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T hey had strolled in the gardens and eaten lunch before Elizabeth sat in the drawing room again with her father, and her aunt and uncle.

She didn’t know why she felt so discomposed at the thought of what Mr. Darcy might, or might not, have done to make her father think she wasn’t safe.

On the small table beside her sat the newly-arrived letter from Jane. Elizabeth had glanced at it when she retired briefly before lunch, and knew the information therein might affect the decisions that would need to be made.

Her father looked a little uncomfortable.

“This is going to be hard for me to talk about, Elizabeth, so I hope you will forgive me. As I said before lunch, I blamed the late Darcy utterly. Somehow, I felt he ought to have been informed that your birth might be early. I could not imagine there was no sign in the days leading up to what happened.” He shivered.

“We had no children, and Althea could not have been expected to take note of any of the signs of an impending birth. But her friend, Lady Anne, who already had a son, and had also lost two children, would surely have seen some signs. They could have arranged the early attendance of a physician. It might have saved her.”

There was a long silence. Elizabeth placed her hand on her father’s arm, hoping it might comfort him, and he patted it, rather absent-mindedly, before seeming to decide what to say next.

“I cannot be proud of what happened after that. I have to say I was not inclined to accept their condolences, or their attempts to assist me. It was their negligence which I blamed for the loss of my dear wife. It could not have been anything she did.”

Elizabeth glanced at her aunt, who leaned forward.

“Now you can consider the matter from the distance of time, Your Grace, do you not think that they must have assisted greatly in keeping Elizabeth warm and provided with nurses and everything needed for her survival, as early as she was?”

Father jerked his head up. “Oh, indeed!” he said with some heat.

“If it was guilt they wished to assuage, then they made every attempt to do so.” He slumped back down in his chair.

“I was not inclined to make any attempt to be reasonable, and the fact that I removed Elizabeth from Pemberley before it was really safe to do so widened the breach between us.”

After a moment, Elizabeth tightened her hand on her father’s arm. “I am sorry at the distress this all caused you, and even more so that my birth caused my mother’s loss. But I am grateful that you agree to see me, and allow me to be part of your life.”

His smile was twisted. “How can I blame you? It was those around you who were responsible for keeping you both safe — and they failed to do so!”

After the emotion of the day, Elizabeth walked out in the small park near Gracechurch Street. A maid and two footmen walked behind her for propriety and her security, but she tried not to think about it and whether her life was truly never going to return to what it had been before today.

Father had left for Osborne House, although he promised to return for dinner, and then they would complete their conversation.

Elizabeth was determined to find out why she had been sent to Longbourn to live as a Bennet throughout her childhood. Surely it had changed the course of her life forever. She wondered what it would otherwise have been like.

A few moments later, she knew she could not regret it, for she would not have known Jane. Her sister was the best part of her life, up until now; more important even than her aunt and uncle, here in town.

They had dined, and her father and uncle had not delayed long over the port before they joined her and Aunt Gardiner in the drawing room.

There was a short silence as they sipped their coffee, and Elizabeth thought Father did not know quite how to begin, so she produced the letter.

“I received this from Jane today, Father. I think the news it bears might change our deliberations as to what we do next.” She held out the letter to him. “There is nothing within that I would not wish you to know.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Her father looked at her benevolently, reminding her of her Papa Bennet, and her gaze misted over.

“So the Netherfield party has left entirely, and this Miss Bingley said they have no intention of returning?” He waved the letter toward her. “You know your sister well, how does she really feel?”

Elizabeth smiled and took the sheet, passing it to her aunt. “Thank you for discerning that she has not made her feelings explicit. I can tell she is devastated. Her affections for Mr. Bingley are deeply held.”

He looked at her astutely. “And you feel that you want to return to comfort her?”

She bowed her head. “I know the time is coming to say goodbye to my life there, but I hope it is not quite yet. I think Mr. Bingley felt the same affection, but he’s been influenced by his sisters and Mr. Darcy.” Her ire rose as she thought of it again.

“But you say the party had only arrived before Michaelmas. I doubt such affection can be so deep with so little knowledge of each other — and I would think a young man so inconstant and easily influenced would hardly be the right match for your sister.”

“But I think she really has an affection for him,” Elizabeth burst out, and her father reached over and took her hand.

“Remember, my dear, once you are out in society, your sister may stay with you in town and, with what I know of her beauty, she will have many ardent suitors for her hand.”

Elizabeth looked down. “At this moment, she would likely give them all up for Mr. Bingley’s return.”

“Early love is, of all loves, the hardest to forget,” Aunt Gardiner broke in briskly. “Perhaps Jane will need to spend some time with us in town.”

Elizabeth nodded dispiritedly, then turned to her father. “But as the Netherfield party has left Hertfordshire, then I would be safe to return there for a while, would I not?”

He nodded slowly. “I do think it is time to plan your future a little before then. We have already delayed your come-out beyond what is usual, and people may be talking.”

Her father turned to Gardiner. “And did you know that an investigator was seen in this area yesterday?” He frowned. “Perhaps Elizabeth would be safer at Longbourn while I look into the matter.”

Reaching for her hand, he turned to her. “And plan for your entrance into society, my dear.”