It was not to be, however, for the prospect of spending several months among the grandeur and wealth of Pemberley’s halls and grounds proved to be far too much of a temptation for the mistress of Longbourn to pass up, and though her husband had attempted to dissuade her from making the trip, his objections only served to make her all the more determined to go. Even after Mr. Bennet informed his wife that Longbourn’s harvest would prevent his accompanying her on the two to three-day journey, and the horses would most certainly be required in the field, her resolution—and her excessive complaining—eventually won out, and in the end, her husband, now desperate for the peace and quiet her absence would afford him, sent her north to his son-in-law.

The first week of her visit was all it had promised to be. Mrs. Bennet spent the majority of her time flitting from room to room, making suggestions for various changes to the wallpaper, furniture, draperies, and floral arrangements. She even went so far as to take it upon herself to alter the menu for the evening meals. Knowing her husband to be far from pleased with the authority her mother was so brazenly assuming in his home, Elizabeth attempted to curb her behavior, but with little success. Mrs. Bennet was so full of effusions and suggestions, gossip and idle chatter, that she soon wore down her daughter, who felt more fatigued as the day of her confinement approached. That a good portion of Elizabeth’s exhaustion stemmed from her mother’s seemingly boundless supply of verbal energy did not go unnoticed by Pemberley’s vigilant staff.

Deciding it was the only way in which Elizabeth might gain a reprieve from her mother’s enthusiastic company, Mrs. Reynolds frequently insisted her mistress retire abovestairs and rest. Though she was grateful to the housekeeper for her kind solicitation, Elizabeth found she dearly missed the companionship of her sisters. Lydia had since gone off to school in London with Mary and Kitty, and Georgiana had also removed to Town. She was now living with her trusted companion, Mrs. Annesley, at Darcy House, where she would remain until Christmas. Though Darcy was always at Pemberley, every day saw him more heavily engaged as he supervised the harvest and tended to matters of estate business with his steward from dawn until dusk, and very often much later. By the time he and Elizabeth retired each night, Darcy barely managed to crawl into bed before he collapsed beside her, his arms wrapped around her as Elizabeth snuggled against the length of his exhausted body. He would find repose quickly as he caressed the enormous, kicking bulge of his wife’s stomach, his other hand tangled in her mass of curls.

In the final days leading up to the birth, Elizabeth’s discomfort grew to substantial proportions—and not merely all of it physical. Her mother’s keen observations of her daughter’s condition were growing more astute with each passing hour, and made all the worse by Mrs. Bennet loudly extolling that, had she not known better, she would be quite certain Elizabeth’s time was very nearly upon her. What more could Elizabeth do besides offer her an awkward turn of her mouth and steer the conversation to any topic that might prove more successful in diverting her mother’s attention from the obvious?

After experiencing several days of extreme discomfort, Elizabeth felt the first pains of her labor begin early one September morning several hours after the sun had begun its ascent over the horizon. She had been parted from her husband since dawn, as his presence was required to tend to a rather heated dispute that had been escalating between two tenants for days. Wishing to feel closer to Darcy, she chose to remain in their bed in the master’s chambers, where they had passed the entirety of every night in each other’s arms. The pains were nothing more than slightly uncomfortable, and Elizabeth felt a thrill travel through her at the prospect of soon holding her child in her arms. Knowing she would need her strength for the delivery and realizing it would be many hours yet until the babe would be born, she closed her eyes with the intention of resting herself. Sleep did not come easily, however, as her pains slowly advanced—both in intensity and frequency—and, with it, her anxiety at the prospect of giving birth. She knew she should alert someone to her current situation and rang for Sonia.

Sonia arrived to see her mistress breathing heavily as a wave of pain hit her. “Oh, ma’am!” she exclaimed. “I believe your time has come! I shall fetch Mrs. Reynolds at once!”

Elizabeth reached out her hand to prevent her from leaving. The young woman took it and exerted a gentle pressure. “Sonia, I wish to have Mr. Darcy informed that my pains have begun. He is currently seeing to a dispute between Mr. Roberts and Mr. Gordon. Please have someone go to him at once.”

Sonia nodded. “At once, ma’am, but I shall send Mrs. Reynolds to you in the meantime. The master would never forgive me if I were to leave you alone.”

