Chapter 11

11

E lizabeth groaned, stretched, and wriggled her shoulders. "Next time, Charlotte, I will take notice of you and play a piece by Bach or Beethoven and not make up music at a gathering."

Her friend laughed. "You need to get up and walk around the room a few times every hour or so, Eliza, or you might never dance again." She gave a sly smile. "Then what would Mr. Darcy do?"

Elizabeth grumbled under her breath. "That man! If only he had not come into the country, then everything would still be as normal. How was I to know he knew so much of Santorio's work?"

Charlotte shook her head and sighed. "The water is boiling to make you fresh tea. We can have some cake as well, and then you will be refreshed to continue your task."

Elizabeth dropped into the comfortable chair beside Charlotte's. "Yes. I don't know why Papa was so insistent that I must write out this piece so quickly."

"Of course you know why." Her friend sounded quite as tart at Elizabeth could. "Mr. Darcy is going to find out that his sister hasn't received it and is going to ask how you got it before it was even published, unless it is published soon and your uncle can make up some excuse about the first printing being too poor in quality to send out."

"As I said," Elizabeth clenched her jaw. "Why did he have to come into the country?"

"I should rather ask, my friend, why you should choose to play a completely new piece in front of him. Could it be that you wished to show off your talent?" With that, she looked sideways at her, and Elizabeth jumped to her feet.

"I'll make that tea, rather than have you lecture me. And no, of course I did not wish to show off my talent. I am quite comfortable with hiding it outside this locality." She lifted the lid of the kettle with the rag to check that it was boiling properly. "And besides, you know I can't adhere to music when it is written in front of me. It always changes a bit."

"How do you think Bach or any of the others would feel if they knew you changed parts of their music when you were playing it?"

"They'd do the same for my music if they were playing that," Elizabeth shrugged carelessly. "It's the way it is. My fingers just want to make it mine." She giggled suddenly. "I bet Miss Bingley or her sister would have made much of the fact that I couldn't read music properly if I played something they knew."

"True." Charlotte set out slices of cake on two plates, and covered the basket again. Elizabeth crossed the room back to her.

"Anyway, what have you been doing while I was busy making distracting noises on the piano?"

Charlotte shrugged a little. "I have been beginning to think of new words for the songs we might write together. I know you like to write the tunes first, but these little poems seemed to come into my head in the night."

"Charlotte! That sounds wonderful. When Mr. Darcy said last night that he hadn't known Santorio wrote songs, I thought we ought to do more, and I know it would help you out, too." She was delighted. "May I read them?"

"Yes of course — when you have finished this piece ready to send to your uncle. And don't forget, there's the song you sang last night to finish, as well."

Elizabeth groaned, and reached for her plate. "You are quite, quite cruel. You know that."

She reached home in the middle of the afternoon, followed by the faithful Stephens, having waved farewell to Charlotte when she turned off for Lucas Lodge.

There was much excitement in the sitting room, and Mama seemed much louder than usual.

"What has happened?" Elizabeth was happy that Mama was distracted and wouldn't ask about what Elizabeth had been doing. Going for a walk was such a routine answer as to not raise any interest.

"Jane has been invited to dine at Netherfield with Miss Bingley and her sister!" Mama's voice was alive with glee. "It is only a pity that the gentlemen are dining with the officers tonight. But Jane might well have to stay the night, for it looks like rain."

"I don't think the rain looks so likely as to prevent the carriage from returning, Mama." Elizabeth took off her bonnet and shook her curls a bit looser.

"The carriage cannot be spared. Jane will ride Nellie."

Elizabeth stared at her mother and Jane in shock. "But she cannot arrive to dine when soaking wet! And they will think she is trying to trap Mr. Bingley."

"Not at all, Lizzy. Do not make such a fuss. It is all quite decided."

Elizabeth turned to Papa, who was hiding behind his newspaper. "Papa! It isn't safe to send Jane out when you can see she has a cold developing after last night. Can we not spare the coach at all? After all, the fields are too wet to need the horses."

"Lizzy!" Jane remonstrated with her. "I don't mind riding, and Nellie is very sure-footed. I do not want to miss the opportunity of going."

Elizabeth sighed. "I hope you will be all right, Jane. You must wrap up warmly."

All her fears were realised when she got a note from Netherfield the next morning. She huffed at Mama. "I will have to walk over there this morning. You know how little Jane likes to ask for anything, and I cannot see her getting better unless I can assist her."

She carefully packed as much music paper in her reticule as she thought she could get away with. Perhaps she might have the opportunity when sitting with Jane to write up more.

She hurried out. While it was three miles to Netherfield, Lucas Lodge was in the other direction, and she must first tell Charlotte where she was going. Thankfully, the rain had stopped overnight, even though the ground was very muddy.

Apart from Stephens following behind her, Elizabeth was free to think of the next piece that was filling her head. She laughed out loud; Charlotte would be pleased, this one was not at all mournful. It was heart-poundingly martial. That would be different.

She was surprised the party was still at breakfast when she was shown into Netherfield's breakfast room, but was mollified a little when Mr. Bingley appeared to be very concerned for Jane. She kept her gaze on him, trying to ignore the sneers on the faces of both his sisters, and the inconspicuous Mr. Hurst.

Mr. Darcy was standing by the window with his coffee cup, and regarded her steadily, but didn't speak. Elizabeth supposed there was nothing much extra to add to everything Mr. Bingley had said, and reminded herself that she was quite, quite indifferent about it as she climbed the stairs behind the housekeeper.

But she pushed thoughts of Mr. Darcy aside when she saw her sister. "Oh dear, Jane! You look as if you're really suffering. Has Mr. Jones been?"

"Yes, Miss Elizabeth," the housekeeper broke in. "He left the willow bark powders and said that he was sure you'd be along soon and knew what to do. I have ordered a tray with hot water and honey for you use to give them to Miss Bennet, and I'll get a tray made up for you, too."

"Thank you, Mrs. Nicholls, you are very good." Elizabeth settled down to nurse her sister, who was soon dozing fitfully.

It was fortunate she'd not taken out her music paper and pencil when Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst arrived to call upon Jane, and Elizabeth sat and fumed internally as they gossiped snidely about people in town that neither of the Bennet sisters knew, disturbing Jane and ignoring Elizabeth, who wished her sister could get the rest she needed in order to recover — and that she, Elizabeth, would finally get the chance to work on her music.

She was so deep in thought that she almost missed hearing Miss Bingley begin to laud Miss Darcy. She suddenly heard the word Santorio, and it drew her attention. She was glad that she had picked up a book and was looking at it, and she pretended to be so absorbed in it that she hadn't heard the conversation.

"And of course, Miss Darcy has had access to the finest masters, and practices all the hours she can." Miss Bingley's voice was quite strident. "One can never be truly accomplished when only practicing occasionally."

I wonder how many hours you practice, Miss Bingley? Elizabeth thought uncharitably, but she decided it would be much better for Jane if the conversation was allowed to wither for lack of argument. And she was right. Thankfully, it was only ten minutes or so later that the ladies were gone down to lunch, hoping the men would be back from their shooting party.

Elizabeth smiled at Jane and rang down for fresh hot water to give Jane some more willow bark. "For you will need it, dearest. You must have quite a headache after listening so politely."