Sadly we have come to the end of this tale. I hope you like this nicer ending.

Miraculous Cure

'I am glad you called me Mrs Darcy,' Mr Sanchez shook his head in disbelief the moment he felt the offending object.

Elizabeth only allowed her eyebrow to rise. 'My husband informs me,' she stated in a cool voice, 'that many doctors and physicians opinions were sought at the beginning of his infirmity.'

'I can guess at their diagnosis,' Sanchez shook his head, 'and the advice they give Mr Darcy.'

'You do not agree,' she asked in a sardonic tone. While Elizabeth Darcy wanted to hope, she'd felt any optimism dissipate in the last days. Fitzwilliam's condition seemed to deteriorate suddenly. Hot, feverish, last night her husband had rigors.

'No,' the doctor stated with a decided frown. 'How could this man live with a curable disease all these years? It is a simple case of misdiagnosis.' Noting the woman's, Sanchez tried to calm his fury for the Darcy's. 'Forgive me Mrs Darcy, but had your husband sought my advice I would have been able to help immediately. I have seen this and the more deadly form that others professed. They present the same way and if left untreated this to can cause death.'

'Pray tell me, Mr Sanchez, what is it you believe ails my husband,' Elizabeth couldn't take any more of this man's dissembling.

'It is not a growth but a cyst,' he announced. 'Allowed to fester they grow and cause much pain. On occasion they are filled with fluid that causes sickness. Once I have extracted the contents, I am certain everything will go back to normal, if your husband has the tenacity of sprit to overcome the infection.'

'Infection,' Lizzy questioned. In truth the thought sent a shiver of apprehension through her body. She had watched over her boys as they overcame childhood illnesses that often took babies far too soon. Her offspring had the tenacity of their mother and managed to survive every attempt of the cruel world to take them from her bosom. She hoped her husband had enough courage and energy left to affect a positive outcome should this man be correct.

'Please, let me alone,' Mr Sanchez dismissed her. 'I will call when I am finished. In the meantime, I would welcome Mr Darcy's valet attending me.'

'My husband was present for the birth of all three of my children,' Elizabeth forced a calm tone. 'If you think I will move from his side now, you are very much mistaken.'

'Then go to my leather bag for I must have the needle. I wish to find out what is in this cyst,' Mr Sanchez tested her fortitude, keeping the woman's gaze. He became the first to look away.

Hiding her grimace, Lizzy did as bid. Some of the tools in his kit resembled those of the butchering kitchen. Shuddering at the thought of which he would use on her beloved Fitzwilliam, the deadly looking glass and metal apparatus almost made her want to vomit. Yet Elizabeth forced herself to watch on in anger as he plunged the needed into her husband's enlarged testicle. Darcy screamed through the laudanum haze. Mr Sanchez insisted on tying his patient's hands to the bed posts and Hobbs, his valet to hold him still until the procedure ended. She could now understand why. Wishing to tell the man to stop, Lizzy pursed her lips. Horror struck her when a thick dirty brown liquid filled the glass syringe.

'This, Mrs Darcy, is pus mixed with stale blood and may be found in wounds that are infected,' Sanchez explained when he'd not frightened the woman away. 'It causes great illness and death. I believe there is so much in this testicle that its weight is pulling on your husband's abdomen. That is the cause of the pain he is currently experiencing but only in some part. However we will have to wait several days to make sure.'

'I have nursed my children through the worst,' Lizzy gritted her teeth. 'I shall not leave my husband unless it is necessary.'

'This could go one of two ways,' Sanchez warned. 'Either the sack will refill, forcing me to start the procedure over again. Should that occur, the only method of cure will be to castrate your husband as we discussed in our letters. The other involves complete recovery from the pus that has travelled to his stomach. I am afraid we are in for a long wait either way.'

Elizabeth sat by his beside and waited. She could not be there twenty four hours a day but stayed as long as she could. Alexander, Edward and George were too small to understand their father's condition. However, Mrs Darcy insisted they come to their Papa's sickbed, if only for a few minutes each day.

