The dance came to an end. Captain Collins escorted Kitty back to her family but then bowed and withdrew.

“But what is this? Where is Captain Collins going?” asked Mrs. Bennet. “Why is he not staying to talk to us?”

“He is engaged to Miss Porter for this dance,” said Kitty. “But never fear, he has asked to take me into supper.”

Mrs. Bennet was in raptures.

“What did I say? I knew how it would be. Kitty, my dear, you have never looked better. You are becoming quite a beauty. You are in looks tonight. And dance! I have never seen anyone lighter on their feet. We will have another wedding this year, you mark my words. Did I not say that Captain Collins was just the man for you? And what a life you will have! All the fun of being married to an officer, and then Longbourn when your father dies. What a thing for Mary and me, being secure in our home!”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, but Kitty was too happy to mind about her mother’s matchmaking, and even the thought of living with her mother after her father’s death did not dampen her spirits. Indeed, she said she was sure that, by then, she and her husband would have enough money to build a dower house for Mrs. Bennet.

Elizabeth was by this time so far rested that she was able to dance once more. She had not taken more than a dozen steps, however, when she gave a grimace.

“Is anything the matter?” asked Darcy.

“No, just a twinge,” she said. “But I think I had better sit down.”

He gave her his arm and they rejoined her family. Mrs. Bennet asked if she was quite well and Jane looked at her in concern, but Elizabeth reassured them. Fortunately for Elizabeth, after a few minutes’ fussing, Mrs. Bennet saw Captain Collins coming towards them, for supper had just been announced.

“Now, Kitty, stand up straight,” she said.

“Mama!” replied Kitty.

“Ah Captain Collins, there you are,” said Mrs. Bennet. “All set to claim Kitty. It is a pleasure to see you both together, never were two people more well suited. I am sure your brother must feel it as much as we do. How fortunate for us that he was able to visit you this week.”

Captain Collins looked surprised and said that he was not aware that his brother was in the neighbourhood.

“Not in the neighbourhood? Why, Captain Collins, here is your brother before you,” she said, stepping back to reveal him.

Captain Collins looked at her enquiringly, but Mrs. Bennet did not notice his perplexed expression, for she was too busy congratulating Mr. Collins on having such a delightful brother.

“But that is not my brother,” said Mr. Collins. “He sent his apologies this afternoon, business preventing him from attending this most worthy and illustrious gathering.”

“Not your brother?” asked Mrs. Bennet, staring at Mr. Collins. “Of course he is your brother. He was introduced to us by Mr. Withington and Mr. Withington would not lie about such a thing.”

Elizabeth stifled a gurgle of laughter. “Mama, Mr. Withington introduced him as Captain Collins; he said nothing about him being Mr. Collins’s brother. Collins, you know, is not an uncommon name.”

Mrs. Bennet was dumbfounded. But she quickly recovered herself.

“No, indeed, it is very common,” she said, sounding very much aggrieved. “I never met with such a common name in my life, indeed it is very vulgar. Twice now my girls have been deceived by a man named Collins.”

“Mama!” said Elizabeth.

But Mrs. Bennet was unrepentant until Captain Collins apologized most gallantly—and with laughing eyes—for not being the brother of their friend.

“He is no friend of mine,” said Mrs. Bennet bitterly.

Elizabeth was mortified, and Darcy touched her arm in silent sympathy.

Mr. Collins, meanwhile, apologized so many times for not being related to the most admirable captain that Mrs. Bennet at last recovered her good humour. A good-looking Captain was not to be overlooked, even if he was not in line for the entail.

It was time for supper. Captain Collins escorted Kitty, and the rest of the guests began to file through to the supper room.

As Elizabeth took Darcy’s arm she gave another grimace and said to Darcy, “Do you know, I do not feel like eating. In fact, I am feeling a little unwell. I think I will retire for the night.”

Jane, who had been following Elizabeth into supper, said, “Would you like me to come with you?”

“Yes,” said Elizabeth. “I rather think I would if you do not mind leaving your guests.”

“They are all going into supper and after that, you know, they will be going home,” said Jane. “The weather being so bad, we thought it best to set an early end to the evening. I will stay with you until supper is over and then I will come down again to bid them farewell.”

