11th April 1816
The day continues…
After a long and tiring journey, Mr Bennet and Jane arrived at the parsonage later that afternoon. The servants informed them that Mr and Mrs Collins were at the manor house. The great lady had taken the news of her nephew’s abduction far worse than expected, and Charlotte was helping with her care.
As soon as Richard was informed of their arrival, he did not waste any time and made haste to meet Elizabeth’s father and try to appease the old man. Once he entered the room, Mr Bennet, who was standing by the window beside Jane, turned to him with a painful expression.
There was no one to perform the introductions, so Richard stepped forward. “Mr Bennet, my name is Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. I am Mr Darcy’s cousin. I came as soon as I heard you had arrived.”
Mr Bennet approached him, stretching out his hand. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am just sorry that our acquaintance is taking place under such sad circumstances.”
Jane, who was dabbing her red eyes with her handkerchief, turned from the window and forced a weak smile. Richard was immediately struck by her uncommon beauty. The sad contrast between her deep green eyes and the red circles around them did not diminish her allurement in the slightest.
Mr Bennet did not miss the colonel’s small lapse. “Colonel, please allow me to introduce my eldest daughter, Miss Jane Bennet.”
“Miss Bennet…” Richard hesitated, lost in the beauty of her eyes, “it is a… pleasure to meet you. Unfortunately, as your father mentioned, in such sad circumstances.” He cleared his throat and turned again to Mr Bennet, blinking a couple of times.
Had Mr Bennet not been so distressed by their current circumstances, he would be amused. Jane often had that effect on some men.
“I am at your service, Mr Bennet,” Richard finally said. “If you have anything you would like to ask, please do so. I asked Mrs Collins to write to you, but I am not aware of how much was said.”
“Would you mind sitting down, Colonel? Indeed, I have some questions, as she did not say much. If you could tell me more, I would be most obliged. But, please, do not let me keep you from your obligations. I am aware that, so far, you have taken it upon yourself to investigate what has happened.”
“There is not much I can do for now, so I think it is better if I tell you all the facts from the beginning.”
Within a few minutes, the whole story was told.
“We have the local constable conducting the investigation, but my father has also hired a private detective from the Bow Street Runners to help us. He arrived about an hour before you. They are currently making enquiries in the village, but I do not think I will have any further information before night-time.”
“May I enquire… I mean, one of Charlotte’s maids said you were not sure whose blood was on the handkerchiefs you found.” Mr Bennet stopped and cleared his throat. “I am sorry, Colonel, but Lizzy is very close to me and Jane, and I confess I am at a loss as to what to do or think. I never felt so desperate in my life… my poor child.” He stood up and walked to the window, leaning his head forward.
Another sniff came from Jane. Richard turned to her and saw her silently dabbing her eyes again.
“Miss Bennet,” Richard said gently. “I am very sorry for not being able to give you both better news. My aunt and I, we are devastated by this. All we can do for now is wait for news and support each other while I try to assist the investigators. I cannot imagine how my parents will break the news to Georgiana, Darcy’s younger sister.”
Richard felt tired. The pang in his chest at the thought that Darcy could be dead by now was much worse than anything he had experienced during the months spent on the battlefields of Spain. He looked down to his entwined fingers. “Darcy is not just my cousin, Mr Bennet, he is my best friend. His generous heart and care make him one of the best men I know. He did not deserve this.”
This last statement took both Bennets by surprise. Obviously, the good colonel would praise his missing cousin, but something in his voice caused Mr Bennet to wonder how such a generous man could disgrace a boyhood acquaintance. “It is good to hear Mr Darcy is appreciated by his family. That he can be seen as a good man.”
Richard did not miss the strange hint in Mr Bennet’s remark and remembered his disturbing interaction with Elizabeth the day before. “Mr Bennet, I am sorry, but do you have any complaint against my cousin? I hope he has not offended you or your family in any way.” He could not abide someone thinking ill of his cousin in a moment like that. It was now a matter of honour to clarify whatever had happened on Darcy’s behalf.
“I am very sorry, Colonel, I spoke out of turn,” Mr Bennet replied with regret. “But as I have already incited your concern, I will just say that Mr Darcy did not make a good impression by the end of his short stay in Hertfordshire. He was never impolite — well, maybe once or twice — but, in general, his manners did not impress our local villagers. But again, I am sorry to bring this up; it was unnecessary, and I apologise.”
