“Far from it. Of course, I’m a man of simple needs: country rather than city living and a bountiful library. Of what I wish to speak is Lizzy’s health. Upon our arrival, I’d planned to address my concerns to Mr. Darcy, but as he’s not available, I’m pleading with you for information. Plus, I’m uneasy with your aunt’s appearance at Pemberley — whether she would attack Lizzy. I tell you, Miss Darcy, I’ll not have it. I love all my daughters, but Elizabeth is the one most like the Bennet family. The rest are very much Gardiners, displaying characteristics of my wife’s relatives.”

“What do you require of me, Mr. Bennet?” His request made her uncomfortable. No one at Pemberley discussed Elizabeth’s gestation.

“Mr. Darcy’s letter described Lizzy’s mental withdrawal. Your brother expressed his anxiety for Elizabeth, and in her letters, my daughter’s innate wit and sauciness is missing. How bad has it been for Elizabeth?”

Georgiana took a deep breath as she composed her response. “I agree Elizabeth has lost that special something that makes her unique. She laughs; she cries; but my sister’s singularity has disappeared. Having to serve Mrs. Bingley during your eldest daughter’s delivery was a double-edged sword. Elizabeth loves Jane and would never wish her sister ill, but Mrs. Bingley’s success greatened Elizabeth’s failures. In fact, I was thankful Elizabeth was not present for Mr. Bingley’s announcement of another child.”

Mr. Bennet nodded his understanding. “And Elizabeth is currently with child?”

“So says Hannah. Early on, Elizabeth’s maid noted her mistress’s condition, but my sister has refused to acknowledge her gravidity. Fitzwilliam has insisted that we accept her reluctance. He has consulted the doctor, and Doctor Palmer advises us to allow Elizabeth to handle this gestation without outside criticism.” Speaking so frankly on this personal subject was both liberating and embarrassing.

Mr. Bennet sighed deeply. “I’ve always known that Elizabeth would find such failures to be pure tragedies. She prides herself on perfection.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Should I anticipate Lady Catherine’s censure, Miss Darcy?”

“I wish I knew for certain, Mr. Bennet. If so, Fitzwilliam shall never forgive Her Ladyship. My brother would banish our aunt from his home, but the damage could already have been inflicted. Kitty is trying to determine if it was truly by necessity that my aunt sought Pemberley’s refuge. Our unease comes from the fact that Lady Catherine sent word to the Collinses the evening before she ordered her coach to Lambton. Kitty hopes Mrs. Collins might share what she knows of Her Ladyship’s motives.”

“Do you think it possible that Lady Catherine will speak openly of Lizzy’s losses?”

Worry misted Georgiana’s eyes. “If she does, it’ll only confirm Elizabeth’s fears of being found wanting.”



“I object to Mr. Darcy’s presence during my wife’s delivery,” Mr. Joseph declared.

“Matthew, that’s not necessary,” Mary said softly.

Elizabeth ignored the man’s objection. “Why do you not read to Mrs. Joseph?” she suggested calmly.

Joseph rose to his feet. “I’ll not read any book until your husband excuses himself from this room,” he demanded.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Mr. Joseph, I’ll remind you that the room belongs to Mr. Darcy. You’re here as my husband’s guest.”

“Oh, I see how it is!” His voice rose in indignation. “Your rescue is limited in its scope. Then never fear, Mrs. Darcy. Mary and I will be out of your way momentarily.”

He shoved past her, and Darcy was immediately on his feet. “Now see here, Joseph. You will take care of my wife’s safety, and you’ll speak to Mrs. Darcy in a civilized tone.”

“Matthew,” Mary pleaded. “We need Mrs. Darcy’s assistance. I need her. Your child needs her.”

Elizabeth watched the color drain from the man’s face. “I understand,” he said through gritted teeth, “but I’ll not see you subjected to censure.”

“Wouldn’t abandoning this room for a stable be seen as foolish?” his wife reasoned.

“Fine,” Joseph said grudgingly. “Give me the book.” He quickly reseated himself beside the bed.

Elizabeth smiled at her husband, who seated himself on the bed’s other side. “I’ve a better idea. Mr. Joseph, I want you to hold your wife’s hand. Whenever Mary has a pain, I want you to take note of the time. Only when Mrs. Joseph’s pains are close together will the baby make its appearance.”

“And what will Mr. Darcy be doing during this wait?” Joseph asked suspiciously.

Elizabeth picked up the book and handed it to Darcy. She saw his eyebrow rise in amusement when he read the title. “Reading aloud.”

“And why is Mr. Darcy the one to read to us?”

Elizabeth smiled knowingly. “For several reasons: First, Mr. Darcy has secretly wondered about The Heroine since its release last year, and now he shall understand the book’s parody.” She squeezed Darcy’s hand as she passed over the book. “Secondly, I find my husband’s voice quite soothing, and as I plan to find my own rest while I may still do so, Mr. Darcy’s reading shall allow me to take moments to recover my energies. With my sister Mrs. Bingley, it was well into the night before she delivered her children.”

“Thank you for considering your own health, Mrs. Darcy,” her husband said softly.

Elizabeth squeezed his shoulders as she moved to stand behind him. “Mary, enjoy the novel, and relax as much as possible. Trust each of us to do what is necessary.”

“I’m not afraid, Mrs. Darcy. God has sent us your good sense.”



“Another trip into the cold?” Caroline asked as the gentlemen excused themselves from the gathering. “What’s so fascinating about Mr. Darcy’s gardens dripping in ice?”