The next day his testicle had not refilled and Elizabeth sent up a prayer of thanks. This did not seem to make Mr Sanchez happy. He insisted they wait at least a week before he returned to London. In that time, he would teach the local physician his unique technique. Even then, he recommended Mrs Darcy continue to monitor her husband for any signs of increase. If it did, they may still have to remove it. He wished to see the patient in a month.

'Darcy,' she whispered when he showed signs of waking the next day but did not need the laudanum.

Unable to speak for a parched throat, she forced her husband to drink. He felt hot and looked at her in confusion. This ailment she knew all too well. He had taken ill, the doctor called it infection but the children experienced such symptoms multiple times. This, Elizabeth Darcy could treat easily with the tools at hand.

'Mrs Reynolds,' she approached the housekeeper, 'Mr Darcy's condition has improved however he looks much as the boys did when the caught a bad cold last winter.'

'I will have the herbs prepared,' she stated, bustling off to the special part of the pantry reserved for such tonic provision. 'If that is all that ails Mr Darcy, we will soon have him back to normal.'

'Yes,' she whispered, 'we shall.'

The day that followed saw the fever break. No longer did Darcy require pain medication or grip his belly in discomfort. Without the laudanum, Fitzwilliam's breathing normalised and his colour improved. On the second day he wanted sustenance. Mrs Reynolds happily prepared chicken soup and had to aid Mrs Darcy to keep him abed to eat.

'I will not be treated as a convalescent,' he demanded of the women surrounding him. They would not allow him to dress and come down stairs. Even Hobbs took his Mistress's side in this and refused to attend his Master. Darcy knew he felt well on the way to recovery. Indeed he had not felt so well since returning to Pemberley with his new wife. That had been a little over four years in the past. 'You and I sent Mr Sanchez back to London yesterday as I have astounded even the good doctor with my recovery. I wish to be with my family and the father my son's deserve.'

'Well,' Lizzy once again arched an eyebrow, 'I know you are improving with that masterly tone, dearest. However in this I will not give way. We have another child expected in six months. Young Alexander is only three and six months, Edward just two and George not even walking. They are happy in the nursery for a day or two more while their father's health improves. However your wife if much relieved.'

'Elizabeth,' Darcy glared.

'Do not try that tone on me,' she returned his glower in equal measure. 'This is one time you shall not get your way, Mr Darcy. Please rest, dearest, I want you always by my side.'

To say he accepted her ultimatum would be placing too fine a point on the situation. Grumbling, Darcy found himself restricted to his chamber for another three days. His only compensation, his wife came to him every night and lay with him. Mr Sanchez demanded they resist intimacy for at least a month. Elizabeth managed to hide her smile. Mr Darcy had not been in any state to claim his husbandly rights since the night she suspected they conceived this latest child.

'Mrs Reynolds,' Darcy roared.

His voice echoed through the halls as he called for his most trusted servant. He had been back in charge of his estate for four months complete. After an early morning ride, he'd gone to check on his heavily pregnant wife only to find her very distressed.

'Yes,' the woman suddenly appeared.

'Call for the midwife, Mrs Darcy's labours have commenced very suddenly,' he stated, a wild look upon his face. 'It is far too early,' he managed to convey the level of his anxiety.

'I do not think so,' Mrs Reynolds smiled. She and Mrs Darcy had been keeping somewhat of a secret. 'Have her waters burst?'

'That,' Darcy stated with fury, 'is why I am calling for the midwife.'

'All is well,' the older lady took him to the kitchen as she demanded the servant's assistance. She sent a boy for Mrs Merriweather and the upstairs maids to start the kettles boiling.

'I must go to Elizabeth,' Darcy started once again, only to be stopped by the elderly retainer.

'You have time for a cup of tea and to settle your nerves,' Mrs Reynolds demanded, placing his favourite biscuits before him. In the months since his recovery, she had forced weight back to his gaunt frame. Mr Darcy almost resembled himself in looks and personality. 'Josephine has been sent to be with Mrs Darcy, along with Sarah. Both have assisted Mrs Merriweather with the birth of your other children. You know this will take hours and you wife prefers to walk for the first part. You will be needed as her time grows closer.'

Mrs Reynolds could not have been more incorrect in her assumptions. Mrs Merriweather arrived but an hour later. She took one look and went to work.

