The next day broke crisp and sunny, the clear blue skies and the lush spring scents inviting optimism. When Jane Bennet opened her eyes, she finally felt the fog of illness lift. Her head was light and fresh at last. She couldn't wait to spring out of bed as she felt she'd missed a lifetime being confined to the sickbed.
Jane had some recollection of her sister Elizabeth hovering above her, the vision interspersed with moments of darkness and delirium, so she wasn't certain it hadn't been a dream. In these blurry memories, Lizzy had been talking feverishly (or perhaps it had been Jane's fever talking?) about a secretly pregnant Miss Bingley, about a Mr Darcy waving his hands menacingly at Mrs Hurst out under the pouring rain, about a different Mr Darcy altogether who was kind and considerate and charming and had captured Elizabeth's dreams.
Since none of that made particular sense and Jane doubted it could all have happened in the two days she'd been bedridden, she rightfully concluded that it was all a figment of her imagination. She so eagerly anticipated the moment she could finally leave the oppressive seclusion of her room that she soon put all the nonsense out of her mind. Instead, she concentrated on picking something suitable to wear.
On another floor altogether, Elizabeth was waking up to a new day as well. During the long sleepless hours she'd become determined to find a way to confirm that Mr Darcy was indeed charmed by her. If that were so, it would be much easier for her to reconcile her own growing attraction to him.
It had been easy to detest him when she'd been convinced he was a self-important, condescending, insolent man. With each encounter, however, he'd grown sweeter, nobler and more magnanimous than she could have ever expected.
Of course, she couldn't just blatantly approach him. She should be more cunning about it, especially given the limited amount of time she had before it became inappropriate for her to extend her visit.
When she found out that Jane was already up and about, she realized that she had even less time than she'd thought. In fact, the two Bennet sisters could be leaving Netherfield any moment now, as soon as they found a means of transportation. Apparently, neither Jane would be able to walk the three miles back, nor would Lizzie venture near a horse anytime soon.
She couldn't dwell on it, however, since the news of Jane's recovery put her in an immediate good mood. She craved to be in her sister's company again. As soon as she'd completed her morning toilette, she made it expressly to Jane's room.
"Dearest Jane!" Elizabeth cried as she threw her hands around Jane's shoulders. "Tell me there isn't a trace of that hateful illness and you are feeling like your former self."
Jane returned the hug with equal affection.
"I still feel weak and a bit faint," she said, "but I see the end of it at last. I feel quite embarrassed I've become such an imposition to Mr Bingley and almost can't bear to face him after taking advantage of his kindness for so long."
"You shouldn't worry another second!" Lizzy assured her. "Mr Bingley has been nothing but overwhelmed with concern over your well-being. He'd be so pleased to see you recovered. I'm afraid I'm the one who has become the imposition. If it weren't for our scheming mother, we might have never set foot inside Netherfield."
"Would you have regretted that?" Jane asked with a sly smile. "Either you have been up to an adventurous sojourn or my imagination has run wild with the fever and all the draughts I've consumed."
"How can I regret something I'd have had no experience of?" Lizzy said. "If you are asking me whether I'm fond of turning my life on its head and becoming entangled in secrets I have no place in, then yes, I regret ever letting our reckless mother send you riding over here, then following along."
"So, it's true then! I have not dreamed it! My Lizzy is in love!"
"Hush!" Elizabeth hissed. "Whatever has gotten in your head! I've never used such potent phrasing to describe my confused feelings."
"But you have changed your mind about the abominable Mr Darcy, as you used to describe him."
Elizabeth took hold of Jane's pale hands and pulled her towards the edge of the bed. Both sat down and lowered their heads towards each other confidentially.
"I might have," she said shyly and lowered her long dark eyelashes. "I've come to see a side of him that has not been easily recognizable upon first meeting him. Despite his air of smugness and arrogance, he's turned out to have a kinder, more charitable core."
"And you have reason to believe he feels similarly about you, now, don't you?" Jane whispered excitedly.