“Mr Bennet, I do not have much more to do until the investigators come back to report any news. So, if you do not mind, we could take this opportunity to elucidate any misunderstandings about my cousin’s behaviour. I believe I owe him this much, as he is not here to defend himself.”
Mr Bennet cursed himself for raising such an insensitive subject. On the other hand, Colonel Fitzwilliam was right, for now the only thing they could do was wait.
Resigned, Mr Bennet related to the colonel about Mr Darcy’s general behaviour, pointing out his and his friend’s discontentment with the neighbourhood, finishing with his poor behaviour towards an old friend without mentioning Wickham’s name.
As Mr Bennet continued with his story, Richard’s eyes widened. Something did not fit. When Mr Bennet finished, Richard was silent for a moment.
“When did Darcy first arrive in Hertfordshire?”
Jane answered the question. “It was the beginning of October, when we were having our local assembly. I was dancing with Mr Bingley and when the dance ended, he approached Mr Darcy and suggested he should dance with Lizzy. As you heard, he was rude to her. Mr Darcy did not dance or talk to anybody else, apart from Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst.”
Miss Bennet’s story not only gave Richard a full understanding of his cousin’s behaviour; it also explained why the Bennet family had good reasons to dislike him. Richard knew Bingley was no more than a fickle man, but what happened to Darcy?
“Our interaction was somehow… disappointing. There were other inconvenient things to consider,” Darcy had said.
Richard turned and observed Miss Bennet’s dejected countenance. Perhaps it was the sad tale about his cousin’s lack of manners, or perhaps the disgust against Bingley’s attitude before leaving the area, or even the thought of what a fool Bingley had been to leave someone like Miss Bennet behind. It did not matter. Her sniffs and tears stirred something inside him that he had not felt for quite some time. A strong urge to take her hand and offer her some comfort surprised him, and he coughed to alleviate the sensation.
“I am sorry for their lack of manners and consideration,” Richard said at last. “Indeed, this is not what one would expect from new friends. But Mr Bennet, you also mentioned that my cousin had mistreated an old friend. Who is this person?”
Father and daughter exchanged quick glances, but they had no other option now than to clarify everything to the colonel.
“Well,” Mr Bennet began uncomfortably. “During the time Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley were in Hertfordshire, the militia came to camp there, and we had the opportunity to make a new acquaintance with someone that I believe is also known to you, as he hails from the northern area of Derbyshire. A Mr Wickham? He became a regular visitor in our house, and on one occasion he told Elizabeth how… well, how your cousin had denied him something Mr Darcy’s father have left him on his testament. This was quite shocking for everyone—”
“Mr Bennet, I am sorry for interrupting you. But before you go any further, I need to defend my cousin and unmask Wickham’s lies.” Richard’s tone was grave.
Asking for their discretion, Richard disclosed of all of the facts as they really occurred, alarming not just Mr Bennet, but especially Jane, as she knew her sister’s dislike for Mr Darcy was partially based on Mr Wickham’s accounts.
“Now that you mention it, Colonel,” Mr Bennet said thoughtfully, “I can tell you that I found Mr Wickham’s behaviour quite extraordinary. He waited until Mr Darcy had gone from the neighbourhood to spread his story. Now it all makes sense,” he murmured, lost in his thoughts. “I heard reports that some of the shop owners were quite angry with Mr Wickham for not paying them in time. Apparently, Mr Wickham left town, and the militia, without honouring his debts. Of course, I did not give it too much attention, but now it all makes sense. I wonder…”
Richard looked back to Jane, and she shrugged without saying anything.
“Mr Bennet, is there something else?”
“Oh, yes, sorry. Yes, yes, quite extraordinary indeed,” Mr Bennet continued. “Colonel, now I can see that some of the reports from my fellow companions in the village also make sense. They told me, not long ago, that Mr Wickham had left the militia, fleeing from some of his own comrades after a card game. Apparently, accordingly to Lieutenant Denny, one of the men had sworn to kill Wickham, after punching him in the face, if he had not paid the money by the end of the month. And that was… February. We have not seen Mr Wickham since then. I must admit, I had forgotten all about it.”
