10

The following morning at breakfast, another letter from Netherfield arrived. This one was addressed to Elizabeth, who would not surrender her post as easily as Jane had done the day before. She stood at her father’s side, one arm extended to keep the snatching hands of her mother and sisters at bay, and read the note aloud.

My dearest Lizzy,

I find myself very unwell this morning, which I suppose is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday and taking a chill. My kind friends will not hear of my returning home until I am better. Caroline has been ever so attentive – she summoned Mr. Jones first thing this morning, therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to see me. Excepting a sore throat and a headache, there is not much the matter with me, and I am hoping to return home in a few days’ time.

Yours etc,

Jane

Mr. Bennet gently reached for the note and perused it after his favourite child had given it over. “Well, my dear,” he said to his wife, “I suppose that if Jane should die of this illness, it will be a comfort to know that it was in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.”

“People do not die of trifling colds,” Mrs. Bennet cried, and then glanced to Mr. Collins, still unwilling to discourage his interest in Jane. “And she went to Netherfield out of generosity toward her intimate friend – Caroline she calls her!”

Elizabeth did not bother to conceal her distaste. Caroline indeed! Sudden suspicion crept into her mind, and she sank back into her seat as she allowed these ruminations to drown out the chaos around her.

It was strange enough that Miss Bingley would seek Jane’s company, unless she meant to insult Jane by doing so on an evening when Mr. Bingley was away. But Jane’s note painted Miss Bingley in a far more flattering light that Elizabeth could credit. Had the woman suddenly ceased to disapprove of Jane? No, more likely she had some other scheme about, and poor Jane would be too ill to see through the harpy’s mischief.

“I must go to Netherfield at once,” Elizabeth said to her father.

Mr. Bennet frowned. “Now Lizzy, I know you wish to see your dashing Captain, but I have just convinced your mother that the carriage cannot be spared today. Jane rode Nellie to Netherfield and the rest of the horses are needed on the farm.”

“Then I shall walk. I will pack a trunk for her before I leave, and ask Mr. Bingley to send someone to collect it. She will want her own things, for she is not near enough the size of Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst to be comfortable in whatever they might loan her.”

“And of course you would be a great comfort to her,” Mrs. Bennet cried, a glint in her eye that told Elizabeth her mother was thinking chiefly of Captain Darcy.

Elizabeth would not deceive herself in this – she would indeed be glad of his company, but she intended to spend most of her time at Jane’s side. Of course, Jane would likely spend many hours resting, and have little need of her….

Two hours later, Elizabeth met the Darcy barouche as she walked up the front drive of Netherfield. The equipage stopped, the door opened, and Captain Darcy disembarked with a broad grin at the sight of Elizabeth as his mother peeked out from the carriage.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Lady Anne said with a nod of greeting. “Dear girl, did you walk here?”

“We were on our way to Longbourn to collect you – and some clothes for your sister. Bingley insists you both stay with us until Miss Bennet is recovered,” Captain Darcy said, his words rushed with excitement.

Elizabeth was deeply affected by his delight in seeing her, in having her close for the next few days – until she recollected her appearance. She glanced down at her muddied dress and ruined boots, let out a nervous laugh, and glanced back up at him with a face burning in mortification.

She stared at him in stupid silence before managing to stammer, “I… I did. Walk here, that is. ‘Tis but three miles.”

Captain Darcy held her gaze, as if he felt the same thrill of infatuation that rendered her so ineloquent. “I know you perfectly capable of such a distance, though ‘tis a pity you had no company for the journey.”

“And it speaks very well of you, that you should come all this way for you sister,” Lady Anne said, causing her companions to turn to her with matching startled expressions as they recollected her presence. “You must have received your sister’s missive a little while ago.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, rallying herself to recall her purpose. “I have packed a bag for Jane – and one for myself, for I suspected Mr. Bingley might make such a generous offer. I hope he will be so kind as to have them brought here from Longbourn? My affection for Jane does not extend so far as carrying our valises across the countryside.”

