Title: Miss Bingley's Herbal Tea

Setting: Regency

Rating: T

Chapters: 12/17 (PIP)

Blurb: Mr Darcy doesn't want to drink Miss Bingley's new disgusting, sketchy, ancient-super-secret-recipe herbal tea. Lizzy does instead.


I would be very happy if you could let me know about any spelling or grammar mistakes :) Thanks and enjoy the chapter!


George Wickham! Darcy could not believe it. What were the chances that they would both find themselves in the same God-forgotten piece of England? Or maybe it was someone else by the same name… No, it had to be him.

George Wickham! Darcy rode his horse up Oakham Mount and dismounted, aware that he had to calm himself before going back to Netherfield.

He tossed his hat to the ground and started to pace, cursing under his breath.

What am I to do? If it really is Wickham, what am I to do? Should he prevent his joining the militia? How? He would not give him another penny. Wickham had already received a generous bribe for Ramsgate— And he must have already spent all the money if he is willing to become a soldier.

Darcy himself would not leave: he was not going to bend to Wickham again. If Wickham knew what was best for him, hewould avoid his society.

His thoughts went to Georgiana. He could still see the innocence leave her eyes as he explained to her what Wickham had truly been after in Ramsgate. Darcy took a deep breath. Georgiana was safe, her reputation protected. She was staying with their Aunt Matlock, where Wickham would not be able to touch her.

But what to do with Wickham? His temper flared again. He couldn't think now. Every decision he took would be made out of anger. He would deal with Wickham later.

Darcy took out his watch. He needed to go back to Netherfield. If he left now, he could have some time to try and speak to Elizabeth before everyone went to change for dinner. Hopefully, Mrs Bennet would let her go downstairs for it.


Elizabeth was very proud of her cunningness.

She had stayed put in her room for the whole afternoon to get her mother off her back. In the meantime, Jane and a chatty maid had given her all the information she would need for her little rescue expedition. She was now wholly rested and was only waiting for everyone to go to dinner before putting in motion her new plan.

Something that worried her, but had also left her relieved, was Mr Darcy's absence. She had expected him to come after her and do some brooding after having been dismissed so rudely that afternoon, but maybe he did not care about her or Jane or the whole herbal tea matter after all and had been relieved of being released from his promises. Regardless, it was better that way: without his interference, she would finally be able to put an end to the matter once and for all.

Elizabeth heard the gong announcing dinner. She hoped Mr Darcy would have the presence of mind to not come to her now, as Jane and her mother would surely visit her before going downstairs.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Mrs Bennet and Jane made their entrance. Mr Darcy had not come, after all, and Elizabeth felt the unexpected sting of disappointment.

Her mother minutely inquired after how Elizabeth felt and how much she had drunk of the special infusion that Mrs Bennet had sent from Longbourn. The infusion was a cure-all whose recipe had been handed down through the family for generations. It was used for everything, from colds to broken bones to heartbreaks. The Bennet sisters had guzzled pints of it over the years without complaint. Nonetheless, seeing her recent misadventures with beverages, Elizabeth had preferred to hide some of the dried leaves in a handkerchief and lie shamelessly to her mother.

Mrs Bennet, not suspecting the deception in the least, was delighted in seeing that Elizabeth had already drunk several teapots and recommended that she brew another one before going to sleep.

After that, Jane and Mrs Bennet told Elizabeth of their own afternoon. Mrs Bennet concluded with: "Oh, that Mr Bingley. That scoundrel! If it wasn't for him we would all be at Longbourn, happy and well. Do not cry, Jane, he is not worth it. We will find you another suitor and one who will be a better husband. It matters nothing to have five thousand a year to only die of a trifling cold or get abducted by highwaymen after fainting on the grounds!"

Jane and Elizabeth assured their mother that neither of them had ever been in such dangers, but Mrs Bennet would not be persuaded.

"Mr Darcy, instead! He has been the perfect gentleman. Why, I am sure that nothing of this would have happened in that Pemberley of his!"

Elizabeth stiffened and her hands became cold, while Jane shot her a worried look. Was her mother going to scheme for a marriage between her and Mr Darcy?

