Page 110 of A Most Beloved Sister
“Vut the maid said—”
“Which maid?” he asked sharply.
“The vun oo took care of Nanny and be.”
“Ah. Well, Georgiana, she was a lazy girl who took advantage of the fact that our father was a cruel man. She would not have wanted you to get to know your neighbors, for then you would have learned that she was not earning her wages. She lied, Georgiana, just as Mrs. Younge did.”
“How vill I ever ve avle to know the difference vetween a liar and an honest verson?” Her voice was so forlorn, Darcy could not help but feel the urge to punch something or someone.
“That is what you have me for, and Elizabeth, as well as Mrs. Hurst. The more time you spend with other people, the more practiced you will become at discerning between people who care for you and those who do not.”
∞∞∞
That conversation was one of many such topics that Georgiana had with her brother, Elizabeth, and others atNetherfield. In many ways, Georgiana was like a child learning how to walk for the first time, even though she was nearly as old as Kitty.
Louisa and Georgiana spent many an hour poring over fashion magazines and looking at fabric samples. After a few days, Georgiana was persuaded to allow the local seamstress to come to Netherfield to take her measurements for new gowns.
“For you are nearly the age to come out, my dear,” Louisa said, “and your dresses should reflect that. Besides, every girl should be fitted for dresses whenever the opportunity arises!”
Kitty came that day to join in the merriment, as she was also making purchases for her trousseau, and Darcy was never so pleased as to hear his sister’s giggles when he walked by her chambers during the consultation. Even if the woman had the worst stitches in England, he vowed that he would pay whatever the cost for the joy it brought his sister to be so included.
∞∞∞
As March came to a close, Louisa became more and more uncomfortable, which is something she hadn’t thought possible. One evening, as she reclined on a plush settee in the shared sitting room between her chambers and her husband’s, she felt a sudden rush of warmth between her legs.
“Oh dear!”
Hurst, who had been sitting on a chair at her side, reading his book, was instantly on his feet. “What is it, Lou?”
“I think… I think I might have… urinated on myself.” She flushed a deep red and wished she could sink into the floor.
She’d been struggling with controlling her bladder as the babe grew, which Mrs. Fields had assured her was entirely normal. Still, it was one thing to barely make it to the chamber pot,and it was another thing to have your husband witness such a repugnant act.
“Could you call my maid, please?” she whispered, keeping her eyes firmly on her clasped hands in her lap.
“Of course!” Hurst rushed to the bell pull, then immediately returned to his wife’s side.
“You needn’t stay, you know,” she said quietly.
“Nonsense,” he replied firmly. He then lifted her chin gently until she was looking at him. “You have nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about, Louisa. You are carrying our child, and I can’t imagine there’s room in there for much else. You have seen me at my absolute worst and stood by me, and I shall do the same for you.”
Louisa felt her eyes water, and she pressed his hand to her cheek. “Thank you.”
Her lady’s maid came into the room and, assessing the situation, said, “Oh dear, missus. Let’s get you up from here and into some dry things. Never you mind about anything else.”
As Louisa rose to stand, she felt a sudden sharp pain along her abdomen, causing her to double over. “Oooh!”
“Louisa?” cried Hurst. “What’s the matter?”
The maid let out a gasp. “Missus, I think yer waters are broken.”
The pregnant woman looked down at her gown and where she’d been sitting; the damp spot was tinged pink as opposed to yellow. “What does that mean?” she asked, frightened.
“It means your baby’s coming,” the maid said. “We’d best send for Mrs. Fields and Mr. Jones and get you into the birthing bed.”
A comfortable cot had been placed to one side of Louisa’s chambers, with fresh linens and comfortable cushions for the delivery. As the maid helped her mistress slowly towards herroom, she looked back at Hurst, who was gaping at his wife. “Mr. Hurst, the midwife—now!”
“Oh, right! Of course, at once!”