"I'm not proud of how I've come to learn of it, but unless I am utterly delusional, I feel as though he's been quite favorable towards me in the past two days. I can't be certain, however."
"Oh, just picture our poor mother's calculations far exceeding what she'd bargained for!"
"Stop it, Jane!" Elizabeth said, her cheeks blooming with crimson. "You are assuming too far in advance. I'm not even sure the 'fine eyes' in his description were mine or…"
"But who else's? If there is a woman to capture the attention of such a refined, sophisticated man, it would be you and no one else."
"I believe you are too biased," Lizzy said with a smile and lightly nudged Jane's side. "The thing is, now that I've practically run out of opportunities to speak to Mr Darcy in private, and I've had more than my fair share of such moments, believe me, I doubt I'd be able to extract his true intentions towards me before we leave Netherfield. I'm not even sure how long he'd be staying with the Bingleys to begin with. As far as I know, he could be leaving for London today! Once we depart from Netherfield, I might never see him again!"
"Dear Lizzy," Jane said, "do you sincerely believe that a man as captivated by a woman as our Mr Darcy would simply leave before he's secured his interest's word? Still, to ease your mind, I have a proposition for you."
"And what would that be?" Lizzy asked, flustered. "You are not going to play a matchmaker, now, are you?"
"No, but I'll be playing a part alright. You say you need more time in Netherfield and we're here chiefly because of my indisposition. I'll simply pretend that I have not made a full recovery just yet. Just fetch me some needlework to distract myself and I'll spend another day in bed."
"I can't tell if you are being angelic or devious…"
"It doesn't need to be all day, mind you. I'm suffocating from being in here too long as we speak, so I might come downstairs for dinner and announce I'm feeling better."
"But how does your little ploy ensure Mr Darcy would reveal his feelings to me today of all days?"
"It doesn't, Lizzy," Jane said conspiratorially, "but it will give you an extra day to appease your suspicions. And perhaps find out more about the other two matters that you confided to me? It is awful of me to be so curious, but I can't even reconcile myself to the idea of Miss Bingley being with child and Mrs Hurst using the dark of the night for a secret meeting with an enemy or a lover. I'm most astonished you've even become privy to such scandals!"
"I agree, it is most disconcerting…"
A knock on the door announced the arrival of a maid, so Jane quickly slipped back under the covers and pulled a blanket up to her chin to hide she was already fully clothed. She winked at her sister and sank into an affected doze so masterfully played, Elizabeth half expected a light snore to escape her lips.
With nothing left to do, Lizzy made her way downstairs where she was promptly shown into the breakfast parlor. Though she kept a tight watch on Mr Darcy throughout the entire course of breakfast, she didn't as much as catch a glimpse of his eyes in her direction. The only thing she came to confirm was the wild flutter of butterfly wings in her stomach at his mere proximity.
The day wore on without anything of significance happening and Elizabeth started to regret ever agreeing to Jane's stratagem. If a quiet morning engaged in embroidery and a dull discourse with Mrs Hurst on the selection of local milliners was the price Jane had to pay for remaining imprisoned in her bedroom, then their mission could be considered a failure.
Elizabeth noted with bitterness that Miss Bingley had essentially glued herself to Mr Darcy. When she looked up from a faulty stitch she'd been disentangling, she saw her companion, Mrs Hurst, regarding something in the distance through the window with a smile. Elizabeth wasn't in the least bit interested in Luisa's fanciful daydreams, but out of courtesy she had to ask. The two hadn't spoken a word to each other for quite some time now.
"Mrs Hurst, do share what is it that you find so amusing. I could rather use a diversion from my worrisome thoughts."
"Oh, I'm just relieved that my sister has finally found a worthy match, that's all."
Alarmed, Elizabeth followed Mrs Hurst's gaze out the window and saw a merrily giggling Caroline Bingley walking arm in arm with a faintly smiling Mr Darcy in the shrubbery. Caroline was twirling her parasol as if she didn't have a care in the world, while Mr Darcy seemed, if not ecstatic to be in her company, then at least not opposed to it.
