Page 124 of The Crown’s Gift

"How can you sit?"

"Standing will not assist Mrs Bingley."

"Nor will sitting. Nothing assists. That is the horror."

Sir Thomas entered. "You may assist by remaining where Jane can find you if she asks, eating something before morning, and not requiring every servant to report upon matters they cannot discuss."

"How long will it be?"

"No one knows."

"That cannot be the answer."

"It is the only one."

From above came the muffled sound of Jane's pain.

Bingley went white.

Darcy stood then and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Breathe. If she asks for you, do not carry your terror into the room."

"How?"

"I do not know. But Sir Thomas did it for Georgiana, and I did it badly until he corrected me. We shall practice."

The unlikely lesson occupied minutes, not hours. Hours refused occupation.

Elizabeth sat beside Jane when permitted. She cooled her face, supported her during pains, and offered no cheerful lies.

"I cannot," Jane gasped once.

"You are."

"Knowing it does not make this easier."

"No. But this pain will move. You need survive only the one that is here."

Lady Bennet stood on Jane's other side. "Crush Lizzy's hand, not mine. She is younger."

Jane laughed and cried at once.

Near dawn, Mrs Jones sent Elizabeth out. Lady Bennet remained. Bingley was summoned briefly because Jane asked for him.

He entered trembling and came out twenty minutes later transformed by helpless love.

"She told me to stop apologizing," he said.

"Then stop," Sir Thomas replied.

"I apologized for apologizing."

Darcy put a cup into his hand.

The sun rose. Breakfast cooled untouched. Footsteps crossed overhead. A door opened and closed. Sir Thomas stood at the library window watching light reach the trees where Jane had played as a child.

He could not run toward this danger or read it away. He could only remain.

At half past nine, a cry sounded from above.