'This child is in a great hurry to enter the world, Mrs Darcy,' she stated. 'I do not think it will be above two hours before you are welcoming the latest edition.'

Anne Darcy came into the world with an indignant cry. Her hair already the same colour as her mother, specks of brown and green could be discerned in her tiny eyes which opened for a few seconds to study her father. He fell instantly and irrevocably in love with his daughter.

'Sarah,' Louise instructed the maid, 'do you have the second receiving blanket. Good, then bring it here. We have a second child. Only a little while longer, Mrs Darcy and we shall see little Anne's twin.'

'You knew,' Darcy accused.

'Suspected,' Lizzy wished to harm him right at this moment in time.

'Come now,' Louise recalled their attention to the job at hand. 'Do you wish another son or daughter?'

'Does it have enough fingers and toes,' Darcy commented, cradling his little Anne protectively in his arms. 'I could not care so long as my wife is well.'

'Darcy,' Elizabeth cried indignantly.

'Well,' Louise handed off the second child, 'it looks like you have two daughters.'

'Jane,' Lizzy glared at her husband, demanding the second child be given to her immediately, 'I want to call her Jane. I can see she has blond hair like my sister.'

This pregnancy, coming so soon after Darcy's illness and the birth of their boys, proved too much for Elizabeth to recover easily or quickly. Never sickly she chafed at the restrictions her body placed upon her. Her husband insisted upon a wet nurse to aid in feeding two little girls. Often he could be found in the nursery, leaning over Anne's cot. She seemed an exact copy of his wife. He loved Jane also but felt a special connection to his eldest daughter even now in her infancy.

'I will never let anything happen to you,' he promised, glancing between the cribs. 'Never will I allow a man to manipulate you as I did you mother. You shall marry good men that you love. I promised Mr Michaels and God that day we walked to Longbourn Parrish that I would spend the rest of my life making up for my behaviour towards my beloved Elizabeth.'

'I forgave you,' she'd silently slipped behind him, 'the same night. I think my body knew how much you would come to mean to me before my mind and heart engaged. You are a good man, Fitzwilliam. I cannot and will never understand how desperate you must have been in that moment. You overcame every rational thought, every principle that had been bred into you since the school room.'

'If you had told me to leave,' he swallowed hard, remembering the courage he'd needed to approach her in the middle of the night, 'I would have. I can only anticipate you would believe me. I had no intention of taking you against your will. I hoped our discussions demonstrated your passions in the marriage bed would rival your passions against me. I needed you as I have never needed another before.'

'I believe,' Lizzy teased, 'you knew me better than I knew myself.'

'I love you, Elizabeth,' he turned to her, touching foreheads and whispered the words he'd used every day since they arrived at Pemberley to start their marriage.

'And I you,' she allowed a hand to cup his cheek. Covering it with one of his own, they kissed, tenderly, lovingly and demonstrating devotion towards each other one would not have though possible given the way their relationship commenced.

'I despair of Anne ever marrying,' Darcy frowned to his wife of thirty years as they sat in their private parlour.

Alexander was to be marred on the morrow from Pemberley Parrish. Edward had taken orders and had the living at Kempton with his wife of six months. George came from the war office in London with General Richard Fitzwilliam. It appeared the young man would never marry just like his uncle. Early in life the Darcy's found he rejoiced the company of ladies, just as Richard did but preferred the company of men for more intimate encounters. They formed a very tight bond to keep their socially unacceptable habits well hidden.

'I am sure my mother would have said the same about me,' Lizzy still teased her husband. 'But I think we are to be treated to a fine sceptical when Lady Helen's family arrives at the church. I believe our Anne has taken quite a dislike to Viscount Pembroke.'

'Indeed,' Darcy stated. 'They shall be much in company, as Lady Helen is to be our future daughter.'

'Six months, dearest,' Lizzy continued embroidering a handkerchief with the initials AP. She would give it to her future son in law on his wedding day. 'I believe you will have to give away your favourite in six months. I can only hope Jane's confinement will not interfere with that wedding.'

And that ladies and Gentlemen is another story which I might write at another time.