“I have never participated in a hunt. I ride in the course of my duties, but I make no claim to being a horseman. I will carry no weapon. I should be perfectly content to follow along and observe the proceedings.”
“I will arrange a steady, seasoned mount for you, Mr. Collins. So long as you remain behind the others, I doubt you shall come to any harm. You are, of course, welcome to return to the house at any time.”
Collins nodded, his expression one of satisfaction, and lapsed once more into silence.
A short while later, Darcy rose to his feet. “We ought to join the ladies before it gets much later.”
The three gentlemen sat in a grouping of chairs that allowed them to continue their earlier conversation while each of the three sisters took their turn at the pianoforte. When Mr. Selkirk excused himself at nine, the family retired for the night.
Elizabeth went upstairs to Mary's room and found matters much as they had been three hours earlier. The two midwives were taking turns attending her sister. Elizabeth had prepared the adjoining bedchamber, and Mrs. Harwood was presently asleep there.
Elizabeth was sent to bed, for there was nothing she could do for Mary, who was dozing between contractions.
She was slipping beneath the covers when Darcy entered the room.
“How is your sister, Elizabeth?”
“Much the same as before, poor thing. She has been in hard labor for hours, and the only encouraging news is that both infants have moved into the proper position for birth. The midwives expect her to labor throughout the night.”
Darcy climbed into bed beside his wife.
“Elizabeth, you are not going to like this, but Mr. Collins intends to join us on the hunt tomorrow. I attempted to dissuade him, but he insists the hours of waiting are too tedious.”
Elizabeth huffed. “Despicable.”
Darcy added, “At least he possesses good table manners. He gave us no cause for embarrassment in Selkirk’s presence.”
“At least he spared us that,” Elizabeth agreed. “What sort of husband leaves on a hunt when his wife is in labor? Rather than seeking to divert himself, he would be better employed waiting to learn whether his wife and children survive the birthing process. He cannot understand that the birth of twins carries considerable danger for both mother and infants.”
Darcy slipped an arm beneath Elizabeth’s shoulders and drew her close until her head rested upon his chest.
“Perhaps he has no love for his wife. I know that I should be in the room with you, seeing how you fare and doing whatever lies within my power to ensure your comfort and safety. I could not endure sitting outside, uncertain of your condition.”
She ran her fingers lightly across his lips. “That gladdens me, Fitzwilliam. I shall be comforted knowing you are with me.”
“Shall I refuse to take him with us?”
“No, take him. If he does not wish of his own accord to remain with her, then I do not want him here. We have no need of that malcontent in the house. The hours will pass more easily if he is not underfoot.”
There was a note of anger in her tone.
Darcy lifted his head so that he could better see her face.
“Has he behaved improperly toward you, Elizabeth?”
“No, sir. He has crossed no boundaries.”
“But?”
She remained silent. She must tread carefully with Fitzwilliam. She had not forgotten how he had dealt with Lord Dunwich.
“Elizabeth,” he said quietly, “did he say or do anything that was improper?”
“He is an imbecile, sir, who knows no better than to govern his tongue. It was nothing.”
“If it was nothing, then it should not cost you to tell me what occurred.”
He was not going to let the matter rest.