Captain Darcy was gracious enough to laugh at her feeble jest. “You have more than proven your affection for Jane. She is fortunate indeed to have such a loving sister. If I were ill, Marcus could hardly be troubled to put down his paper and go into the next room.”

“If he was as concerned as Miss Elizabeth over such an illness, your years at sea would have sent him to Bedlam,” Lady Anne drawled, her countenance all sweetness, belying the edge to her words.

“I am in awe of all the Darcys for allowing him such adventures, though they must have been fascinating,” Elizabeth said to Lady Anne, hoping to ease the sudden tension. “I should be obliged to lock Jane in her room for a year if she intended to go anywhere further than London!”

“Let us be glad you did not have to walk that far, my dear,” Lady Anne replied with a smile. She took her son’s hand as she came down from the carriage. “And now I believe you must come inside and allow me to loan you a new gown before Miss Bingley sees you and finds herself in a sick bed as well.”

Captain Darcy and Elizabeth both chortled before linking their arms and following Lady Anne back into the manor.

***

Jane heard the knob turn in the door to her room, and hastily dabbed her face with a wet cloth before leaning back against the pillow pillows in her bed. She affected an expression of disorientation. “Lizzy? Is that you?”

“I am here, dearest. And Mr. Bingley has sent for your things – I mean to stay by your side.” She placed a hand on Jane’s forehead. “You have no fever, but you are very clammy. Oh, Jane, it was very wrong of Mamma to send you out in such weather! I ought to have prevented it.”

Jane let out a little whimper; she nearly wished the same, that she had not come at all. But she would have Mr. Bingley, and had promised Caroline she would persuade him to give up Netherfield and take a house far away from Hertfordshire. Away from Mamma. Perhaps if they could not find a suitable estate near Pemberley, they could reside in Kent, near Elizabeth and Captain Darcy. They would be happy, they would all be settled and happy. It would all turn out well, even that poor little girl would get a mother.

Not knowing what else to say, Jane looked at her sister and observed, “That is a fine new gown.”

Elizabeth laughed gently as she sat down beside Jane. “Lady Anne loaned it to me, until our things can be sent for. But not before I scandalised all the servants by arriving with my hem six inches deep in mud. I am certain I heard your friend Miss Bingley call me positively mediaeval under her breath when I did not manage to evade her.”

“Please, Lizzy, do not speak so ill of Caroline,” Jane said in feeble protest, punctuating her speech with a cough.

Elizabeth appeared taken aback. “I had not thought… you said she was no friend to your relationship with Mr. Bingley.”

“I was wrong,” Jane said. She knew she could say no more, and began to nestle herself deeper into the pillows. “I would like to rest.”

“Shall I sit with you while you sleep? I could read to you.”

Jane offered her a weary smile. “I believe we both know you would rather discuss your book with Captain Darcy, and I shall hardly miss you when I am asleep, dear Lizzy.”

Elizabeth bit back a smile, her eyes shining with joy. How simple it was for her and her handsome captain! For a moment, bile rose in Jane’s chest as envy roared and riled in her gut. She let out a groan of genuine discomfort, and Elizabeth patted her shoulder.

“I will look in on you in a few hours. Rest well, dearest.” Elizabeth left the room with a parting glance that belied a trace of guilt at her own happy courtship, and Jane rolled over in the bed. She would certainly not be getting any rest.

***

Elizabeth had thought little of Jane’s belief in Miss Bingley’s friendship, for Jane had ever been prone to think of well of those who did not deserve it. But she could not at all account for Miss Bingley herself behaving as if she and Jane were indeed the dearest of friends. Elizabeth’s first explanation was that the lady wished to present herself to Mr. Darcy as a consummate hostess, but there was something more in it. Miss Bingley spoke warmly of Jane to her step-brother, even when nobody was in the room whom she might mean to impress.

Shortly after Elizabeth had gone up to look in on Jane and been rebuffed again, she found herself in the drawing room with the rest of the Netherfield party. Captain Darcy was seated at a desk near where Elizabeth was sitting with a book, and Mrs. Hurst fidgeted with her bracelets as she asked Captain Darcy to convey her regards in the letter he was composing to his sister.