"If only he was not such a dark, brooding fellow, I should have liked to have one of my daughters settled with him. But he is too reserved, too standoffish. How can he keep that perpetual frown on his face, I wonder?" Elizabeth took a sigh of relief but her mother kept speaking. "And his character is so unfeeling—"

"He is not unfeeling!"

Mrs Bennet, Jane and Elizabeth herself were astonished at her speaking up.

"Lizzy. Whatever do you mean?" Mrs Bennet asked.

Elizabeth didn't know herself. Why had she felt the need to defend him? Under her mother and her sister's scrutiny, Elizabeth struggled to find the words to justify her statement. "I mean nothing, mama. Only that he is less unfeeling than he appears at first. He… He truly loves his sister."

Mrs Bennet seemed to accept the explanation. She blinked rapidly. "He has a sister? I didn't know."

"Yes, he was writing a letter to her one evening. She is called Georgia or Georgiana, I think."

"Uhm. I will make sure to inquire after her, then. He must think me incredibly uncivil for not doing so yet. Has he any other living family? His parents?"

"I don't know…"

Mrs Bennet hummed in agreement, lost in her thoughts. At that moment, someone knocked at the door: it was a maid, come to bring Elizabeth's dinner.

"Oh, we will be late for dinner" — come, Jane — Elizabeth, call for us if you need anything, we are only downstairs."

"I will come in a moment, mama." Said Jane.

Mrs Bennet left the two sisters alone in the room. Elizabeth started to eat with gusto as Jane looked at her curiously.

"Lizzy, are you really determined to go?"

"Yes, Jane, I am. Do not worry for me, I have studied the plan in the most minute details."

It was a relatively simple plan. Jane had discovered that Miss Bingley kept the herbal tea in a separate tea caddy in her room. While Jane made sure that everyone, both guests and servants, stayed downstairs during dinner, Elizabeth would sneak unnoticed in Miss Bingley's room and steal the tea caddy. It wasn't as elegant a solution as substituting the tea leaves, but it would do since they didn't have the tea caddy's keys.

"But won't Miss Bingley know it was you to steal the tea? You'll be the only one absent from dinner."

"It's a risk that I must take. And even if she does, what could she do about it?"

"She could blame her lady in wait or another servant." Jane shook her head. "This is too risky, Lizzy. Oh, but I can not understand why you do it. Could not Mr Darcy simply leave Netherfield? We will leave soon as well and it will be as if nothing had ever happened at all."

Elizabeth hesitated. Why exactly was she doing it, again? "I can not, in all honesty, leave Miss Bingley unchecked after all of this. If not Mr Darcy, she will find some other young, rich man to trick into marriage. And then Miss Bingley too will pass the tea to some friend of her and suddenly London will be full of swooning. Sooner or later male fortune hunters will realize what's happening and start using it too." She had been thinking about what that would bring on for the whole afternoon. Young heiresses getting targeted as Mr Darcy had been, but much less able to defend themselves and with direr consequences on their future. She shuddered at the thought. "It cannot stand. We need to intervene as we can. If only to prevent mama's shock at suddenly discovering that all the eligible bachelors are on suddenly out of the marriage mart. Of course, she will already have Mr Bingley as a son-in-law by that point, but—"

"Lizzy!"

"I speak the truth. No matter what mama says now if Mr Bingley shows repentance enough and serves her another serving of that fish with melted butter, she will once again consider him the most wonderful fellow to ever have ventured into Hertfordshire in three days at lost."

"Oh, Lizzie. You make me laugh, even in these desperate times. But— But if all you say was to happen…" That was the most enthusiastic and optimistic speech about Bingley her sister had ever proffered and Elizabeth was going to congratulate her on it, but Jane continued: "…Then would you like to have such a man as a brother?"

"Such a man, Jane? I don't understand what you mean."

"Do you not consider him responsible for all that has happened to you, as mama does?"

"No, of course not! He can hardly control Miss Bingley's actions. And I am glad that he does not, as it speaks well of how he will behave as a husband, or at least I hope so. But, Jane, when you do marry him — because you will marry him, I am certain of it — will you like to have Miss Bingley, as a sister?"

