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The arrival of Mrs. Collins’ express advising the Darcys of the carriage accident prompted a flurry of activity at Derwent House.

Notes were dispatched immediately to both the Fitzwilliams and the Gardiners, while the staff began repacking the luggage for the master and mistress to visit Kent rather than departing for Derbyshire the next day.

After Elizabeth informed her new maid of what they might expect at Rosings Park, Tilly sadly put aside some of her mistresses’ lovely autumn-hued gowns for those of more sober colors. Meanwhile, a footman was sent out to quietly purchase several bolts of black crepe in case the worst came to pass.

The Earl of Matlock’s reply arrived at Derwent House first, carried by a messenger in the unlikely form of Brigadier General Richard Fitzwilliam.

Finding both Darcys in the library, he handed his father’s response to his cousin while simultaneously firing off questions.

“Your note mentioned only Aunt Catherine and Mr. Collins. Was anyone else in the carriage?”

Seeing that her husband was preoccupied by his uncle’s note, Elizabeth answered, “Not as far as we know. Apparently they were going to visit a tenant and the carriage slid off the road. The driver was killed and both Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins were injured.”

Richard continued to demand information and finally Lizzy simply handed him Charlotte’s letter. “This is all we know. However, Mrs. Collins would not have sent an express unless the situation was very dire indeed.”

As his cousin read, Darcy finished the Earl’s message and looked up with a vexed expression.

“Uncle Henry says that he is too busy to leave London right now for what may be an idle report. He directs us to go into Kent, assess the situation and report back. Then he will decide if it is worth his time to attend his sister.”

When Lizzy raised an eyebrow at his tone, he thrust the Earl’s letter at her. “See for yourself.”

Richard had moved to stand by the window; though his eyes remained focused on the page in his hand, he responded to Darcy’s unspoken question.

“The vote that Papa has been working for comes up tomorrow; I fear his mind is focused on it to the exclusion of all else. Mama and Lucy might have come, but they left for Bath this morning, before we received your message.”

“But this is his sister!” exclaimed Darcy with more than a hint of outrage.

Elizabeth touched her husband’s arm. “Lord Henry does not know Charlotte as I do, Will. And he makes a good point—why have we not heard from someone at Rosings Park?”

Darcy’s temper cooled a little, although he was still quite certain that if he had received even a hint that his own sister had been in such an accident, he would have traveled to her side immediately. He could only shake his head in answer to Elizabeth’s question.

“If Aunt Catherine is truly incapacitated,” commented the Brigadier General, “then I doubt anyone at Rosings knows what to do with themselves. She has ruled the roost for so long and with such a heavy hand that there is no one left with courage enough to take the initiative, even when it is desperately needed.”

When his cousin looked at him oddly, Richard shrugged.

“It is not an uncommon scenario in the military, and often ends in disaster.” Finally handing Mrs. Collins’ letter back to Elizabeth, he continued, “When shall you leave for Kent? I have to arrange some things with my commander, but it should take a few hours at most.”

After some argument, it was agreed that the party would depart from Derwent House at first light.

While the gentlemen discussed the logistics of travel, the butler arrived with more letters.

At a glance, Elizabeth recognized both her aunt and uncle’s writing.

Passing the latter to her husband, she opened Mrs. Gardiner’s envelope, only to have a second note fall out.

It was addressed to Miss de Bourgh and Lizzy immediately recognized the agitation in her aunt’s handwriting.

Gracechurch Street, London

My dearest Lizzy,

My first instinct is to fly with you to Kent and do whatever I can to comfort and assist my Cousin Anne in any way possible.

However, Edward and I have discussed the matter and agreed that Lady Catherine might not take it well, should a long lost relative of Sir Lewis suddenly appear by her sickbed like a vulture.

I have enclosed a note for Anne, but as you will be there in person, Lizzy, please assure her that our prayers are with her and her mother and that she has but to write and we shall come immediately.