“Do you not long to see Miss Darcy again, Caro? I never met with anybody who delighted me as much. Such a countenance, such manners, and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite!”

Miss Bingley tittered at her sister. “She is talented, though so very timid about performing; she ought not shrink away from sharing her gifts. But what do you think? Dear Jane was so taken by hearing Louisa and I play last evening that she has asked me to instruct her on the instrument when she recovers. I had thought her shy, though not as reserved as Miss Darcy, for of course Jane has moved more in society. How wonderfully admirable I think it of her, to wish to add another accomplishment to her many charms.”

“Excellent!” Mr. Bingley grinned broadly. “She is very welcome to come and practice here at Netherfield whenever she likes, for I understand two of her sisters might already be making use of the instrument at Longbourn. And if Miss Mary is devoting her time to concertos, Miss Elizabeth, I am sure I should not be the only one delighted if you joined Miss Bennet in her pursuits here.”

“You are very kind, sir,” Elizabeth replied, noticing this comment had drawn Captain Darcy’s attention away from the composition of his letter.

“I have heard but you play but twice, Miss Elizabeth,” said he. “Indeed, I have mentioned your performance at Lucas Lodge to my sister.”

Lady Anne looked up from the game of chess she was playing with the Colonel. “It seems you share that accomplishment, as well as a fondness for reading, with my dear Georgiana – I believe you would be fast friends, Miss Elizabeth. And if you would like to come take my place here after I have soundly defeated my nephew, you will have that pastime in common with her as well – though I must warn you, I suspect he is letting me win.”

“If you are not truly the superior player, then you may be the better partner for me in a game,” Elizabeth quipped. The colonel tipped over his king and gave a playful bow to his aunt before stepping away from their game. Lady Anne began to reset the pieces and then beckoned to Elizabeth to join her. Elizabeth was happy to oblige.

“I have no doubt you shall be a worthy opponent, Miss Elizabeth,” Captain Darcy said, his gaze lingering over her.

“Indeed, how very accomplished you are, just like your sister,” Miss Bingley said to Elizabeth with a syrupy smile.

“It is amazing to me,” said Mr. Bingley. “Young ladies must have a great deal of patience to become so very accomplished, as they all are.”

“Something you would know nothing about,” Mr. Darcy replied drily, looking up from his book with a droll smile for his friend.

Miss Bingley tittered with laughter. “All ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean? Surely the young ladies we have been speaking of are far superior to the sort that are usually to be met with.”

Mr. Bingley laughed at himself and gave a shrug to his companions, who all began to observe his conversation. “I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she is accomplished. Of course, I am perfectly ready to agree that the ladies of my acquaintance are vastly superior, especially those in Hertfordshire.”

Mr. Darcy had such a sardonic twinkle in his eye that Elizabeth began to see why Kitty had thought him rather like their father. “The word is applied rather generously,” he drawled. “Often it is hurled at any girl who nets a purse or trims a bonnet, but I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen in the whole range of my acquaintance who are really accomplished.”

“Nor I, I am sure,” Miss Bingley agreed, smiling and posing elegantly, as if waiting for him to declare her to be one of them.

“You must comprehend a great deal in your ideal of an accomplished woman,” Elizabeth said, losing a pawn to her opponent in a careless move. Lady Anne smiled at her, sharing in the amusing banter, and seeming to approve of Elizabeth’s attempt to goad her eldest son.

Mr. Darcy could do little more than answer in the affirmative before his faithful assistant swept in to agree with him. “Certainly,” Miss Bingley purred. “A truly refined, accomplished woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages to deserve the word. Besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her poise and disposition, or the word shall be but half deserved.”

Elizabeth was ready to observe that should such a woman as this truly exist, she should no doubt be crowned queen of all the world, when she caught Captain Darcy’s eye. He gave her a little smile before observing, “And to this she must add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

Elizabeth smiled back at him, acknowledging what she knew must be a compliment to herself. Miss Bingley simply ignored him.