"We can not know for certain if she intentionally served the herbal tea. She could have done it all without knowing."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in a look that expressed exactly what she thought of that.

"Oh, I do not know." Said Jane at last. "How will you ever confront her again?"

"With great sport. It is a very laughable matter when one thinks about it, and knowing that she will never know what her schemes have really brought about diverts me exceedingly."

Jane smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Then I think that I would be able to have her as a sister. But even if that comes to nothing, the intimacy which existed between us can not continue. Oh no, I could not confide in her anymore."

"Good. And now that we have cleared the Bingleys of every sin, what do you think of the Hursts? Has Mr Hurst asked you yet if you prefer a ragout over a simple dish and if yes, what did you say back?"

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. A maid had been sent by Mrs Bennet to take away Elizabeth's tray and remind Jane that she needed to go down for dinner.

"Remember," Elizabeth reminded Jane, "no one can leave that table until dinner ends. And don't worry about me. I will come back victorious."

And Jane left Elizabeth alone.


Mr Darcy, now clean and dressed, was determined to speak to Elizabeth about the tea. He walked to her room — perhaps he would even get her permission to escort her to dinner?

Just as he was gathering his courage to knock, the door opened and Miss Jane Bennet appeared.

"Mr Darcy."

"Miss Bennet! I trust your sister is better?"

"Yes, much better." She took care to close the door behind her and smiled at the man. "Were you looking for her?"

"Absolutely not." He blurted out. "That is to say— Will we have the pleasure of her company at dinner?"

"Unfortunately, my mother finds her to be still too weak to join us."

She was not going to be at dinner? Darcy's heart fluttered in disappointment. Perhaps he could excuse himself too and go meet her while everyone was eating? He tried to cough like one who has a cold. "To tell the truth, I don't feel too well either. Perhaps I should stay—"

Seeing through his scheme, Jane hurried to interrupt him. "Mr Darcy. May I speak with you for a moment?"

She gestured towards a nook near a window and he followed her there. Jane looked around, checking that no one could hear them, and then whispered: "Lizzy told me everything."

"Miss Bennet, I do not understand what you are talking about—"

"Everything." She repeated.

Mr Darcy hesitated. "Everything?"

Jane nodded. "And she is going to act this evening since we are leaving Netherfield in the morning. You need not worry about the matter anymore."

What was Elizabeth planning now? She intended to act on her own? "Did she— Ask you to tell me?"

"No, she does not think that— That is, I thought that you should know, being one of the parties involved."

It was not what Mr Darcy had hoped to hear. He clenched his jaw. "Miss Bennet. If there's any way I can be of assistance to your sister—"

"I fear, Mr Darcy, that the only way we can help Elizabeth tonight is by making sure that everyone enjoys their dinner downstairs." She closed her eyes and sighed. "My sister is… Very certain in her own opinions. She has a quick wit but it's very difficult for her to admit when she is wrong. She does, eventually, but in her own time. It's no use trying to persuade her." She smiled apologetically. "I would wait until the morning to speak with her. A night alone with her thoughts may make her more receptive to whatever you wish to talk with her about."

Darcy pursed his lips and nodded curtly. As much as he wanted to see Elizabeth now, Miss Bennet probably knew her sister's state of mind better than him. The last thing he wanted was to ruin everything — again — by acting too quickly.

But Jane had not finished talking.

"And since we are already here—" She hesitated again. "I would like to thank you, Mr Darcy, for not taking advantage of Lizzy when you found her." She averted her eyes. "Or at least, not too much."

Jane blushed. Mr Darcy blushed. He cleared his throat. "It was nothing. I mean— Miss Bennet, would you allow me the honour of escorting you to dinner?"

Jane timidly took his extended arm and they made their way to the dining room, both of them too embarrassed to look at each other.


After Jane left, Elizabeth waited patiently for the clock to strike the half an hour: only then she would set her plan into motion.

Once the time finally came, she went to enter the servants' passages through her dressing room. Thankfully the door there was never locked. That would be the least conspicuous way to arrive at Miss Bingley's room.

