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E lizabeth sat with her husband when he was about to be administered the first dose of laudanum on the first Monday of April.

Just yesterday after the church service that had been held in Castlemere’s chapel they had told the children Papa was very sick.

Archy had not been able to attend in Lambton, so Uncle Adam had come after the morning service.

As they had expected, Gracie and Winston had not grasped that their father would not recover, just like they did when they had a cold.

Matty, at four, understood the concept of death somewhat.

One of the hunting dogs he had loved had died some months ago which had necessitated an explanation to their older son as to what had occurred.

He had asked if Papa would be going to heaven soon, and why did God want to take him away.

Together, they had explained that his father wanted nothing more than not to be sick, and that they could not know God’s plan.

Explaining Papa would be watching them from heaven had not placated Matty.

He had wailed, almost keening, which had started his sister and brother crying as well, even if they had not understood why Matty was upset.

The previous night, Archy had been in excruciating pain, something he had not let on about until this morning. Knowing he had not said anything to have as much time with her and the children while compos mentis did not reduce Elizabeth’s sorrow at his suffering or his impending loss.

Hertfordshire reached one of his almost skeletal hands for Lizzy’s closest hand before he took the first dose of the thick, bitter, reddish-brown elixir. “I am sorry I am soon to leave you and the children, my love,” he rasped.

“Do not apologise. This is not your choice,” Elizabeth returned firmly as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

“If I were selfish I would ask you to endure the extreme pain so we may have more time with you awake. However, I love you far too much for that and only want your comfort, and for you to not be suffering any longer.” Elizabeth wiped the river of tears away from her eyes with one of Archy’s handkerchiefs—she always had one or two with her—and she bent down so her eyes were level with his.

“Archy, you will always have my love and that of the children’s.

When you are ready, I release you to go.

You have suffered more than enough already. ”

“You are the best thing…” A series of strong pains wracked his body.

“The best thing that ever happened to me. I love you, my Lizzy.” As more pains struck, he nodded to Mr Harrison—the physician who served Pemberley, Castlemere, and some other prominent estates—and the man lifted the small cup to his lips.

As bitter as the drug was, it was not long before Archy began to feel relief and his eyes fluttered closed as he slipped into a laudanum induced sleep.

Elizabeth did not leave his side for some minutes as she continued to hold his hand while the tears fell. Once the tears stopped falling, and she had dried her eyes, she stood and made her way to the nursery.

That morning, knowing what was coming, Elizabeth had written notes to family and close friends and dispatched couriers, to everyone except Mary and Richard.

Elizabeth thought about the request Mary had made before leaving Castlemere after the wedding.

She had asked to be contacted when things reached this point.

Elizabeth was sanguine with her choice not to intrude on her sister and new brother’s honeymoon.

Facing Mary’s displeasure later was preferable, in her opinion, to summoning them home from the Lakes after less than a fortnight of their wedding trip.

Mary’s presence would change nothing, and Elizabeth was determined Mary and Richard would enjoy the full month they planned to be at Lake Vista House.

On entering the nursery, a worried Matty ran to her. Elizabeth led her son to an armchair, and once she was seated, pulled him onto her lap and into the warm circle of her arms.

“Is Papa with God?” Matty asked in sotto voce . He was worried his speaking louder would make it come to pass.

“No, Matty, your father is sleeping so he will not suffer from the pain as he did when he was awake,” Elizabeth explained. “This way Papa can rest and get some sleep which has been hard for him of late.”

“May I see Papa?” Matty requested.

“Of course, my dear boy.” Elizabeth looked up at the two nursemaids who were on duty.

“I will take Lord Matty with me for some time.” She first went and kissed both Gracie and Winston who were happily playing sitting on the rug.

The former with her dolls and the latter with his toy soldiers.

Elizabeth offered Matty a hand, which he took and then walked next to her with his back straight and firm.

