Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, reading a letter from Jane, while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village when she was startled by a ring at the door. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, but when the door opened, and to her very great surprise Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, entered the room.

He seemed astonished too on finding her alone and apologized for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies to be within.

They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were made, he glanced at her letter saying, "I am afraid I have interrupted you."

"I was reading a letter from my sister Jane."

"I hope the Bingleys are well?"

"Yes, quite well. They continue to enjoy Bath."

"I am glad to hear it. I did not much care for Bath myself, but Bingley is of a disposition to be happy wherever he goes."

"And Jane is a disposition to be happy with any place where she is with Bingley. Her joy in being with him must add luster to any place."

He smiled, "I believe you have made your point Miss Bennet. How long will this be a topic of contention between us, do you think?"

He had not missed her pointed remarks. "Until at last you see reason."

"By which you mean until I see things as you wish."

She could not help smiling, "They are one and the same."

"However our opinions might have differed, before the marriage took place, now that it has I can only wish for my friend's happiness as you wish for her sister's. We are no longer at odds."

"No longer at odds! You have only accepted what you cannot change."

"And as I cannot change the past, what difference can it make? It is not a circumstance likely to be repeated."

"Even so, I cannot think of your wishing to cause my sister pain with cordial feelings."

"I wished no such thing. I desired the best for my friend, your sister's manners were open, cheerful, and engaging but I witnessed no symptom of peculiar regard."

"Then I must think your observations leave something to be desired."

"Your superior knowledge of your sister makes that probable. But I shall not scruple to assert that the serenity of your sister's countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart was not likely to be easily touched. That I was desirous of believing her indifferent is certain - but I will venture to say that my investigations and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears."

"That is an unusual talent to be sure. But, are you judging for yourself what influences you? If so you must wish to believe yourself impartial and can therefore never be sure if you are."

"A fair point. I am lucky to have met with one of the few people capable of correcting me when I go wrong."

Elizabeth almost asked him who it was before realizing he meant her, and made no reply. She was confused by his tone, which made it sound as if he meant it as a compliment, and there was no point in continuing the debate, she had made her point and, it suddenly occurred to her, that Jane would not wish to be discussed in this manner."

After a brief pause, he said, "If we can not make peace on this topic may we at least call a truce?"

"Very well. I agree not to quarrel about the past."

After this, they were in danger of falling into silence and Elizabeth was determined to leave it to him to find a topic of conversation. He took the hint and said, "This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford."

"I believe she did - and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object."

"Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife."

"Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding - though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light it is certainly a very good match for her."

A slight rise of his eyebrow seemed to indicate he was thinking that they were not so different but she had not tried to dissuade her friend and had far more reason for her concern. She waited to see if he would reopen the debate but he picked up a newspaper and asked her how she was enjoying Kent. A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side calm and concise - and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte and her sister, just returned from their walk. The tête-à-tête surprised them. Mr. Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, went away.

From that day forward, both Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam called at the parsonage every day, sometimes together, sometimes separately, sometimes accompanied by their aunt. Colonel Fitzwilliam clearly came for the pleasure of their company (and Elizabeth did not think she was deluding herself in believing he enjoyed her company in particular) but why Mr. Darcy came was a matter of some conjecture. He frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice - a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself.

Charlotte had once or twice suggested he was partial to Elizabeth, but Elizabeth could only laugh at the idea, especially as the only evidence Charlotte could offer in support of it was his cousin's sometimes laughing at his stupidity. For her own part, she could only imagine that he had nothing better to do and the parsonage gave him a destination for his walk. That he was fond of walking she knew from having met him unexpectedly in her ramble within the Park. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought, and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him at first that it was a favorite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of listening much. When they did speak, it was mostly of Georgiana. Elizabeth was always eager to hear news of her and it seemed to relieve Mr. Darcy's feelings to talk of her.

"I do not want her to worry." He said on one of these occasions, "and therefore must guard against worry myself. It is the one disadvantage of being bonded. She looks forward to the birth and therefore I must focus on those feelings I am receiving from her."

There was such a softness in his tone and expression when he said it, that Elizabeth thought it a shame such tender feelings were reserved only for his bonded. If he could allow half so much tenderness toward his fellow human beings he might be almost agreeable.

"I believe she is very close." He said on another occasion, "I know that, once her seclusion is over, Georgiana hopes you will call on her at your earliest convenience if you are still in the neighborhood."

"It had better be at her earliest convenience. How soon after the blessed event will she be ready to receive visitors?"

"I believe within a few hours. Once the fledgling bonds there will be no further danger."

For a moment she wondered at his meaning, then realized he was speaking of the danger of the fledgling bonding with the wrong person and not of danger to Georgiana. Of course, she knew she could not be near Georgiana until the fledgling had bonded. Why must he keep reminding her? Just when they had been having a nearly pleasant conversation it was like a knife twisting in her heart. Why had she come so close to letting her guard down?

Not noticing her reaction he had continued speaking. She had missed some of what he had said and he continued with, "..and then, it will all be decided, for better or worse, I will honor my agreement. No matter how much I might wish things to be different."

Elizabeth did not care enough about what he had been saying to ask and the two of them finished their walk in silence; each lost in thought.