Richard frowned. “You said he had his life threatened by one of his fellows before fleeing from Meryton? That is very interesting indeed.”
After a few minutes of silence, Richard and Mr Bennet looked at each other, and frowned at the same time.
“Colonel,” Jane called, bringing her hand to her chest. “Do you think it could be possible that Mr Wickham is in some way… involved in this kidnap?”
Mr Bennet and Richard exchanged glances again, nodding. They had already considered that possibility.
“Well,” Jane said, “at least we know he would not hurt Elizabeth; they were friends for some time. He would not, would he?”
Richard scowled, averting his eyes from her. “I am sorry, Miss Bennet, but I would not count on it. Wickham is a not a murderer, but I know he would be capable of anything else, especially considering the company he can arrange. If he believes his life is in danger, he would not spare any sordid method to obtain what he needs. After he left Lampton, we started hearing horrible stories about his gambling habit, and some ladies… mistreatments. I am very sorry.”
The despair that his words brought, not just to Jane but also to her father, squeezed his heart, but he could not feed them with empty hopes.
Yet, not everything was hopeless; a thought crossed his mind. “Miss Bennet, Mr Bennet,” Richard said, standing up and looking directly at Jane. “Please have courage. If Wickham is somehow involved in this, perhaps it could make things easier for us. I believe I have a way to locate him. I will do everything in my power to find them. You have my word. For now, it is time for me to leave. I will write to my father straight away and ask him to notify the London Magistrates’ Court. After all, being the son of an earl must be useful for something.”
“Oh, is your father an earl, Colonel?” Mr Bennet asked surprised.
“Yes, Mr Bennet. My father is the Earl of Matlock. I am confident that after being informed of all the details, he will use all his connections to help us. He has important friends in the upper hierarchy of the Magistrates’ Court, Parliament and the army. I bid you a good afternoon and please, do not hesitate to contact me if you have any concerns. Goodbye.”
~ ? ~
Elizabeth slept in the chair. It had not been her intention, but she was more tired than she imagined. After hours valiantly fighting the growing fever Darcy developed, she was not thinking anymore; just carrying wetted towels from one side to the other as in a trance, until she had finally collapsed.
In that moment, the door opened again. Dr Hayford entered the room and was taken aback by Elizabeth’s appearance. She was still wearing the same dirty clothes of earlier; her hair was down and her face pale, and dark circles surrounded her eyes.
“Good God, Mrs Smith,” Dr Hayford said in alarm. “What do you think you are doing? If you faint, who is going to look after your husband? I demand you stop everything immediately and look after yourself.”
If she was not so tired, she would be amused by the doctor’s concern for her appearance, when her entire condition was so much worse.
Brown, as it seemed, had again anticipated the situation, entering the room with a trunk in his hands. “I am so sorry.” His voice could have deceived even her, had she not witnessed with her own eyes what that wicked man was capable of. “I forgot to bring your trunk upstairs before, Mrs Smith,” he said, putting the trunk on the floor, looking at her.
Elizabeth understood that he was expecting her to approach him. When she was close enough, he said, “Don’t make yourself too comfortable. I’ve arranged some clothes for you and for him.” He gave her body a disgusted look. “Go to the next room and make yourself presentable.”
Opening the trunk, Elizabeth found some old gowns. She got one closest to her size and did as he said. The room behind the small door was a kind of dressing/pot room. There was some lukewarm water in a bowl. She assumed there must be a servant’s entrance somewhere, as she did not recall anyone entering the room to bring the water.
She remembered Brown’s eyes examining her before and locked the door; a shiver ran down her spine. Disgusting man. She removed her dirty dress and washed herself. While she was drying, a knock on the door startled her.
“Mrs Smith,” came the voice of the doctor, “we are going to wash your husband and redress him with clean clothes.”
The mere thought of being forced to help them to completely undress and wash Mr Darcy filled her with panic; she would not be able to cope with that. She closed her eyes and prayed.
“But we need some of the towels that are in there,” the doctor added.
She looked at the small cupboard and saw the towels and sighed loudly in relief. “Of course, Doctor, just give me a moment, please.” She wrapped herself and gave the towels to him.
