All the Bennets were sitting down for breakfast when the phone rang. "Oh, who could that be, calling this early?" Mrs. Bennet huffed, standing up and stalking towards the phone. The rest of the family started eating, not paying much attention to Mrs. Bennet's dramatics.
"Oh, Caroline! How good of you to call!" Her voice carried, grabbing everyone's attention. Lydia and Catie jumped up, jostling the table in their hurry to crowd around their mother and the phone. Jane shot Lizzie a concerned look but stayed seated, straining to hear at least their mother's side of the conversation.
"Dinner? Well, that sounds wonderful." A pause as Mrs. Bennet listened. "Ah, the men will be out for the evening, I see. Well, I'll let Jane know, I'm sure she will be happy to join y'all." There was a resounding click before Mrs. Bennet and the two youngest girls flounced back into the dining room. "That was Caroline Bingley," she pronounced as she settled back down to eat.
They all waited for her to get to the point, but she relished in their attention. "She has invited Jane over for dinner tonight. Unfortunately, the men will not be there," she frowned a bit, "but I suppose it's still worthwhile."
Jane smiled, not disturbed at the lack of men for dinner. "Can I take the Chevy, Dad?" she asked.
"The Chevy! Lord, no, you should ride your bike! It looks like it's going to storm tonight. Maybe they'll just offer to let you stay," Mrs. Bennet grinned.
Lizzie and Jane stared at their mother incredulously. "Mom!" Jane said, shaking her head.
It didn't faze Mrs. Bennet. "Stop looking at me like that. You'd really want to go to Netherfield and not see Bingley? Of course not. You'll take your bike, and it will all work out."
The oldest girls looked to their father for help. He just shook his head, shrugging. He was a man who had to choose his battles carefully, and this was not one worth winning. Lizzie rolled her eyes and finished eating, glad that Jane at least was pleased with the invitation.
Later that evening, Lizzie looked worriedly at the clouds gathering in the sky as she watched Jane hop on her bike and ride away. It was only a few minutes later that the rain started, and a few more until the thunder rumbled through the house. Summer storms popped up suddenly and could turn dangerous before you knew what was happening.
When the tornado sirens sounded through the town, Mrs. Bennet couldn't hide her grin as she ushered her family into the cellar. "Surely they wouldn't send Jane home in this mess! It looks like it would be safer for her to just stay the night." She clapped her hands in delight as another round of thunder shook the house. Lizzie frowned at her father, wishing he would say something, anything, to his ridiculous wife. He pretended he didn't see her glare and made his way down the cellar stairs.
Jane was soaking wet and shivering by the time she arrived at Netherfield. The sisters were surprised when she rolled up on her bicycle since the sky had been threatening rain for most of the day. "Oh, dear, come inside and let's get you dry," Caroline said, stepping back so Jane didn't drip water on her silk blouse. Louisa went in search of a towel, and within a few minutes, Jane was wrapped up and settled on a stool in the kitchen while Caroline found her something dry to change into.
Dinner was as low-key as it could be with Caroline involved. It felt oddly formal to sit in the large dining room when it was just the three of them, their forks echoing as they ate. "So, let me see if I have this right," Louisa said, sharing a glance with her sister. "Your mother's sister is Mrs. Phillips?"
"Yes," Jane answered, unsure where this line of questioning was heading.
Louisa smiled sweetly, looking a bit like a crocodile. "And they are from… where, exactly?"
There was no doubt what she was getting at, now. "He lives in Meryton. He's an accountant."
Caroline's smile was more like a Cheshire cat. "And I hear your mother's brother lives in Atlanta," Louisa continued.
"Yes, they live on Boulevard," Jane said, suddenly feeling dizzy. Maybe something she had eaten didn't agree with her.
Neither of the sisters noticed how pale Jane had become. "Remind me, what part of the city is Boulevard?" Her tone suggested that she already knew.
Jane didn't hear the question; her ears were ringing, and everything sounded far away. "Excuse me… I just…" She shook her head and dashed from the table, barely making it to the bathroom down the hall before her dinner made a reappearance.
When she stumbled back into the dining room, Caroline and Louisa jumped up to help her sit down. "Louisa, go get some ginger ale. I think Jane is sick," Caroline directed, not appreciating this turn of events. She wasn't the warm and caring type of person.
"I think I'll be fine if I just lay down for a moment," Jane said.
Nodding, Caroline led her into the living room, gesturing towards the couch. "You can rest here until the storm clears," she said, noting the thunder that sounded much closer than before. Jane gratefully took a seat, feeling more lightheaded every moment. The storm sounds were almost comforting as she promptly fell asleep.