(o)

The following morning, instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy, she saw, that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. With a smile, she said, "I did not know before that you ever walked this way."

"I have been making the tour of the park," he replied, "as I generally do every year. Are you going much further?"

"No." She said, "I would have turned back in a moment."

As she turned to walk with him he said, "I thought it might revive me to walk today. I have been up half the night with Georgiana."

"Have you? I did not think anyone was allowed near her during her laying in."

"Oh, the three of us who are to be present at the birth all spend some time with her. We usually all visit together, but I wanted Darcy to get some rest. He has been intolerable lately."

"I understood that only Miss DeBourgh was to be present."

"My aunt gave you that impression, did she? That is how she wanted it but Darcy would never take such a risk. No, it is to be Miss DeBourgh; Samuel More, Darcy's groom; and me."

"His groom?"

"Yes. I believe he considers it his duty[i]. His father was a great advocate for that sort of thing and Darcy holds the same ideals. If there is one thing Darcy will always do it is his duty."

With a significant look at Elizabeth, he added, "No matter what it might cost him."

Elizabeth was too lost in thought to notice the Colonel's change of expression. How strange that Mr. Darcy would allow his groom to attend the birth. How very different than his behavior toward Mr. Wickham. A remark from Colonel Fitzwilliam recalled Elizabeth to herself and she put her thoughts aside to consider when she was alone.

Elizabeth was pondering what the Colonel had told her, as she prepared for bed that evening, when she heard a distant cry of pain. Georgiana must be going into labor. Elizabeth jumped up, as if to respond, before catching herself and sitting back down to continue braiding her hair. It had nothing to do with her.

She finished her ablutions and got into bed, trying not to think about the cries. She would not be allowed to help. She would not be allowed near Georgiana. The best she could hope for was that the labor would be finished soon and she could visit her friend. Perhaps she might even get to meet the fledgling. She put her pillow over her head wondering if it would be a male or a female, and whether it would most resemble Daskalos or Georgiana. After a long time, she fell into a fitful sleep.

(0)

Elizabeth sat bolt upright. Something was wrong. Georgiana's cries had changed. The pain was worse than it should be.

Elizabeth was pulling her pelisse over her nightgown and thrusting her bare feet into her half boots before realizing she had gotten out of bed; running through the dark, following the sound of Georgiana's cries, without recalling leaving the house; picking herself up and stumbling forward without any awareness of having tripped and fallen; she was entering the barn before thinking she would not be wanted and the sight before her drove everything else out of her mind. Miss deBourgh was slumped against a wall, her eyes wide and her face white. Tears ran down Mr. Darcy's face as he and Colonel Fitzwilliam struggled to hold Georgiana still.

Samuel Moore was kneeling between Georgiana's hind legs, his hands were covered in blood. "My hands are too large. We need someone else or I will have to cut her."

Georgiana and Darcy both let out an ear-shattering scream as Elizabeth ran to Samuel and held up her hands. As soon as she could be heard she said, "Tell me what to do."

"The baby needs to be turned but the cord is wrapped around the neck. It will take two hands to get it off. You will need to feel for it and then slip it over the head, but be careful not to pull it tighter."

Elizabeth's stomach clenched. "I have to do this," she told herself, "so I will."

"Do not rush." Samuel instructed as she slid her fingers inside, "But do not hesitate."

She nodded.

"That's right Miss, slow and steady…"

"I feel the head."

"Now run your and down to the neck unit you feel the cord."

"Yes, I feel it."

"Now you will need both hands…"

He continued to instruct her until at last, she managed to slip the cord over the head.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "It is done."

"Now the baby needs to be turned."

"Me?"

"You've done the hardest part. It would be better for her if you continue. We could hurt her more switching places and your hands are smaller."

"Of course." She took a deep breath and continued. With Samuel's guidance and encouragement, she managed to get the baby turned. No sooner had she withdrawn her hands than the fledgling came sliding out into Elizabeth's arms.

"Oh!"

"Euphrosyne"[ii]

The name came to Elizabeth as if she were hearing it inside her head as if it were coming from her own heart. She was filled with warmth, tenderness, and affection.

"Euphrosyne! Euphrosyne! Euphrosyne!"

It was as if she had a kitten running around in her mind as if an eagle were soring in her heart. Oh, No! She must be bonding. She was not meant to be here!"

She tried to thrust the fledgling toward Samuel, but as soon as she held her out, Euphrosyne cried out and Elizabeth felt a pain as if her heart was being torn away. She quickly pulled her back against her chest and snuggled her. "Shh, shh, I am sorry, I am sorry, shh, shh, shh."

Suddenly Elizabeth realized how quiet it was and looked up to see everyone staring at her.

"In retrospect," said Mr. Darcy, "I ought to have expected that." He fainted.

i He is likely referring to the Crown encouraging wealthy landowners to have someone of a lower class present at the birth with the idea that giving people hope would help to avoid a revolution like the one in France. (For more on this see the footnote in chapter 5.

ii Greek Goddess of joy, mirth, and good cheer.

As always, thank you for reading and for sticking with me, and thank you to those who have given encouraging reviews. I hope those of you who guessed Elizabeth would bond take great satisfaction in being correct.