She walked hesitantly forward, drawing closer and closer to the forbidding black rail that surrounded the property, her heart pounding with unknown fear, unrealized danger. The night was so very quiet, eerie and still. Try to think logically now, ’manda, even if you are a woman. Her husband’s oft quoted and lovingly meant jibe caused her to grow bolder. After pushing back the imposing gate, she made her way up the circular drive to the front, setting Harry down finally before she attempted climbing the brick stairs. She instructed Mary to wait for her at their base and to hold her son’s hand then cautiously made her way to the door, calling out a “Hello!” as she pushed the front door fully open. “Mrs. Darcy, are you here?”
She heard a woman scream.
Chapter 2
Lizzy was struggling to rise when she heard the voice calling out to her from the entrance below. “Help me, God.” Her plea was nearer a whisper. With her legs trembling, her palms scraped and bleeding, her heart pounding, she managed to pull herself into a crouching position then lost her balance once more and screamed as she fell sideways, hitting her stomach against the chair. The pain was excruciating, whether from the fall or from within unknown. Terrified for her unborn child, she wrapped her arms around the little one and began to weep. Within moments, a presence knelt before her, and she blindly reached out to it, feeling a rush of relief when she clutched onto the warm, soft hand of another human being.
“Thank heaven you’re here.” She gasped for air then slowly opened her eyes to tiny slits. “By the way, who are you?” She was staring into the face of a stranger.
“Mrs. Darcy, please forgive me for barging into your home. The door was open downstairs, and I became alarmed when I heard your cry. Here, allow me help you.”
Elizabeth took a few more moments to catch her breath, resting back on her heels to look curiously about. Before her was a woman around her age, blonde and very attractive, dressed in an old-fashioned cloak and bonnet. Behind the woman stood a terrified-looking maid holding the hand of a frightened little child. Elizabeth inhaled deeply, a modicum of calm slowly returning. She shook her head. These histrionics will not do, she reasoned. I must get a grip on her emotions. Elizabeth gazed intently into the strange woman’s eyes.
“Forgive my present state. I am not usually so blunt when speaking or lax in my hospitality.” Suppressing all of her instincts toward hysteria, she forced herself to smile. “It appears that you have me at a slight disadvantage, however, madam, since you seem acquainted with me, although I do not recall the pleasure of meeting you before.”
“I am Amanda Fitzwilliam.”
“I am exceedingly grateful to meet you.” Lizzy’s eyelashes began to flutter furiously. “What did you say your name was?”
Amanda was too distracted to hear the question as she helped support Lizzy in her struggle to stand. They lurched first one way then the other, amidst the associated grunts and “oofs” and “oh mys.” There were one or two very polite apologies regarding unexpected toe injuries, but by and by, they achieved an upright position in relatively short time.
In thanks, Lizzy squeezed Amanda’s hand and then rested her weight momentarily against the other woman’s supportive body. Having regained some of her composure, Lizzy pulled back slightly to search her face.
“Are you Fitzwilliam’s Amanda?”
Diverted with clearing a path through the debris for them to walk, kicking away a small footstool and then shoving the table away slightly with her hip, Amanda answered without thinking. “No, you have it backward. I am Amanda Fitzwilliam.” Amanda quickly looked up and laughed in her embarrassment. “Oh! Yes, I am Colonel Fitzwilliam’s wife, Amanda, and you know that is the very first time I have been able to say that to anyone.” She was beaming.
“I am Lizzy Darcy.” Elizabeth’s eyes began to tear up with her joy. “You’re American, did you know that? What am I saying? Of course you know that. I sound like an idiot. We’ve been expecting you”—Lizzy hugged Amanda warmly—“just not today.” Then, just as suddenly, Lizzy doubled over in pain.
“Forgive me for stating the obvious, but I do believe your labor has begun, Mrs. Darcy.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard and shook her head, her body beginning to quake. “I cannot be in labor, because, you see, I have it on good authority from my physician that I am not due to deliver for another four weeks. These back pains I have been experiencing all week are false. Evidently they are the product of my overly educated female brain.”
She stopped to press a hand against her mouth. “But truth be told, I am a bit apprehensive, Mrs. Fitzwilliam, a bit overwhelmed. I am beginning to think he has been wrong all along.” A sudden sob escaped her before she regained her poise. “You see he never listened to me nor examined me, never even acknowledged how large I had become when I questioned him. My only solace was that he had engaged a noted midwife.”
“Well, there seems to be distinct evidence that your doctor has miscalculated, Mrs. Darcy. May I ask where everyone is? You say a midwife is to be here? If she is not already in residence, someone should be collecting her immediately.” The quiet in the house was fast becoming oppressive. Amanda hadn’t seen any servants, and there had been no candles lit in the foyer and no footman at the door.
“Many of the servants have gone home to their families, celebrating Boxing Day. The midwife is terrified of Mr. Darcy’s ranting and will not come until she is assured that the doctor is also here. The doctor refuses to be in the same room with my husband a moment before it is necessary. My sister-in-law has run off and abandoned me, and last but certainly not least, Mr. Darcy and I have had a disagreement, and he left in great anger.”
Elizabeth halted her rant for a moment to wipe tears away with the back of her hand. She pointed at the doorway. “You see, he broke my door there, barged in like a drunken madman.” Lizzy choked on her sob. “God, I love him so.”
Amanda looked in amazement at the door frame. “My stars, Mr. Darcy did that? It’s hard for me to imagine him losing his temper at all. He is such an elegant gentleman.” Another pain caused Lizzy to unexpectedly bend over, nearly toppling Amanda with her sudden shift in weight. After a moment, she relaxed, and they continued their slow progress.