Suddenly Elizabeth felt so out of place that she had to put in an effort to remain in her seat. It was only now beginning to dawn on her what a blind fool she'd been. She wished she'd never expressed her feelings for Mr Darcy to another human being and that she'd never agreed to stay another minute in Netherfield. She had to pull on all of her strength to ask the next painful question.
"Mr Darcy, you mean?" she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Why, yes, who else?" Mrs Hurst replied with a snort. "It's not my place to discuss the matter outside the family, but I believe we should be hearing some good news any moment now." She was all cryptic smiles.
All Elizabeth could manage was a slight nod. She knew she needed to appear more elated at the news, but couldn't bring herself to even smile.
"I must admit, I was the last one to see the unlikely union, and Caroline hasn't as much as only briefly hinted at it, but the more I look at them together, the more I become aware of just how suitable a couple they would make."
Mrs Hurst's words sounded like a distant buzz in Elizabeth's ears. How could she have failed to see the obvious? The more she thought about it, the more she was able to discern the signs. Caroline's jealousy, Mr Darcy's teasing tone in his exchanges with her, their undoubted familiarity. Why had Elizabeth assumed that she could just walk to Netherfield and change the course of plans that had been in motion long before her appearance?
She was so dejected, she was barely registering Mrs Hurst's incessant chatter.
"What do you say, Miss Eliza?" Luisa asked emphatically as if she was repeating her question.
"You must excuse me, Mrs Hurst," Elizabeth said quickly. "My mind had wandered off to my own hopes of one day finding as suitable a match as your sister has. What was it you were asking?"
"Oh, I was just suggesting we go for a stroll ourselves. Of course, it wouldn't be appropriate to intercept Caroline and Mr Darcy's route at a moment when they clearly wish to be alone, so we should take a different path. What do you say?"
"I'm afraid I've already stalled downstairs too long. I had better return to my sick sister at once, but you should go ahead and join the party outside." Elizabeth glanced at the happy couple one last time before she added bitterly, "We wouldn't want them to be walking on their own, for propriety's sake. Not before the official engagement that is."
"Pray, please," Mrs Hurst whispered, "don't mention what I've shared perhaps rather prematurely. I shouldn't have been so garrulous. After all, such news is best enjoyed when coming at the right moment from the mouths of those involved."
"You have my word," Elizabeth said reassuringly and retreated upstairs with a heavy heart.
She didn't have the courage to face Jane just yet. Remembering their earlier conversation when she'd spoken as excitedly as a future bride, she cringed with humiliation and embarrassment. What would be even worse was facing Mr Darcy in the evening. She now hoped that all of her longing gazes at the breakfast table had gone undetected.
The shame was overwhelming.
She spent the rest of the afternoon sprawled on her bed, face buried into the soft pillow, muttering into the soft pillowcase and banging on the mattress with her fist.
The sudden thought appeared in her head like a lightning strike. The baby. It could be no one else's, but Mr Darcy's. Caroline Bingley had been so eerily calm despite the knowledge of the despicable sin she'd committed because she was already confident in her imminent marriage to Mr Darcy. But then, why would she be consulting Mr Jones for means to end the pregnancy?
Elizabeth realized she'd constructed a conjecture on a few overheard words that was so hopelessly removed from the truth that she now wondered how she'd invented it in the first place. Her mind had gone to a dark place and ascribed vile qualities to Caroline that weren't founded in reality. The far more believable explanation for her private consultation with the apothecary would be a sensitive condition or a pain associated with the pregnancy. After all, how much did Elizabeth know about this delicate womanly condition?
The final stab to Elizabeth's already wounded heart came when she remembered Mr Darcy's letter. Had he not but described the quality of his soon-to-be fiancee's eyes?
Unable to withstand the painful pangs of anguish any longer, Elizabeth burst into bitter tears, the ceaseless convulsions rocking her body and the helpless sobs swallowed by the pillow.