She held a candle in one hand, while the other went to pat her pocket, where she had put a short note. It contained, in disguised handwriting, a threat to expose Miss Bingley's plans of compromise in case she ever tried to find the thief. Elizabeth would leave it in place of the tea caddy, to avoid Miss Bingley trying to pin the theft on an innocent servant. Everything is prepared, she thought with satisfaction.

But then she shuddered. Walking through the cold, dark corridors, she felt like the protagonist of a Gothic novel. Would the ghost of a forefather appear? Would she find a veil or a casket or a corpse hidden in a wall? Elizabeth reminded herself firmly that she and Jane had spent whole summers exploring those same passages as children, playing with the daughters of the family that had been occupying Netherfield at the time. They had never even come across a mouse. There was nothing to fear.

Nonetheless, she quickened her pace a little. To distract herself, Elizabeth started to wonder: how was dinner going downstairs?


Mr Darcy anticipated the dinner to be a complete disaster. Entering the dining room with Miss Bennet on his arm had caused quite the sensation: Miss Bingley paled, Mrs Bennet's eyes shone with renewed calculations — which Darcy could have appreciated if only they had been addressed towards a different Bennet sister — and Bingley's expression resembled most closely that of a kicked puppy.

After sending Darcy a hurt glance, Bingley had rushed to make sure that Miss Bennet would sit next to him, striking up a conversation with both her and her mother about the ball he was planning. It was the wrong subject to bring up, as Mrs Bennet started to lecture him on the dangers of holding a social function so soon after such catastrophic food contamination.

As the valets started to serve dinner, Miss Bingley leaned towards Darcy, who was sitting next to her: "Charles tells me that you visited Meryton, Mr Darcy."

"Indeed."

"I trust your business there went well?"

"It did, I thank you."

Piqued at her inability to attract his attention further, Miss Bingley decided to provoke him in a more subtle way. "Mrs Bennet," she interrupted the woman's tirade against Mr Bingley on the other side of the table. "Won't Miss Elizabeth join us tonight? I trust she is better?"

"Indeed, she is more herself by the hour. But we couldn't risk her coming down for dinner. I consider my daughters' health a very serious matter."

Bingley cowered under her disapproving gaze.

"Oh, that is such a pity. I had hoped to have a last chat with her before you leave in the morning but, alas, it is not to be. We enjoyed some good debates with Miss Elizabeth, didn't we, Mr Darcy? She has such interesting opinions."

"Caroline." Mrs Hurst hissed.

Some unspoken communication passed between the two sisters but Darcy was not able to follow it because Mrs Bennet was now addressing him.

"Oh, Mr Darcy! I am very sorry if my Lizzy has offended you in any way. We let her run her mouth at home and I fear that sometimes she forgets to check herself when with company. And after all you have done for our family! I offer you my sincerest apologies. Oh, that girl!"

"Miss Elizabeth was nothing but the image of propriety during her stay, madam. You must not worry on her behalf."

"Well, I'm glad." Mrs Bennet made to take a sip of her wine but stopped in the mid of the motion. "Oh! How is your sister, Mr Darcy, if I may enquire? My Lizzy told me you are very close."

That surprised him. "She is quite well, I thank you."

Mrs Bennet nodded emphatically. "Yes, yes. And how old is she, if I may ask?"

"She will be sixteen in a few months."

"Like my Lydia! She will be sixteen in June." Mr Darcy didn't appreciate the comparison but kept his expression blank. "Oh, my girls grew up so quickly. I can barely remember…"

As Mrs Bennet kept talking about her daughters' happy childhood without any need for contribution on the part of Mr Darcy, he found himself drifting away to his own thoughts and preoccupations.

Elizabeth had mentioned Georgiana to her mother. How had that come to be a topic of conversation between the two? It seemed peculiar for Elizabeth to see her mother after almost a week's separation and to immediately start talking about the sister of a man she loathed. Unless… No, he would not raise his hopes on such a fickle piece of information. He had more important things to worry about: Miss Bennet's cryptic words, Wickham's appearance and what to say to Elizabeth once he would finally be able to meet her.

On the other side of the table, Charles and Miss Bennet appeared to be in close conversation. He soon noticed that while his friend was all attentiveness and Miss Bennet's manners were open, cheerful and engaging as ever, she didn't seem to show any of the signs of peculiar regard. He frowned. Was it possible that Charles was mistaken regarding Miss Bennet's feelings?