Once she finished drying and dressing herself, she sat on the floor, hoping they would finish their task before she returned. After what she thought was enough time, she peeked into the room to be pleasantly surprised by Mr Darcy’s refreshed appearance. It was good to see him clean and comfortable again.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“You are very welcome, Mrs Smith,” he replied. “I just want to remind you to keep watch. It is quite likely his fever will last the whole night, but if we are fortunate enough, he will be better by morning.”
Dr Hayford started gathering his own things and was about to leave, when he looked back at Elizabeth. “My dear, I know your appetite is probably not the best at such a moment, but you need to eat something. Have courage,” he said looking into her eyes. “Everything will be fine.” Turning to Brown, he added, “I know you are short of servants here, Mr Brown, but I urge you to try to keep these two well fed. Mrs Smith needs all her strength while looking after her husband. I am sure you understand. ”
He walked to the door and without looking behind, he left saying, “I will see you in the morning, at first light. Have a good night.”
Elizabeth remained where she was as Brown approached her. “I hope you’re worthy of our efforts,” he said with disdain before leaving.
She sat beside Mr Darcy and examined him. His hair was wet, and his expensive clothes were now replaced by much simpler, but clean, ones. Despite his improved appearance, he did not seem to be feeling better. The expression of pain on his face concerned her.
Some minutes later, Elizabeth heard the door opening again. The same young man who had brought the water earlier entered carrying a tray with some food. He put down the tray and left without a word or even a glance in her direction.
The food was not appealing but considering she had only eaten a piece of bread many hours ago, she said grace and ate some of the stew with bread. The tea was very weak and there was no milk or sugar, but at least it was hot, and she took comfort from it.
She sat beside Mr Darcy and started spooning some tea into his mouth.
It would be a long night.
~ ? ~
That night, the local constable, Mr Brand, and Mr Duncan the detective sent from the Bow Street Runners, entered the library where Richard was sealing some letters.
“What news, gentlemen? I am in need of good news,” Richard said, standing up.
“Colonel, indeed, we ’ave some news. However, whether it’s good is yet to be determined,” Mr Duncan said, Richard recognising his strong accent from the east area of London. “In our investigation, we questioned every single soul in the village, includin’ the children. We also visited some of the tenants’ houses and after many hours, our efforts were at last rewarded. We came across a blacksmith, who mentioned his younger son, earlier this morning, had come back ’ome with an extraordinary story about guns and criminals and people bein’ dragged into an old equipage. The man didn’t give his son too much attention, apparently the boy’s known for ’aving a vivid imagination, and the subject was dropped. We went to talk to the boy, but he was silent as a grave. He won’t talk to us.”
Richard scowled. “Why would the boy not talk to you?”
“He told his father that he was afraid we were the criminals who had taken the people he saw earlier,” replied Mr Brand, “and that we had come back to take him as well. Apparently, Mr Duncan’s accent was partially responsible for that,” he added, glancing at Mr Duncan.
Richard sighed. By this account, another person was involved, and quite likely, someone from London.
There was not much they could do without listening to the boy.
Pacing around the room, Richard rubbed his hand on his chin, looking at the two men. Then, he paused, his face softening. “I think I can help you with that.” He rang the bell, ordered a carriage to be prepared and went to change into his uniform.
It did not take long for the three men to be heading towards the parsonage. After the introductions, Richard explained, “Mr Bennet, Miss Bennet, we have some news and a request to make.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Mr Bennet promptly agreed. “Now, tell us the news, Colonel. My heart is not as strong as it used to be, and this expectation is killing me.”
Richard informed them of the recent news about the boy. “As you can see, Miss Bennet, we have a delicate situation, but I believe you can help us.”
“Of course, Colonel. What can I do?”
“I thought the boy would be more comfortable talking to someone who was not so threatening in his eyes,” Richard explained. “And I think you would be the perfect choice. Would you come with us to talk to the boy, Miss Bennet?”
Jane did not think twice. “Of course. Just give me a moment to grab my pelisse and bonnet,” she said, hastily rising to fetch her things.
Once they arrived at the blacksmith’s cottage, Richard asked the three gentlemen to stay in the carriage, while he and Miss Bennet talked to the boy.
He was correct in this strategy. The boy, who looked quite frightened when he heard another carriage approaching, relaxed when he saw Miss Bennet and an illustrious member of His Majesty’s Army in full regimentals entering his house.