Your parents and sisters departed around noon, but I have forwarded your note to Hertfordshire and it should arrive not long after they do.

However, your father was determined to return to Longbourn directly, so I do not know how he will respond; to be frank, I would be surprised if he travels into Kent, even if his heir is at death’s door.

Mary mentioned that he seemed rather melancholy after your wedding, particularly when he returned from taking Lydia to school.

Mr. Gardiner asked him about it but my Brother Bennet would only say that spending hours alone in a carriage with Lydia had made him see just how poorly educated and misinformed about the world his youngest daughter had become.

I fear it was quite as eye-opening an experience as that which resulted in her accompanying you to London several months ago.

But that is neither here nor there. I am sure that you must be very busy preparing to depart, and I am very sorry that you and Mr. Darcy shall have to delay your return to Derbyshire.

I pray that you shall arrive in Kent to find everything returned to normal; please write to me with any news.

Though I have not known Anne long, I have come to care for her very dearly.

If there is anything at all that Edward and I can do to help, please, please do not hesitate to ask.

Your loving aunt,

Madeline

Richard read both letters over Darcy’s shoulder and, when he reached the end, he turned to Elizabeth with a serious look.

“Your aunt and uncle are good people, and perceptive as well.” Lizzy nodded her agreement, pleased that someone recognized the worth of her relatives rather than dismissing them because their living was derived from trade.

Not much later, Richard departed for his regiment’s headquarters and the Darcys decided to retire, having gotten very little sleep the night before on account of the ball; though neither said it aloud, they both feared that the days ahead might afford them even less rest.

It seemed mere minutes after her head touched the pillow that Elizabeth was required to rise again.

She dressed warmly, for the weather was grey and cold, and she knew that they would want to stop only as necessary to change horses.

In the end, however, she had her husband to keep her warm, for Brigadier General Fitzwilliam was determined to ride alongside the carriage, thus allowing husband and wife to snuggle more closely than would have been proper with someone else present.

They arrived at Hunsford just as the sun was reaching its apex.

The parsonage appeared a much more forlorn place than Elizabeth remembered from the spring, and she stood observing the house for a moment after Mr. Darcy handed her down.

Although its brick was just as red, the roses and flowerbeds had all died away and the leaves fallen from the trees with the last frost.

A curtain twitched and then, a moment later, Mrs. Collins burst from the house and threw herself into her friend’s arms. “Oh Lizzy, I’m so glad you’ve come!”

Elizabeth held her and murmured comforting words, but it was some minutes before Charlotte was able to tell them that her husband had passed away during the night.

The Darcys exchanged shocked glances; it was one thing to fear that the worst might come to pass, but quite another to arrive and find it had already occurred.

Eventually, the sound of a baby’s cry recalled his mother to the needs of the living.

Mrs. Collins stepped back to greet Mr. Darcy properly and accept his handkerchief with as much dignity as she could manage.

When the second gentleman stepped forward, however, the new widow positively started.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam! I did not expect to see you here, sir.”

However surprised she was, Charlotte was not unwilling to have her hand shaken and the gentleman bowed over it with a serious look. “My sincere sympathies, madam, upon your loss. We would have come yesterday, but it was too late to depart by the time your news reached us.”

Darcy gave his cousin an odd look, for indeed, on the previous evening Richard had argued that they should leave London immediately and ride through the night.

The threat of highwaymen he had disregarded (despite the fact that the extensive smuggling known to occur along the Kentish coast made thievery more of a probability than a possibility).

The cavalryman had finally capitulated at Darcy’s argument that Elizabeth must come (given that Mrs. Collins was her friend and the letter requested her help) and that he would not expose his wife to such a hard and potentially dangerous ride.

Before Darcy could think of what to say, however, Mrs. Collins remembered her manners and led them all inside to the parlor, pausing only to ask a maid to bring refreshments.

Elizabeth took the seat beside her and finally had a chance to study her friend.

“Dear Charlotte—you look exhausted. Tell us everything and most particularly, tell us how we may help.”