The nurse and the Duke’s valet stood when Her Grace entered the chamber with the young Marquess in hand.

“Please keep your seats. Lord Matty wanted to see his father,” Elizabeth explained. She led her son over to the large four poster bed on which her beloved was sleeping. She assisted him to climb up onto the bed.

Matty could hear his father’s breathing, and he could see the slight rise and fall of his chest which assured him Mama had not erred. Papa was not with God yet.

Elizabeth watched as Matty lay down next to Archy.

She had to fight to keep the ever-present tears at bay.

It would not help Matty for her to become a watering pot again.

It almost rent her heart from her chest seeing the way Matty cuddled with Archy and rubbed his arm to comfort him.

Elizabeth knew if he could reach Archy’s back, Matty would have rubbed it just like they had done for him when he needed comforting; the same way they did for his sister and brother when they required it.

“Papa, I do not want you to go be with God. Please stay here with Mama, Gracie, Winston, and me,” Matty begged as some tears slipped down his cheeks onto the coverlet.

It started Elizabeth crying again and when she looked around both the nurse and valet had moist eyes as well.

“Come, Matty, let us allow Papa time to sleep. When he wakes again, I promise you will come see him.” Elizabeth held out her hand to her eldest son who took it and allowed her to help him down from the bed.

She could not say it to Matty, but Elizabeth knew it was an if , not a when , with regards to Archy waking again.

In the early afternoon the Fitzwilliams and Darcys arrived—sans William and Anna.

The former was at River Run, and the latter in Hertfordshire with Cathy and Lydia—they came based on the notes Lizzy had sent.

While Lizzy was busy with the children, they sat with Archy and said their final goodbyes.

During the times their mother was at their father’s side, they amused the children.

There was no missing Matty’s low mood. Matlock and Darcy did whatever they were able to in order to try distracting the boy.

Other than to eat with aunts, uncles, and her children, and to use the necessary, Elizabeth spent the rest of the day seated next to Archy. At some point, she moved to lie down next to him like Matty had done.

Lying next to him, she could feel as well as hear how laboured his breaths were.

Mr Harrison came to check on His Grace about an hour after dinner. He did not bother to ask Her Grace to move from the Duke’s side. It did not take him long to realise the end was near. Minutes or hours, not days.

Elizabeth did not miss the look on the doctor’s countenance.

“His suffering will be over soon, will it not?” she asked evenly.

Selfishly she did not want Archy to go, but as she had told him earlier, she did not want him to suffer.

She looked at the doctor waiting for a reply.

He looked away and down to the floor which told Elizabeth all she needed to know.

Archy would be in heaven with Him and His angels soon.

Armed with the knowledge that the end was close, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her mouth close to his ear. “Go, my darling man, go. It is time for the pain and suffering to end.”

As she said the last, Elizabeth could swear she felt him relax, and saw him almost smile.

His breathing became less laboured for a few minutes.

She was sure he squeezed her hand at the moment his chest stopped moving, and his soul was claimed by God.

For some seconds, she did not move or make a sound, in case he would begin to breathe again. He did not.

Expecting it to occur did not lessen the blow.

Elizabeth began keening as the tears flowed from her eyes like rivers.

The other half of her heart was gone. Her children had lost the best father that ever was.

She was about to rail against God for the unfairness of his taking a just, honourable, and Godly man in that fashion when in her mind’s eye she saw Archy shaking his head at her and heard his words about the mystery and incomprehensibility of God’s plan.

Through all of his illness, Archy had never lost his faith, so she would honour his memory by not losing her own.

She sobbed over his body for well over an hour, and wisely, no one sought to dislodge her.

First the keening subsided, then the heavy crying, and eventually her tears slowed to a trickle.

She knew his worldly remains needed to be moved and prepared, so Elizabeth stood, with the support of Archy’s long serving valet.

The children would be asleep, and she would not wake them to tell them they would never see their father again. The morning would be more than enough time to deliver the devastating news.