While Richard thanked the blacksmith for receiving them, Jane was already inviting the boy to sit with her. The boy, quite in awe of Jane’s beauty, gladly complied.
“What is your name?” Jane asked gently.
“Tommy, ma’am,” the boy replied. He paused, then added, “You look like an angel.”
Jane gave him a weak smile but was too anxious to appreciate the compliment. “Tommy, I heard you saw something this morning, and I need you to tell me everything about it. You know, the lady they took…” Jane paused, taking a deep breath. “She is my beloved sister and I am very concerned for her safety. We need to find her as soon as possible, and I believe you could help us. Would you help me, Tommy, to find my sister, please?”
Tommy, mesmerised by her sweetness, nodded vigorously. “I’ll tell you what I saw, ma’am, and I’m glad I can help.”
Tommy then began to relate his extraordinary story.
“I woke up very early, as I always do. I needed to fetch water for Da’s workshop. I have a big bucket and I go to a small brook on the way to the big house, you know, where the great lady lives. I was on my way, when I saw an old carriage with two men and another one riding a horse. I didn’t know them and was curious about who they could be. Then I followed them, hiding behind the trees.” Tommy stopped and looked up at his father with some guilt in his eyes. His father just nodded in encouragement.
“They stopped,” the boy continued, “and were looking ahead of them at a man who was lying down against a tree, and I saw a lady coming towards him very fast. She woke him and he stood up and they were talking, but then I saw one of the men coming from behind the man, the one who was there resting. That bad man hit him on the head with a big branch.”
Jane heard Richard gasping behind her and she squeezed the boy’s hand. “Yes, Tommy, what happened next?”
“The man fell on his knees and the two other men were holding him. I think they were trying to tie him up, and when the lady tried to help him, the other man, the one riding alone… Ah! Did I tell you they all had masks?” Tommy was now very excited with his story. “He tried to hold the lady, but she fought him and pulled his mask off. She was very brave, your sister, ma’am. I don’t think they were happy, so one of the men grabbed a pistol! A pistol, sir! Like the one we see in the papers, about the war, and he shot at her—”
Jane gasped in horror, bringing both her hands to her face while tears found their way down her cheeks.
Before Richard knew what he was doing, he sat beside her, bringing her into a tight embrace. She rested her head on his chest and sobbed.
“They shot her, Colonel,” she cried. “They shot my poor sister.”
“No, ma’am! They did not shoot the lady. The man saved her.” Tommy, now on his feet, was speaking as loudly as possible.
Both Jane and Richard looked at Tommy in surprise.
Richard let go of Jane, stood up and gently placed his hands on Tommy’s shoulder, kneeling in front of him. “Which man saved her?”
“The man who was on his knees. He freed himself and stood up in front of the pistol. He was the one who was shot,” Tommy said, quite satisfied, looking at Jane as if waiting for her to be happy as well.
But Jane’s eyes were on the colonel. He let go of the boy, slowly moving his tight fists down to his side. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply.
It was now Jane’s turn to act impulsively. She stood up and gently pulled Richard to sit beside her, taking his hand in hers. “What happened then, Tommy?” she whispered, keeping her eyes on Richard’s strained face.
“Well, he fell on the floor, ma’am, and the lady, your sister, she was crying a lot… I am sorry, sir.” Tommy stopped again, seeing the agony in the colonel’s face.
Richard took another deep breath. “Is there anything else, Tommy?”
Tommy fidgeted on his feet, squeezing one hand over the other. “Yes, sir.” He looked back at Jane. “One of the men came and… hit the lady… in her face… and she fell. The bad men took both of them and put them in the carriage and went away.”
A long silence filled the room.
Richard raised his gaze and found Jane’s eyes filled with despair. He looked down to where their hands were clutched together.
“I am sorry, sir,” Tommy said again, lowering his eyes.
Tommy felt his father’s arm around him, but he did not say anything else.
“Thank you, Tommy,” Richard finally said, standing up. “But I have one more question, and I want you to think very hard before answering it. Why do you think they tried to shoot the lady? What did she do to deserve being shot?”
Tommy scowled as he concentrated on the colonel’s question; his eyes were darting around the room, as if he was reliving what he had seen. “The man tried to shoot her after she… yes, after she pulled the mask from the other man who was holding her.”