“My dear friend Jane, for example, seeks to improve herself in music, but she is already worthy indeed of being deemed an accomplished woman by the grace of her demeanour. She possesses such sweetness and beauty united so harmoniously that I had not imagined any improvement to her character necessary until she mentioned her interest in the pianoforte. And I think it vastly laudable that one should always be seeking to better oneself.”

“With such notions of accomplishment, one would have to always be bettering oneself,” Elizabeth said merrily.

“I know you like to tease, Miss Eliza, but surely you will join me in exclaiming your sister’s perfections; you must know of them better than anybody here, and I cannot claim every bit of feminine devotion.” Miss Bingley smiled with satisfaction, as if it had been an act of supreme benevolence to simply speak well of another female.

Elizabeth could not account for such behaviour; Miss Bingley had seemed more prone to elevating herself by disparaging her fellow woman than by praising them. Happily, Mr. Bingley did not think it all strange that his sister should speak so warmly of Jane, and he was ready to agree in his affable way.

“You have both shown Miss Bennet sisterly devotion that is very pleasing,” Mr. Bingley said. “If that is an accomplishment, I will be so bold as to say you have no equal. I am sure Miss Bennet is very grateful for it – and now you will say it is another of her perfections. By Jove, I hope I am spoken of half so warmly by my neighbours as the delightful Miss Bennet!”

“And I daresay you have done just as much to deserve it,” was Mr. Darcy’s wry response, before he returned to his reading, and Miss Bingley moved to sit beside him and take up the second volume of the book that occupied him.

The afternoon passed in such domestic companionship until it was time to dress for dinner, and though Elizabeth was loath to part from the pleasing company of Captain Darcy and his mother, she felt it right to take a tray with Jane upstairs. She was approaching Jane’s room when she was arrested by the sound of raised voices on the other side of the door.

Elizabeth hesitated, attempting to make out the muffled words from within the room, and was subsequently discovered when the door opened to reveal Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. The latter offered Elizabeth a tight smile before excusing herself and sweeping down the corridor.

Miss Bingley managed a bit more warmth. “We have been so worried for Jane, and yet so eager for her company. But she wishes to join us this evening, and I have made special preparations. There is a fireplace in the smaller family dining room, and so with a warm shawl and a place by the fire, I believe dear Jane will be very comfortable. I hope you approve, Miss Elizabeth.”

Jane looked more frightened than feeble, despite having several shawls wrapped about her. She offered Elizabeth a tentative smile and said, “I cannot promise I shall not tire before the meal is finished, but I would like to make the attempt. The day of rest has done much for me.”

Despite her concern, Elizabeth would not deny Jane a chance to be in Mr. Bingley’s company; she could only wonder that Miss Bingley had no fear of contagion. If Jane was ill at all. She reproached herself for such scepticism, and yet she could not suppress the recollection of her mother’s schemes for Jane.

“Of course, I should be much relieved if you are indeed well enough to dine downstairs, and I am sure I will not be the only one. I was worried of finding you far worse when I left Longbourn this morning.”

“And on foot,” Miss Bingley cried, her veneer of tenderness slipping for just a moment. “I cannot imagine the depth of such anguish as would move you to embark on such an endeavour. A true mission of mercy! But it shall all turn out for the best. I have ordered a wonderful dinner for us. What a picture we shall make, in such a sisterly pose.” Miss Bingley linked arms with each of her guests and led them downstairs.

***

Caroline was a terrible actress. Jane knew Elizabeth suspected aught was amiss; even Mrs. Hurst had found them out and been displeased by her sister’s intrigue. She had attempted to discourage Caroline from her desperate plot, and failing in that, had then applied to Jane.

Mrs. Hurst had almost gotten the better of Jane, but Caroline refused to back down. And now she sat confidently across from Jane, carrying on just as they had agreed. “How well you look, Jane, but are you quite comfortable? Charles, I believe her shawl is slipping on that shoulder – could you?”

