Noelle ~ by Alicia
Mrs. Collins waddled into the breakfast room rubbing her swollen belly. "It must be almost time. I feel I have been in this state forever!"
"The child will come in God's time, my dear," replied her husband with extraordinary wisdom.
She sat down at her place and noticed a letter awaited her. It was from Mrs. Darcy at Pemberley. She had not quite finished reading through her friend's descriptions of happiness in her married life, when her husband inquired as to its contents. "What has Mrs. Darcy to say?" he asked in a tone that intended to convey both censure and nonchalance.
"The Gardiners have arrived at Pemberley with their children."
Mr. Collins shook his head. "Lady Catherine's fears have come to fruition. The presence of such a mistress has demeaned that noble estate."
"Lady Catherine will learn to accept her nephew's choice in time."
"He would be wise to seek her forgiveness, even though nothing can now be done for it."
"I believe I will have Thomas find some evergreens to decorate the sitting room with today."
"Whatever for? I will not be here tomorrow. I believe it best if I simply accompany Lady Catherine back to Rosings directly from church and stay through to dinner. It is quite unfortunate that you should be confined during this season. I am sure Lady Catherine would prefer to have you present for the boar's head dinner."
"I dare to hope she will forgive my absence."
"I am sure she will. She is, after all, such a generous and beneficent soul."
"Indeed. I will be in my sitting room this morning."
"Excellent. You should reply to my cousin's letter. Our intimacy with Rosings places you in an excellent position to advise her on earning Lady Catherine's approbation. Perhaps I will insert a short letter of my own with yours -- portions of my sermon on humility from a few weeks ago will do very well, I think."
"Speaking of sermons, are you not engaged to meet with Lady Catherine regarding tomorrow's?"
"Yes, I cannot risk being tardy." With that, Mr. Collins quitted the table and soon left the house.
Charlotte was quite content in her solitude. After starting a letter to Elizabeth she took a short walk and then spent the better part of the afternoon knitting baby clothes. Mr. Collins was home in time for dinner and retired early. Tomorrow would be a big day for him.
Charlotte walked through the house, smiling to herself as she observed the holly adorning the mantel in the drawing room. She was happy. She looked forward to future Christmases when she would have the company of her children -- Christmases that would be celebrated with a Yule log and family games. She quietly retired to her room alone.
On Christmas morning, Charlotte dressed quickly -- somehow excited about the day even though she would be spending it alone -- and descended the stairs for breakfast. Before she was halfway down the stairway, however, she felt a sudden wetness in her skirts. Her midwife had warned her of this possibility. She immediately returned to her room and rang for her maid. After changing into a fresh nightgown she instructed the maid to send for the midwife.
Mrs. Jameson arrived within a half hour to assess the situation. Upon learning that Charlotte's pains had not commenced, she directed the maid in preparing a draught to induce the birth. She sat with Charlotte to do needlework and wait. At the hour when church service was ended she asked, "The service will be ended now, ma'am, shall I send word to Mr. Collins?"
"Oh no, thank you, Mrs. Jameson. He is engaged to dine with Lady Catherine and I would not wish to interrupt him. We do not know how long it will be until the baby arrives."
"Indeed, we do not, but I have a feeling it will not be long now." Suddenly a tortured sound emanated from Mrs. Collins. "Have the pains begun, then?" asked Mrs. Jameson rising from her seat. Charlotte could do nothing but grasp at the bedpost and nod until the pain passed. Mrs. Jameson applied a cold compress and talked soothingly to Charlotte. And so they passed the morning, the pains coming ever more frequently, and lasting longer with each wave.
At one point, during a short respite from the pain, Mrs. Jameson asked if there was anything else she could do to make Charlotte more comfortable. "I wish to read," she said, pointing to a book on her dressing table.
"To read?" asked the midwife as she handed her the book.
It was the Bible. Charlotte opened it to the Gospel of St. Luke and began reading the Christmas story aloud. Mrs. Jameson smiled and listened quietly until the next wave of pain struck. She took Charlotte's hand and soothed her through the pain. By the time Charlotte closed the book, she was exhausted from the now almost constant pain. Yet it was still many hours before Mrs. Jameson announced, "It is time," and summoned Nancy, the girl in Charlotte's employ who had been waiting on her mistress at Mrs. Jameson's direction during the course of the day.
It was another two hours before Charlotte, feeble and weary from the exertion of childbearing, heard the piercing cries of her babe. Nancy wrapped the child and placed it in Charlotte's arms to nurse. Charlotte was delighted to see her darling child, so beautiful, so healthy, so perfect.
"A lovely, strong girl, Mrs. Collins," said Mrs. Jameson.
Charlotte beamed with pride and contentment. She knew Mr. Collins would be disappointed -- after all he had the entail on Longbourn to think of and would not wish to find himself in Mr. Bennet's situation -- but she had secretly hoped for a daughter. "I shall call her Noelle," she said.
When Mr. Collins arrived at home, Thomas mentioned that Mrs. Jameson had been to the house for a spell. Mr. Collins was fatigued from his long day of feasting and socializing. Nevertheless, he stopped at his wife's room to be sure that she was well. When he entered he found, to his surprise, Nancy sitting in a chair by the fire dozing. He looked towards the bed and saw Charlotte sleeping peacefully with a small bundle next to her. He took a few steps closer and saw the tiny face of the babe shrouded in a blanket. "At last," he squealed, reaching for the child to examine it. Noelle screamed and awoke her mother, who was in much need of sleep, as well as Nancy. Everyone listened while Mr. Collins exclaimed over the birth of his first child, lamented the fact that it was a girl, but reassured himself and his wife that the next child would be a male, and then -- finding his attempts of comfort inadequate to quiet the babe -- handed her back to her mother.
Charlotte reached for the child, and said "Noelle."
"What was that my dear?"
"Noelle. I intend to have her christened Noelle."
"What sort of name is that? It will not do."
"It is French. It means 'born on Christmas.'"
Collins, certain that he would persuade her away from such an odd name on the morn, bid her goodnight. The next morning, Lady Catherine was informed of the birth with celerity. She sent word back to the Collinses congratulating them on their achievement and advising them on every particular of caring for the child. She also communicated her approval of the unique name, much to Charlotte's relief. Her husband immediately forgot his opposition to such a name, reminded the household that he had liked the name all along, and thanked Charlotte for making such a sagacious choice.
Every Christmas thereafter, Charlotte and Noelle read the Christmas story together after dinner. The years added more children to their little party and their Christmases abounded in all the gaieties which that season generally brings.