Mrs. Reynolds arrived in very good time and took charge immediately, arranging Elizabeth’s pillows, smoothing the bed linens, and seeing to her every comfort. The housekeeper’s calm demeanor went a long way in soothing some of Elizabeth’s rising panic. “It will help if you walk, Mrs. Darcy,” Mrs. Reynolds advised. “Such activity has been known to hasten delivery.”

Obediently, Elizabeth nodded and allowed the woman to assist her as she stood and slowly began to make her way about the apartment, wincing as her pains escalated. Sonia returned and hurried to support her mistress on her other side. Several hours passed without any news or even so much as a word from Darcy, and Elizabeth became progressively ill at ease as her pains continued to grow.

Though it had not been her intention to draw him from his duties simply to sit idly by her side to attend her, Elizabeth had imagined Darcy would have been eager to join her as soon as he was able or, at least, to send her some small missive if he found himself not yet at liberty to do so. His absence thus far caused her more anxiety than she felt she would have experienced otherwise. She found it difficult to refrain from worrying about his safety. “Mrs. Reynolds,” Elizabeth finally inquired as she panted after a particularly strong contraction, “are you quite certain Mr. Darcy has been informed of my condition?”

The housekeeper squeezed her hand and smoothed back her hair. “I am, ma’am. Several footmen have been sent out to him, but as he is on the far side of the estate and currently embroiled in a very pressing matter of business, I am afraid it will be some time yet before he shall be at liberty to tear himself away.”

Mrs. Reynolds did not reveal to her mistress that she had been told the dispute between the two tenants had since grown quite serious and was rumored to have escalated to such distressing proportions that, within the last half hour, the magistrate had to be sent for, as well. Darcy, per Mrs. Reynolds’s instruction, had been assured Elizabeth was doing well, and therefore, the housekeeper saw no need for him to cast aside his urgent business in order to hurry home for a birth that, while being of monumental import to the entire estate, was not likely to take place for many hours yet, certainly not until well after nightfall.

At noon, Elizabeth was persuaded to partake of a light meal in her room to keep up her strength, and toward teatime, as darkness began to loom over the house, she was much relieved to hear a flurry of activity just outside in the hall. In the next instant, however, Elizabeth’s heart sank as her mother, rather than her husband, entered her room, breathless and extremely vexed. “Lizzy! So it is true, then! Your time has come, I see, and a good deal early, too! Why was I not informed of it immediately? These things can be terribly trying for a young woman, as I am well aware. It is very fortunate for you that I am here to help you through it, child. I shudder to think of you being all alone with no one but the servants to assist you.” Mrs. Bennet suddenly noticed Mrs. Reynolds and Sonia tending to her daughter, and she frowned.

Elizabeth groaned, and though her mother thought it merely the onset of another labor pain, Mrs. Reynolds and Sonia knew enough of their mistress to suspect it stemmed more from Elizabeth’s reaction to her mother’s offensive words and often overbearing presence than anything else. “Mama, I did not wish for you to be disturbed. It is not yet time for the babe to be born. I assure you, I am perfectly fine,” she gasped as another contraction came upon her, and her attention was diverted elsewhere. A pointed look passed between Mrs. Reynolds and Sonia then, and with a comprehensive nod, the younger woman rose to dispatch another footman with a note for the master.

Within a half hour, Elizabeth’s labor progressed rapidly, the midwife was sent for, and Pemberley’s mistress was removed to the birthing room. She was now in much pain. Where on earth is Fitzwilliam? she wondered in panic as her mother, having repeatedly boasted of her own success at having borne her husband five healthy daughters, launched an ill-advised campaign instructing the midwife on how best to do her duty. Surely he should have come to me by now! What could be wrong? I know very well that something must be terribly wrong! Mrs. Bennet, even though Elizabeth knew she meant well, was far from exuding a calming influence over those present—most especially, the mistress of the house. Indeed, it was all Elizabeth could do to restrain herself from ordering her mother from the room.

“Take several deep breaths now, Mrs. Darcy,” the midwife instructed in an authoritative voice. “I believe it is almost time to begin pushing, but not quite yet.”