“Did she look surprised when she saw who the man was?” Jane asked, also standing.
Tommy’s face illuminated. “Yes, ma’am, she did! She was quite surprised when she saw him. And I am sure the man was a gentleman. He had very fine clothes, ma’am, but his face was strange… scary.”
Jane and Richard looked at each other again. Wickham was, after all, involved in Mr Darcy and Elizabeth’s kidnap.
Jane turned to Tommy. “Thank you very much for your help, Tommy,” she said, taking his small face in her hands, kissing him on the forehead. “You are a very brave boy. ”
They made their farewell and left, but Tommy ran after them. “Will they be safe, ma’am?” he asked, his heart in his voice. “Will you be able to find them, to find your sister, I mean?”
Jane’s eyes were filled with tears again as she stroked the boy’s cheek. “I hope so, Tommy. I hope so.”
A silent sob escaped her lips, and she felt Richard’s hand on her shoulder. He offered her a handkerchief and his arm and escorted her back to the carriage.
She felt Richard’s hand over hers and lifted her eyes to him. He looked tired. “Courage, Miss Bennet. Keep your strength. We are going to find them.”
She had no words. What else could be said? She put her other hand on top of his, gently squeezing it, and nodded.
As soon as they arrived at the carriage, Jane threw herself into her father’s arms. “Oh, Papa. It was Mr Darcy’s blood. They shot him then they hit Elizabeth and took them both.”
It took Mr Bennet some time to grasp what Jane was saying. “Is it true, Colonel?” he asked in a trembling voice. “Did they shoot Mr Darcy? Did those cowards hit… and take my girl?”
Richard nodded. He did not have words to explain anything else and lowered his head.
They sat in silence on their journey back to the manor house; only the sound of the wheels on the hard ground and Miss Bennet’s quiet sobs could be heard.
Later, in his chamber, Richard made his prayers and hoped that the next day would bring better news, for he had decided to visit an old acquaintance.
~ ? ~
The room was dark and cold, the only light a flickering flame of an almost extinguished candle. Elizabeth opened her eyes, awakened by a weak noise.
She looked around and realised she was lying on the bed. After having eaten the frugal meal and helping Mr Darcy to drink at least a cup of tea, she had surrendered herself to exhaustion. This time, however, she had lain down on the large bed as far away as possible from Mr Darcy, as if it could make any difference to her already settled disgrace.
Then she heard the noise again.
“Oh, William!”
His face was hidden in the shadows, but a simple touch was enough to make her heart pound; he was burning with fever.
Chastising herself for having slept, she repeated her afternoon routine, pressing wet pieces of cloth on his head. Remembering his pocket watch, she had retrieved from the pile of dirty clothes, she checked the time. It was almost the four in the morning. It would be two to three hours before Dr Hayford’s return.
“Mother?” Darcy said, startling her.
She frowned, confused. “No, William, it is me, Elizabeth.”
“Mother, where are you?” he asked again, more agitated.
Elizabeth did not know what to do as he kept calling for his mother. The sadness in his weak voice broke her heart. She remembered what he had written in his letter, that his mother had died when Georgiana was born.
An idea crossed her mind when he called again. “Yes, William. I am here, beside you,” she said, taking his hand.
Darcy opened his eyes and looked at her, but he seemed to be in another place. “I did not… I did not want… to leave you, Mother.”
“Oh, William. What are you saying?”
“I did not want to leave you. You… were so weak… I knew you were not well, but Father sent me away… back to school… holiday was over. When I came back home, you were not there. You were gone… Forgive me, Mother…”
“Oh, William…” She could not fathom the pain he must have felt returning home and not finding his mother there; just a cold stone on the gr ound.
That information added to all she had learnt about his sense of duty. His mother’s death and Georgiana’s almost elopement were heavy burdens he had been carrying.
With no hesitation, Elizabeth squeezed his hand. “William,” she whispered in his ear. “It was not your fault, my dearest. I never doubted you loved me as much as I loved you.” She remembered a passage from the Bible. “Do not fret for me. I am well. And we are going to see each other again. Now rest, my dear. Rest and be well.”
Darcy’s ragged panting slowed down and soon he was breathing normally again. Elizabeth gently caressed his face until he fell asleep, preparing herself for the labouring hours ahead of her.