Elizabeth looked wildly into the eyes of her husband’s aunt. The new mother had suspected her time had come with the first pain but had felt unwilling to accept such a circumstance until another, more experienced, woman acknowledged the obvious. Mrs. Darcy was in labor.

The duke dutifully escorted Kitty Bennet to her sister in the far corner as the younger sister had kept a keen eye for Elizabeth’s whereabouts. Immediately observing female distress, he walked away to fetch his friend, Darcy.

Elizabeth recognized her sister as Kitty completed the semi-circle of privacy by standing across from the two seated women. As Elizabeth’s hands flew to her midsection, Catherine Bennet signaled to a footman.

“Find Mrs. Reynolds, quickly, but discreetly,” the young woman ordered like a practiced grand woman.

“Well done, Miss Catherine,” Lady Matlock complimented her one-time pupil in the arts of society. Then Lady Matlock cringed as Elizabeth seized her hand and squeezed.

As the pain passed, Elizabeth caught her breath.

“Elizabeth!” A panicked Fitzwilliam joined the sudden birthing party in the corner of the ballroom, his face was whiter than his cravat.

Lady Matlock stood up and helped slow her nephew down.

“She is well, Fitzwilliam. You and Miss Catherine must continue. Hold the follies. I shall retire with Mrs. Darcy and your housekeeper so we may see to the business at hand.”

“I shall go with my wife!” He began to argue, but Elizabeth spoke up as another song had begun, and now people were noticing both she and her husband were sitting out the set.

“No, please. Don’t spoil the ball on account of my foolishness. I shall go upstairs to rest and perhaps this is another false alarm . . .” Elizabeth’s cry was caught in her throat as the worst pain yet crossed her abdomen, and she felt her waters break. A puddle began to pool at her slippers, and they all looked down in shock.

Lady Matlock raised three fingers and three footmen immediately came to assist Mrs. Darcy to her suite.

“Elizabeth!” Mr. Darcy began, but his aunt and wife left. Kitty remained with her brother. Gently, she put a hand on his arm and took a deep breath.

“I know you wish to be with her, but we must help her. Here. If we do not carry on, all will become curious. My sister will not want all and sundry waiting in the hall as she labors.”

Numb, Mr. Darcy barely nodded as Kitty looped her arm into his and steered him back towards the Fitzwilliams. Behind them, maids cleaned the evidence of Mrs. Darcy’s distress, and to those who missed the swift choreography of removing a laboring woman from the ballroom, it signified as nothing more than someone careless with their drink. Alistair Darcy returned with two glasses of punch to the empty settee. As he carefully sipped one glass, he enjoyed the spectacle of the two maids on their hands and knees cleaning the floor before him.

Kitty and Mr. Darcy discovered Lord Matlock and Viscount Ashbourne near the punch. As the soon-to-be-father was unable to speak, Kitty took the duty of explaining quietly what had transpired. Lord Matlock offered to take charge of Mr. Darcy, and the Viscount Ashbourne asked Kitty to dance.

“I’m not certain if that’s such a good idea, we ought to prepare for our performance,” she tried to give an excuse.

“Nonsense, I’ve danced with Anne. And Georgiana. If I do not dance a set with you, all shall notice and think we are quarreling,” he dismissed her objection and slipped his arm into hers. The gesture registered to both of them a startling bolt of energy, and Kitty looked up into Robert’s eyes. His light eyes gazed lovingly at her and Catherine felt her breath catch in her throat. She closed her eyes and shook her head, willing her body to calm from the troubled times besetting her family.

The set was to be the last before the engagement was announced between Anne de Bourgh and Viscount Ashbourne, followed by a supper in their honor and then the follies. The stage had been refashioned in the formal drawing room, with far more seats for the proposed audience. Kitty’s insides began to turn somersaults as she could not isolate that which most vexed her; the performance for such a public crowd, her sister’s labor, or the one subject she had routinely told herself did NOT upset her which was the engagement.

“You are much lighter on your feet than my cousins,” Robert complimented her as she took her turns and skips.

She mumbled a thank you and realized with Elizabeth away in her rooms giving birth, for the first time in her life, Kitty was the only Bennet girl in a ballroom full of people. A sudden shyness overcame her that had never before impaired her social abilities. Her focus on her dancing allowed her to avoid catching Robert’s gaze directly until the set came to a close and the music stopped.

Lord and Lady Matlock, along with Lady Catherine de Bourgh stood before the small orchestra as the musicians quietly began to pack up to move to the drawing room for the follies.

“My friends and family, your host and my nephew, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, has given me the privilege of addressing you this evening to share the happiest of news. . . “ James Fitzwilliam’s voice boomed in the sudden silence of the ballroom.

Kitty realized all eyes were about to turn to look at her dance partner and she did not wish to be the woman standing next to him in such an awkward manner. Silently, she skittered away to prepare for the follies and hoped to catch a servant to learn of how her sister fared.

Robert Fitzwilliam cringed as his father announced his future and he turned to tell his new friend his sincerest regrets that his life was not his own. But Kitty was gone.

As the applause broke out and people nudged him forward, all the next Earl of Matlock could do was accept the congratulations. He edged his way ahead and took his place, standing next to his mouse of a cousin, Anne, beginning the performance of a lifetime.