Elizabeth stared down at the bundle in her arms with a strange feeling building in her chest. 'She's terribly small,' she couldn't help thinking, 'Drastically smaller than she should be.' She stroked on soft round cheek, flushed with the exertion of being born, with the knuckle of her first finger. Tiny eyes opened and her breath caught in her throat as blurry brownish-green eyes locked with her own. A little hand escaped the confines of the blanket the newborn was swaddled in and latched onto the finger firmly, and suddenly her heart stuttered.

At that moment, holding the baby close to her chest, nearly two and twenty year old Elizabeth Darcy vowed to never let anything happen to her.

A wail from across the room drew her attention to where her mother and Kitty were positioned by the bed, on which lay her youngest sister Lydia, skin pale as the linen sheets she rested upon. Lizzy's heart ached. Lydia looked over at her and weakly extended an arm, and she moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside her.

"You did well, dear. It is a girl, and she is beautiful." Lydia smiled slightly and brushed a light finger over the infant's dark curls.

"I am so sorry, Lizzy. I should have listened to you more growing up. Maybe then I might have been so lucky as you." She whispered hoarsely. She had matured a great amount since it was discovered she was with child.

Shortly after marrying George Wickham and moving to the north, Lydia turned up on her eldest sister, Jane Bingley's, doorstep horribly distraught. Apparently, Wickham had returned to old habits almost as soon as they arrived in the area that they were to settle in. However, this time he had gotten way over his head. Drowning in debts he had resulted to banditry, robbing important looking carriages as they passed in the night. One night he attempted to rob a gentleman he knew to be very wealthy, but his keen mind had not considered there might be a fight back. The gentleman had been armed and took Wickham, at gunpoint, to the local constable. He was hanged for his crimes.

Lydia had only days before discovered she was pregnant, and after her husband was hanged, not knowing what else to do she gathered her belongings and fled back to her home. Jane had taken pity on her and explained things to their parents. With the shame of Wickham's actions hanging over her and two more daughters yet to marry, they hesitated to allow her home, though she had always been her mother's favourite. Eventually, they agreed after Jane wrote to Lizzy to help persuade their father.

After that, Lydia was a changed woman. She became more reserved and tactful, and less silly, which in turn helped to better her relationships with her family. Things had even improved enough that William and Lizzy had extended an invitation to her when they invited Jane and Charles to Pemberley for a visit.

Elizabeth quickly took her sister's hand and shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. "Lydia, please. Do not say such things. You have more than corrected your silly behaviour and have grown into a fine young woman. I have never been so proud of you."

"Thank you, Lizzy. However, if I did not say it now, I never would. We all know that I shall not recover from this. The bleeding has not ceased and I can feel my end is near."

Soft sobs sounded around the room and her youngest sister squeezed the hand that still clasped hers. "Promise me you will take good care of her. Look after her and see that she has a good life and grows up well. I regret so many things.. I feel terrible for putting this off on you and your husband, especially with a child of your own on the way," She caressed her older sister's pronounced stomach with a pale hand before taking Lizzy's again, "but please. Say you will.."

"I promise! Yes, of course, I promise. She will want for nothing. We will take care of her always." Tears began to leak from Elizabeth's eyes and trickle down her cheeks. "What shall you name her?"

Lydia stared down at her daughter, ensconced in her second eldest sister's arms, and felt peaceful, knowing that was where she should be. She considered for a moment before her lips curled into a ghost of a smile. "Emmeline. Emmeline Ophelia. I have always thought those were pretty."

"That's a lovely name, sister." Jane offered softly with a watery smile.

"And Lizzy, promise me one more thing?"

By now the blood loss was starting to take its toll. Elizabeth knew it wouldn't be long, a minute or two. Not trusting her voice she simply nodded as she tried to swallow passed the large lump in her throat.

" Don't tell her. Unless it is absolutely required and unable to be avoided, do not ever tell her of the circumstances surrounding her birth. The knowledge would only do harm to her. From this moment forth, you are her mother. Please, big sister, do right by her."

"I swear it to you," Lizzy whispered.

"That goes for all of you." Lydia turned her gaze on their mother and other sisters. "Swear to me, each of you, as I lay dying, that you will never mention a word to her, or anyone else. You will never speak of it again. Lizzy and Fitzwilliam are her parents. Each of you, look me in the eyes and swear to it." Each vowed in turn, albeit reluctantly on Mrs Bennet's part, for it was no secret Lizzy was still her least favoured child.

Lydia's eyes grew heavier and with the last bit of her strength she sat up slightly and pressed a kiss to Emmeline's temple. Then, strength spent, she laid back against the pillows and closed her eyes. In a moment she was gone…