Generation One: Chapter 7 - Joyful Bundles

Chapter Seven - Joyful Bundles 

The last six months have flown by. The time for my newest nephews or nieces to arrive rapidly approaches.  Both of my sisters are far gone with child, and Caroline is more than ready to welcome her firstborn. While I truly believe she is pleased to be a mother, pregnancy has not been kind to her.  Her early illness, and as she progressed her back ached fiercely. There is little that could be done for her, and it has exasperated her temper.

Alfred, on the other hand, is beside himself with joy over his new child. He loved his first two, for all their faults, and mourned them bitterly when he lost them. I only hope, for the sake of this young one, that they take after their father or grandmother more than their mother. 

In a way fitting to everything about their parents’ relationship, the newest Davenpore made their arrival in a startling and unexpected way. We were having a quiet evening in the study, when Caroline got to her feet and grimaced in pain. In no uncertain terms, she made it clear that the baby was coming NOW.

 I took Alfred down to one of the parlors to wait, just as we had done when Alexander was born. Just like my other brother in law, Alfred paced, unable to sit still. He confided to me as he walked, that the third time his child was born he was nervous. I sympathized, but privately I wondered if I would get the chance to be an anxious father-to-be.

After waiting hours, staying there into the night, Charlotte came down and gave the anticipated news of a healthy child. “Congratulations are in order, Alfred,” said my wife, “Caroline has this night presented you with a son.”

 He did not stay. He went as fast as an old man can to where his wife and child waited for him. Charlotte and I went to our own private parlor off our quarters. “So my sister is finally a mother, and Alfred has an heir, and we have another nephew. I wonder when Alexa will make me an uncle again. Any time, I suppose.”

My wife chuckled. “Was Alfred as nervous as you tell me Andrew was, even though he has had two other children before?” 

“Yes.  He could not sit still. He would pace, sit down, and jump up and pace some more. I hope he will be a good father to his new son. He did a good enough job with his first born, but perhaps his grief over his first wife hurt his efforts with Priscilla.”

“Perhaps so. But I choose not to grieve his failings with her, for if not for your distaste for her perhaps you and I would never have met. I know you will be a good father,” She paused for just a heartbeat, and then said, “in seven months or thereabouts.”

I jumped to my feet. Charlotte rose more sedately but with a wide smile on her face. “Really, dearest? You are with child?”

“Yes, Charles, I am. I have no doubt. I take it then that you are pleased with my news.”

 “How could I not be? I love you and I want children, and soon our wishes will come true.”

I reverently placed my hand over where my child lay, Charlotte’s abdomen still flat for now. “Hello, little one. You are too small to hear me yet I think, but know even now I love you and your mother very much.”

Charlotte beamed down at me, I grinned back up at her. We stayed like that for a few giddy moments, and then I straightened and kissed her gently. “You have again made me the happiest of men.” I whispered as I pulled away.

 We sat back down on the couch, and we kissed again. “That is only fair, as you have made me happier than anyone has a right to be.” She said.

Pregnancy agreed with Charlotte as much as it did not with Caroline. She fairly glowed from the joy in her heart. Even early her back did ache frequently, so I did what I could to ease it, as I was, as my wife reminded me, somewhat responsible for her state. 

Caroline seemed pleased when I told her about the baby. But she didn’t waste any time reminding me of the deal we had stuck. “Remember, brother,” she began, “that when your heir comes of age I will choose his bride. Rest assured; I will choose a suitable young woman for him. If this child is male, then I will have to note the females born in our circle the next few years. He will do better if they are close in age.”

That struck a nerve. “Even if my firstborn is male, Caroline, I may not name him my heir.” I said, doing my best to keep my tone mild.

“Not name him your heir?! But Charles, tradition dictates that the first male born inherits.” Caroline replied, flabbergasted.

“I see no reason this should be so. Why should the first son be more suited for what is required to be Master of Pemberly then a second son? Or even a daughter? I have always felt that perhaps out of the three of us, you were the best suited to the business aspect of our lives. I know you plan to manage your husband’s assets when he dies, especially if his time comes before your son is of age. I intend, when my children are old enough, to choose an heir who will be best suited to be so. If Charlotte and I are not blessed with more children than this first one, then they will be heir.”

Caroline seemed at a loss for words. That was a first. After a few moments, she regained the power of speech. “Fine. Choose your heir as you will. But it will mean I will be less able to pick an appropriate match. What will you do if you have no sons? Lose the Darcy name forever?”

“If that proves to be the case, then perhaps a young man can be adopted so he will carry the Darcy name. But there is no need to think of such things now. We will cross that bridge when we come to it.” Her only response was a glare. I walked away, unwilling to argue anymore with my sister. 

Unconsciously, my footsteps carried me to the library where my wife was playing chess. She is brilliant at it. As I entered, she was bent over the chessboard, contemplating her next move.

 Then she noticed me, and seeing the expression on my face came and put her arms around me.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

I cupped her lovely face in my hands, and then I kissed her. “It is now.” I replied afterwards.

 She smiled at me, and I joined her in the chess game. Even though she usually wins, it is entertaining to battle it out on the black and white board.

This is what my relationship is like with Caroline, I thought, a game of chess.

“Charles, can you believe we will soon be welcoming our firstborn? I cannot wait to hold our child in my arms.” My wife stood in front of the cot where our little one would soon lay, her hands cupping the swell of her stomach. I smiled as I watched her. 

I walked over, and rested my hand over where the baby lay.

“Yes, my child,” I said to them, “I love you very much. And soon you shall be here.” I smiled up at Charlotte, and she smiled back down at me.

As it turned out, we did not have much longer to wait. I was awoken that very night to find Charlotte was going into labor. 

After mild panic on my part, I went to call for the doctor and then went down to the parlor to wait for news. 

Alfred joined me, little Alfred in his arms. The son clearly takes after the father in looks, but with his mother’s and grandmother’s hair.

 Alfred put the toddler down. The small boy turned and tottered over to me, showing off his new walking skills. I opened my arms and lifted him high. He squealed with delight, and I wondered if I would soon have a daughter or a son.

I set my nephew back down and gave him his favorite toy bear to play with. The bear kept him occupied while his father and I waited.

Finally, after ages, my sister came down the stairs, carrying with her the news I had been waiting for. 

Her face was cool, not revealing anything.  Her words held not hint either. “All has completed successfully. Your wife waits for you upstairs.”

I did not wait any longer. I was up the stairs as fast as my legs could go.

I looked into our bedroom, and I could see Charlotte sleeping in our bed. She needed her rest, so I did not wake her. I turned and went toward the nursery, where my child surely was.

There, lying in the bed that I and my sisters had once slept in, lay my son, tiny and perfect.

 I lifted him into my arms, and I was amazed and I knew I would never be the same.

“Hello, my little Henry.”