A/N - this is a bit of an overhaul of the long-abandoned Snow & Separation. Editing and updating this has helped me with the plot bunnies in my longer fic, An Accidental Friendship. Thank you for sticking with this story after such a long abandonment. I'm not going to keep you waiting with this one much longer!

-Jelach

Chapter 6

Elizabeth was frantic with worry when a lone footman arrived on horseback enquiring if he was preceded by his master. She was given leave to understand that he had left the shelter of the inn in Leedale on his own and on foot to arrive home sooner. The conditions were bad enough that the footman had not seen him, and so visions of him lying cold and white at the side of the road plagued her. Sobs wreaked through her at the discovery that something had gone awry.

She was inconsolable for a full ten minutes after receiving the news from the footman, with such sobs wreaking her body that she worried she may have turned prematurely into her mother. Georgiana joined her in her sorrow, not speaking, just holding her close and sharing her tears. It was only the shifting in her lap that told of her son's awakening that rendered her able to pull her from herself.

"What has your dear father done with himself, George?" Her tone was pleading.

"Let us hope that there has been a misunderstanding," Georgiana comforted. "Surely he is not so irrational to have gone for a walk in the snow?"

"He is a very stubborn man," Lizzy replied dejectedly.

"But he cares about you a great deal. He would not put himself in jeopardy. I am certain of it."

"I hope with all of my heart that you are right."

"Me too." Georgiana willed it to be true.

~.~

The Bingley carriage arrived without much ceremony, except that Elizabeth and Georgiana roused themselves when they heard the crunching of the fresh snow atop the gravel. Georgiana beat her sister to the door, as Elizabeth waddled behind her with babe in arms. She could tell before she rounded the corner that the Bingleys brought with them news, for Georgiana let loose a loud squeal that was halfway between excitement and terror.

Seeing her husband's usually vital form slumped across his friend's shoulders, Elizabeth assumed the worst and broke into another burst of sobs.

"Fitzwilliam," she called between shuddering breaths. "Fitzwilliam," she pleaded with increasing urgency. He heard a voice he recognised as if it were his own, and opened his heavy eyes to see her beautiful form.

"Elizabeth, I am so glad to be home," he garbled tiredly. She only understood his words through the obvious sentiment. Hearing his darling voice caused the cessation of her tears. She felt the comforting weight of her son, took a deep restoring breath and snapped into action. She rushed forward to relieve her sister from her burden, passing her the much smaller weight of her son before holding her husband around the waist and draping his heavy arm across her shoulders.

Two men rushed forwards to aid them, but she needed the reassurance of his touch and refused their help.

"Thank you for rescuing him, Charles. Please, let us get him inside to the warmth. You may take him to his chambers. Mrs Reynolds, please go there with all due haste and make sure the fire has not gone out. Jane, my dear Jane, I am so glad you are here. Please look after George with our sister. I will return when I am able. But now, my husband needs me."

When they had all but dragged him to the foot of the stairs, a member of staff once again petitioned his Mistress to relinquish her burden. Sensitive of her condition, she conceded and followed them. A small part of her enjoyed her husband's figure from behind, but the larger part was terrified at the thought of what could have happened. She swallowed against the discomfort that arose in her throat.

Her stomach threatened to repeat her lunch when she saw his leaden form collapse into their large bed. It was not the return to his chambers that she had envisaged when he had left. But she was relieved nonetheless to see him there at last.

Mrs Reynolds had overseen a blazing fire that had been re-stoked in the fireplace. She was a flurry of activity, instructing warming pans to be retrieved from the kitchen and extra blankets to be procured from the Mistress' chambers next door. Her efficient management of the situation had Mr Darcy comfortably situated not five minutes after he had entered his house.

Seeing the situation was under control, Mr Bingley pressed Elizabeth's hand, said a few comforting words and then left to find his wife.

Elizabeth struggled as she pulled a chair to his bedside. Their unborn child made such manual tasks quite difficult. However, she soon found herself sitting anxiously by his side, grasping his hand, whispering sweet nothings and hoping against hope for the warmth to diffuse from her to him. He smiled with closed eyes and whispered a single word that held the weight and warmth of a thousand summer suns.

"Home," he breathed.

"Yes," she replied. Her soft voice reached his ears and wrapped him in a a warmth that had nothing to do with his frozen body. "Yes, you are home my love. You must rest, for you have had quite the ordeal."

He did as he was bade, and soon drifted into a warm and comfortable sleep.

~.~

Neither warm nor comfortable were words which Elizabeth would use to describe her situation - for almost as soon as he had fallen peacefully to sleep and she had seen his colour return to him, the adrenaline left her body and she felt the chill in the air. As her body slowly acclimated to the receding stress, she felt a pang of a different sort assert itself about half an hour later.

"Oh-" she exclaimed softly. Her maid heard the sound of distress and hovered immediately towards her.

"It is nothing, Annalise, just- oh…" Mrs Darcy dropped her husband's hand for fear of squeezing it and waking him from his much needed rest.

"Mrs Darcy, ma'am. Forgive my impertinence." The genuine admiration and concern were clear in the poor girl's voice. "Are you quite sure you are alright?"

"It is just- ah- I believe the second young Darcy is ready to make their appearance," she strained. "I do not believe I am- ah- yet ready for the midwife, but best to tell - oh- our guests of my indisposition."

The pains came on faster than the first time, and Elizabeth's heart broke at the thought that her poor Fitzwilliam would miss the birth of his second child due to his fraught afternoon in the storm.

"Could you please fetch my sister for me, Annalise? And ask Mr Bingley to come and attend to my hus…band? Thank you."

She made to rise from the chair and towards her chambers.

"Let me help you onto your feet, ma'am."

"You are a dear, thank you."

Between the two of them, they managed to remove Elizabeth to her chambers, where she was free to move around and make a jot more noise.

Soon after, Jane rushed to her side, and gave her sister a tight hug as soon as she saw her. She squeezed her around the middle and ran a soothing hand across her back. She was fit to launch into a stream of consciousness, but Elizabeth indicated that she desired to speak first. With some deal of urgency, she began with great solemnity.

"Thank you for fetching my dear Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth entreated. "I do not know what we would have done had you not found him."

"Well I could not very well leave anyone in such awful cold," she replied honestly. "As soon as Charles recognised him as Mr Darcy - oh it was so awful…" she trailed off, trying not to think of the alternative, where they had not stopped.

"He is here now, in no small reason because of you and your kindness, dear Ja-a-aah," another pain broke Elizabeth off halfway through her sister's name.

"Do not overexert yourself in your gratitude Lizzy. For if last time was any measure of the event, I am sure there is much exertion in store for you over the next few hours."

Elizabeth chuckled, her musical laughter carrying through the room.