Elizabeth squeezed her hand and nodded but was breathing too heavily to respond with words. Her countenance twisted into a rictus of agony, and Jane could only observe her sister in wretched suspense until the spasm passed.
“I forgave you as soon as I learnt his heart was untrue,” Elizabeth gasped at length, collapsing back into her pillows.
“Thank you, dear Lizzy. I do not deserve you.”
But she was already in pain again, her crying out now more of a growl than a scream. And though it was muttered through clenched teeth, Jane could hear her keening for her husband.
“Is it supposed to hurt this much?” she enquired, turning to Mrs Reynolds in alarm.
“I have no children, ma’am. I would not know.”
She looked at Mrs Sinclair.
“I birthed mine over half a century ago. You cannot possibly expect me to remember.”
“Am I dying?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes wide with fear.
“We are all dying,” Mrs Sinclair replied. “Only some of us are doing it more quietly than others.”
“Miss Baker, run and see if anybody has been found to attend Mrs Darcy,” Mrs Reynolds shouted at the maid.
“Jane, I’m frightened!” Elizabeth cried.
As was Jane, more frightened than she had ever been, but it was long past time she acted like the sister Elizabeth deserved, and she was determined not to fail her. “Do not be. If Mama can do this five times, then I am quite sure Mrs Darcy of Pemberley can.” She lifted a lock of drenched hair from Elizabeth’s face and stroked her cheek. “And you are my brave Lizzy. You can do anything.”
Elizabeth let out a sob. “Thereyou are, Jane! How I have missed you!”
Georgiana was delighted to be returning to the serenity of Pemberley. Her stay at Hornscroft had been wonderful, but somany girls together in one place were exhausting. She knew not how Elizabeth had tolerated it, growing up at Longbourn.
Still, she had not expected the house to be quite as quiet as she found it. She had rather hoped Elizabeth would come to meet her, for there was a good view of the driveway from the saloon in which they usually sat, though it was just as likely she was in a different part of the house and had not seen her approach. That not even Maltravers was there to direct the unloading of luggage, however, was more than passing strange.
Hughes, her lady’s maid and travelling companion, left to make enquiries below stairs. Of a mind to find her sister, Georgiana thought to look first in the orangery, but before she got farther than the foot of the grand staircase, Hughes came dashing back into the hall.
“Mrs Darcy has been hurt, Miss Darcy! She fell down the front steps!”
“Oh my! Is she badly hurt? Where is she?”
The sound of somebody coming down the stairs made them both look up. Elizabeth’s maid, Baker, was galloping down at a pace. Hughes opened her mouth to speak, but Baker pre-empted her.
“Not now, Sally, I must see if they’ve found a physician yet. One is needed for the mistress this instant.”
“Is Mrs Darcy in a bad way, then?”
Hughes nodded. “It is horrible! They think she is dying!”
Georgiana gasped, her hands over her mouth in horror. Elizabeth could not die!
“An apothecary has been found,” Hughes informed her. “Mr Maltravers and Mr Barnaby are interviewing him as we speak to make sure he knows his business. But let me fetch him. You had better go back up to Mrs Darcy.”
“Aye, very well, but hurry!” She disappeared back upstairs.
Hughes looked to Georgiana. “May I?—”
“Yes, go, go! Make haste!” She herself set off after Baker, her mind blank but for the fear of anything happening to Elizabeth or her baby. Again, she was arrested, however, this time by the most unexpected arrival of Mr Bingley.
“Miss Darcy! I hope y?—”
“I beg your pardon,” she interrupted, “but I must leave you. Lizzy has been injured. I must go to her.”