Supported on one side by Darcy and on the other by her sister, Elizabeth made her way slowly upstairs, but by the time they reached her room it was clear that she was feeling more than a little unwell.

The baby was on the way.

Darcy, feeling suddenly helpless, stood awkwardly beside the door.

“The doctor is downstairs,” said Jane. “Go and fetch him?”

Glad, for once, to be told what to do, Darcy ran downstairs and went into the supper room. He looked about him and caught sight of the doctor at the end of the table. He went over to him and spoke to him in a low voice. The doctor nodded, excused himself, and rose to his feet. Bingley, sensing something was happening, followed them, leaving the rest of the guests to enjoy themselves.

“I think it would be as well if you were to have a message sent to the midwife,” said the doctor as he began to mount the stairs. “Her name is Mrs. Parsons, and she lives on the far side of the village green. The footmen will know where to find her.”

Darcy gave instructions for the midwife to be fetched, then made to follow the doctor upstairs.

“No,” came a voice at his ear. “You cannot go up. They will not let you in the room. I know. I tried.”

Darcy noticed Bingley for the first time. His thoughts had been so full of Elizabeth that he had not seen him, but he was very glad of his friend’s presence. There was something reassuring about Bingley’s good-natured countenance and his friendly voice.

“Of course. You know. You have already been through this,” said Darcy.

He tried to speak lightly, as though his wife had a baby every day of the week, but his voice was full of anxiety and his face was strained.

Bingley put a friendly hand on his arm.

“Come and eat some supper,” he said. “Nothing will happen for quite some time, believe me.”

“Some supper?” asked Darcy incredulously, looking at Bingley as if he had run mad. “You cannot expect me to eat at a time like this.”

“It is difficult, I know, but you must make the effort. It is going to be a long night and you must keep your strength up.” As Darcy continued to look scandalised at the mere thought of eating when Elizabeth was suffering, Bingley added, “Elizabeth might need something, and you will be no use to her if you are weak from lack of food.”

Darcy’s attitude changed at once and he followed Bingley into the supper room, but his eyes kept drifting upwards as though he thought that, by straining them, he might be able to see through the ceiling.

Bingley led him over to a spare chair and with difficulty Darcy drew his eyes away from the ceiling and sat down. The long table was laid with a snowy cloth on which porcelain and silverware glistened. Pyramids of fruit were set in the middle on ornate stands, and every kind of dish was set on silver platters in between.

Darcy looked at the appetising food as though it were ashes, for he could not think how he was going to eat any of it, but he knew he must make the effort, and with reluctance, he took some chicken and cold beef. He lifted a forkful of chicken to his mouth but it tasted like sawdust.

Around him, the other guests talked. He tried to take an interest in their conversations, but everything they said seemed shallow and inconsequential and he could not bring himself to join in. Indeed, he scarcely knew how to answer them when they asked him a question.

The grandfather clock’s pendulum seemed to swing in slow motion, as the seconds seemed like minutes and the minutes passed like hours.

After answering one particularly stupid question he found himself wishing the guests would hurry up and leave, but when they had at last all departed and he had retired to the drawing-room, he realised how much more difficult it was without their presence. The noise and the necessity of making the odd response to a question had kept him turning outwards, but now he found his thoughts turning inwards. So it was with relief that he heard the door opening and Bingley entered the room.

“Well, that is the last of them. They have all gone,” said Bingley.

“And your sisters?” asked Darcy.

“Louisa and her husband have retired for the night. Caroline offered to help with Elizabeth, but Jane told her there was nothing she could do and so Caroline too has gone to bed. Mrs. Bennet was with Elizabeth, but as she would talk of nothing but Kitty and Captain Collins, Jane has managed to persuade her that she should retire.”

“So Elizabeth is with Jane as well as the doctor and the midwife?” asked Darcy.

“Yes.” He spoke reassuringly. “She is in good hands.”

Darcy nodded, then walked over to the fireplace where he stood lost in thought.

“Come, you cannot stand about like this,” said Bingley. “You must do something. Have a hand of cards with me.”

“I cannot think of cards at a time like this.”