The phone lines were thankfully back up in the morning after a brief outage from the storm. Lizzie could hear her mother talking on the kitchen phone all morning. Mrs. Bennet was right; Jane hadn't come home that night, but not for the reason she had planned. Louisa had called early in the morning, letting the Bennets know that Jane was sick; everyone assumed it was the flu, though she insisted she didn't need a doctor.
"I guess if Jane dies from this, at least it was in pursuit of Bingley. That should bring some comfort," Mr. Bennet proclaimed solemnly at breakfast.
Mrs. Bennet shot him a stern look. "Oh, what nonsense. People don't die of colds. They'll take good care of her, I'm sure." She had insisted it was in Jane's best interest to stay at Netherfield, claiming that her illness could be dangerous for Mary, who had a weak immune system. In reality, it was the excuse that was weak, but no one had the energy to call her on it. The rest of the family was busy cleaning up after the storm. Mrs. Bennet intended to encroach on the Bingley's hospitality as long as possible.
The thoughts running around Lizzie's head kept her unusually silent during breakfast. As the family finished eating, she finally spoke. "I think I need to go to Netherfield," she said, her tone leaving little room for argument.
"What? Go to Netherfield? There's no need for that." Mrs. Bennet frowned at the thought. "No, Jane is just fine where she is. And you know there is nothing for you there. You'd be much better off going with your sisters to visit the workers in Meryton."
Lydia's eyes brightened at the mention of the workers. "Yeah, Liz, there are more than enough to go around." She tried to wink at her sister but ended up looking more like she had an eyelash in her eye.
"I know Jane wants me to be there," Lizzie said, standing her ground. It was true, too. Jane was probably an anxious mess all by herself with a group of practical strangers.
Standing up, Mr. Bennet sighed. "I guess that means you'll want the Chevy," he said, indicating in his own way that he thought Lizzie should go as well.
Lizzie smiled at her father. "Oh, no, that's okay. I'd much rather walk. It's only a couple miles to Netherfield, and it's such a beautiful day." The air always seemed cleaner after a storm. She was looking forward to the chance to get out of their crowded house for a while. "I'll be back by dinner."
Her plan earned her another frown from Mrs. Bennet. "I suppose you'll take the shortcut, no doubt. Traipsing through all that mud, you won't be fit to be seen!"
She was right, Lizzie had intended to cut through the cornfield behind their house. "Well, I'll be fit to see Jane, and that's all that matters," Lizzie said, her mind made up.
The corn was almost ready for harvest; walking through the field was always an adventure. Mud pulled at her boots as Lizzie strolled through the rows, relishing in the clean air and privacy of the field. She knew that if she just followed the straight rows of corn, she would end up eventually in the pasture that connected to Netherfield's famous gardens. She'd explored those gardens countless times as a child. It was filled with secret hideaways, mazelike in its intricacy, and open to anyone who wanted to enjoy it.
Before she knew it, she was stepping out of the comforting shade of the corn and into the light of the pasture, the tree line of Netherfield's gardens within sight, just an expanse of flat, green openness. Lizzie felt the sudden urge to run. There was nothing she liked more than running through an open field; it was a thoroughly freeing experience.
She was so caught up in that perfect moment that she didn't notice Darcy as she broke through the trees, bursting into the garden out of breath and wild. He had paused in his walk, hearing the pounding of feet as she drew closer.
"Elizabeth," he said, raising his eyebrows at her sudden appearance.
There was something so ridiculous about his expression that she wanted to laugh. Instead, she bowed dramatically. "Darcy," she said, straightening up. "I've come to check on Jane."
Darcy had not quite regained his composure, still a little dazed from his quiet walk being interrupted by this whirlwind. "Through the field?"
"How else?" She grinned. "It's been a while since I've been in these gardens. Would you mind directing me to the house?" She didn't want to get lost in the maze of hedgerows, never to be seen again. Darcy just nodded, motioning for her to follow him. He said nothing else on the short walk back to the house.
Jane was, of course, thrilled to see her sister, though she insisted that she needn't have come. She looked far sicker than Lizzie had exooected, thinking that their mother was making it out to be more dramatic than necessary. But Jane was truly ill; her face looked tired and pale, and her eyes were dazed. Lizzie decided it was good that she was there. She was the person Jane needed the most when she was sick.
The look on Caroline's face when Lizzie strolled in behind Darcy, that alone made it a worthwhile trip. She wasn't expecting to see Lizzie in the mudroom, struggling with her boots while trying not to sling dirt everywhere. Her bare legs were already splattered with mud from the walk, and there was a leaf caught in her mess of hair.