Mr. Bingley adjusted Jane’s shawl, his hand lingering on her shoulder before he took a seat at the head of the table and moved his chair closer to Jane. “Are you well, Miss Bennet? Anything you may require – but it is very warm!”

“It is,” Caroline agreed. “But how frigid the weather has turned! I am glad of the fire, but I have prepared rather better for it.” She fussed with the thin, delicate lace at the shoulders of her gown.

Caroline had insisted on an intimate meal – a family meal – and Jane was glad of the informal seating. Mr. Darcy, Lady Anne, the Hursts, and the colonel all sat nearby, engaged in lively conversation. They formed a barrier between Jane and Elizabeth, who was lost to her own discussion with Captain Darcy at the far end of the table.

So much the better, if Elizabeth was to remain so happily distracted. There had been suspicion in her countenance upstairs, and Jane knew she could not manage to deceive her sister for much longer. The warm flush the fire brought to her complexion and the discomfort wrought there by her untenable situation must surely give her the appearance of being truly unwell.

Her malaise did begin to lessen once the Bingleys’ solicitude gave way to a more agreeable turn of conversation. They spoke of London, of Meryton, and of the upcoming ball but a week away. Caroline took every opportunity to flatter Jane for Mr. Bingley’s sake, and when she managed to draw Mr. Darcy into their conversation, Jane held up her end of the bargain.

Despite a few wary gazes from Elizabeth, Jane began to settle. She felt her body relax as the delight of Mr. Bingley’s company washed over her, reminding her of what felicity she might have – and why she had made a deal with the very devil.

Toward the end of the meal, Mr. Bingley sheepishly observed that as it was indeed an informal dinner, he was obliged to remove his jacket lest he sweat into his ragout from the warmth of the fire. The other gentlemen teased him, but he merrily bandied back and forth with them about it until the colonel saucily declared that he wished to doff his jacket as well, and he would not have his honour impugned for it.

Jane privately marvelled at the sight of Mr. Bingley attired only in his shirtsleeves. There was something intimate in it, and she perceived him move his chair nearer still when he sat back down again. The thrill of her attraction to him at last overtook her beleaguered conscience.

Perhaps it was worth the dull ache in her chest. Mr. Bingley would not withdraw his attentions to her before she could manage to demonstrate her own regard, which was far easier accomplished with Caroline’s support rather than her subversion. And Elizabeth and Captain Darcy appeared completely lost in one another.

Jane could almost delude herself into believing that all was truly well, that there was no ominous ugliness looming. Mr. Bingley was so terribly kind to her. Even Caroline was being amiable enough to paint a picture in Janel’s mind of a future where such felicity might outlast her own usefulness to her new ally.

She wondered if Caroline truly loved Marcus Darcy. Perhaps she merely wished to become the next mistress of Pemberley, an event which may in fact occur tragically soon. But Jane refused to believe the worst. She could rationalise giving aid to a woman in love, as she herself nearly was, but she could not stomach simply helping her friend ensnare a great fortune. Her mother would have no qualms with it, but Elizabeth would despise her, for she, too, was likely to marry into the Darcy family.

Caroline had suggested that in order to make Jane’s illness more believable, she ought to retire early. The suspense of worrying for her, Caroline had said, would heighten her step-brother’s love. And of course, Caroline could not relish the admiration her generosity inspired in Marcus Darcy, with the object of her doting charity still present to claim her attention. Therefore, Jane excused herself at Caroline’s subtle signal.

She repented every step she took up the stairs to her guest room. It was too late to renege now. Caroline could destroy her, exposing her false illness and turning Mr. Bingley against her. Just as Caroline could do whenever she chose, whenever they quarrelled – they were to be connected forever. Jane might make the most of her aunt’s grand connections to placate her future sister, but would it ever be enough?

No matter; she was in too deep now. She desperately wished for Elizabeth’s consolation, and yet her beloved sister was the last person in the world she could wish to know of the mess she had made. Once abed, Jane gave way to her wretchedness and cried herself to sleep.