"Well, she must be an excellent walker, I'll give her that," Louisa said snidely, sitting in the sunroom with her family, drinking a mint julep even though it was only early afternoon. "But lord, didn't she look a little crazed?"
Caroline was sitting next to her sister, reading Southern Living magazine and eyeing Darcy on the other side of the room. "I'm surprised I didn't fall to the floor!" She closed her magazine with purpose. "What's she up to, gallivanting around in the fields just because her sister has the sniffles? And her hair!"
Gossiping was the sisters' favorite pastime, and they were glad to have some fresh material. "Well, what about her legs? I hope you noticed that Charles," she demanded her brother's attention, who had been staring aimlessly out of the window, half listening. "There was mud right up to her knees, at least. And who knows what else." She sniffed daintily as if she could still smell the dirty girl.
"Honestly, I didn't even notice," Bingley said, shrugging. "I thought she looked fine, the fresh air brings out her color."
Frustrated, Caroline changed her tactic. "I'm sure you noticed, Darcy."
Darcy raised his eyes from the book he was reading and regarded Caroline carefully. "Yes, I did."
"And am I wrong to think you wouldn't want your sister to perform such a spectacle?" Caroline asked, arching an eyebrow.
He couldn't help but smile at the thought of his prim and proper little sister roaming through a cornfield alone, not to mention after a rainstorm. "Of course not," he said, making a mental note to get his sister out of doors more often.
Crossing her arms, Caroline sat back, triumphant. "It shows an unfortunate amount of stubbornness and independence, doesn't it?" Louisa nodded in agreement with her sister.
"It shows how much she cares for her sister, which I think is an admirable quality," Bingley said firmly, annoyed with his sisters' need to talk bad about everyone they encountered.
His words were ignored except for a subtle roll of the eyes from Caroline. "I'm afraid, dear Darcy, that this spectacle might damper your appreciation for her so-called fine eyes," Caroline simpered.
Darcy's eyes locked on Caroline's, which were far from being fine themselves. He gave her a small smile. "Oh, not at all. I think they were enhanced by the exercise." He took a sip of sweet tea to hide his smirk at her reaction. Caroline froze for a moment before glancing at her sister, begging her to help redirect the conversation.
"Jane really is a sweet kind of girl. It's a shame to be tethered to such an unfortunate family, so poorly connected." Louisa said, accurately interpreting her sister's eye signals.
It was easy for Caroline to regain her composure and pick up this train of thought. "Her uncle, she told us last night, does construction and lives in Old Fourth Ward," she said, her tone making it clear how she felt about that area.
Louisa smirked. "Maybe we should stop in and say hello next time we are in the city," she said, giggling with her sister at the thought.
"I would like them just as much even if they had enough uncles to fill all of south Atlanta," Bingley pronounced dramatically.
Now it was Darcy's turn to roll his eyes. He shook his head at his best friend's theatrics. "But with such a background, they wouldn't likely fit in or be accepted into the circles we travel. That's the point, Charlie." He hated agreeing with Bingley's sisters on anything, but their words were not without merit.
A gentle cough pulled their attention towards the doorway, where Lizzie stood awkwardly. Bingley jumped to his feet. "Lizzie! Come on in, sit down. How is your sister feeling?" No one had heard her come in. They all wondered how much of the conversation she had heard.
"She still seems very sick, I'm afraid," Lizzie said, clearly worried about her sister.
Bingley was anxious to clear up any residual awkwardness in the room. "I hear the local doctor still makes house calls under special circumstances. I'm sure we could make it worth his while. Here, let me give him a call." He moved towards the doorway, ready to do anything he could to make Jane and Lizzie comfortable.
An arm reached out to stop him. "Oh, no, that's okay," Lizzie blurted. "I'm sure she'll be fine with just a little bit more rest."
"Well, then she needs to stay here until she's feeling better. I know she wouldn't want to risk getting Mary sick. And you should stay as well, as long as y'all need to." Bingley sat back down, more pleased with this plan as he thought it over further.
Lizzie shook her head. "I don't want us to be a bother," she said, noticing Bingley's sisters sharing a loaded look. "We've already intruded enough."
But Bingley was more stubborn than she gave him credit for, and he wouldn't accept no for an answer. "Don't worry about. I'm sure one of your sisters would be happy to drop off some things for you later." And so it was decided; Lizzie would stay, camped out in hostile territory.
"Thank you, Charlie, that's very thoughtful," she said, hoping that Jane's sickness was milder than she thought. Bingley was perhaps the only person in the house that was pleased with this arrangement. For everyone else, it was sure to be a trial.