Mrs Bennet had gone on to prattle about her youngest daughters, Lydia and Kitty, and how the officers had been showering them with attentions.

He realised with a start that Mrs Bennet boasting about it. She was pleased that her daughters were only able to attract soldiers that did not have the financial means to marry them. He considered this irrational and possibly harmful. How could Mrs Bennet not see this? Or Mr Bennet? The two girls were already making a reputation of flirts for themselves. He wouldn't be surprised if one or both ended up at the centre of a scandal and ruin their lives because her parents had been inattentive.

Darcy froze: it was exactly what had almost happened to Georgiana.

And now Wickham was in Meryton.

He had not thought of Elizabeth's sake nor of her sisters' while considering what to do with Wickham. He had only reminded himself of his own discomfort in seeing him again and of Georgiana, who was miles and miles away. He suddenly remembered one of Elizabeth's remarks to him: your selfish disdain for the feelings of others—

He and Georgiana were not the ones in danger of becoming victims to Wickham. The whole neighbourhood was to be his prey: unpaid debts in all the shops, young women compromised… He thought of Elizabeth's sisters, so young and naive, who already revelled in the officers' attentions. What would happen if Wickham unleashed his charm on them?

Unless he did something.

But what? He refused to pay Wickham to leave, and even if he did, that would only be a temporary solution. The man would be a danger wherever he went, to another neighbourhood, in London, or God forbid, at Pemberley.

He should have allowed Richard to shoot him when they could.

The only solution, for now, was to talk to Colonel Forster and explain the situation but Darcy couldn't do that. He would have to explain everything to a perfect stranger. Everything. Well, he would leave Georgiana's name out of it, but— he would have to publicly expose the dealings of the Darcy family all the same. His pride rebelled against that.

You can not pretend to be a gentleman only when it suits you. Elizabeth's words passed through him like a curse.

If he let a rake unchecked and let history repeat itself, was he even better than Wickham?

"Are you talking about herbal tea?"

Darcy was suddenly forced back into the dining room by Mrs Bennet's voice. The woman was addressing Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley, who had until that moment been engaged in a hushed conversation.

Mrs Hurst pressed her lips together and then bent them in a pleasant smile. "That is correct, yes."

Were they talking about the herbal tea? Darcy sent a look towards Miss Bennet, who suddenly looked a little tense.

"I love herbal tea. Are we going to have some later?" Continued Mrs Bennet.

"No, we were simply talking about our supply of herbal tea. Caroline recently ordered a blend from a new shop in London."

"Oh! Perhaps that is what caused Elizabeth's illness, then."

A bone-chilling tension pervaded the room. Miss Bingley became as white as a sheet. Darcy was terrified, the only sound in his ears was the pumping of blood. It was so loud that he almost couldn't hear Mrs Hurst speak.

Mrs Bennet had to have genius intuition now? Now?

"Whatever do you mean, Mrs Bennet?" Asked Mrs Hurst wearing a tight smile.

"Well, I dabble in herbal tea production myself, in Longbourn's still room, and I can assure you that getting wrong even the tiniest phase of the process can have disastrous effects. Oh, I don't understand why you decided to wait until that doctor's arrival to inspect the pantry."

"The doctor was meant to arrive this morning," Mr Bingley said helpfully, "but he sent a note saying that the roads were too damaged to travel by carriage after yesterday's outpour—"

"Yes, yes, yes. But why call a London physician in the first place? I'm sure Mrs Nicholls could have dealt with the matter in under ten minutes."

Bingley reddened. "It was Darcy's idea—"

"Oh!" She turned toward Mr Darcy. "Since that was your idea, Mr Darcy, then I trust your judgement. But come to think of it, since the doctor is late, there is nothing wrong with a little preliminary inspection, don't you think?"

The room sank into bone-chilling silence for the second time that evening. Darcy took a long swig of wine while Miss Bingley panicked.

"My dear Mrs Bennet," she smiled conciliatorily, "neither Miss Elizabeth nor any of the servants drank the tea yesterday. I'm sure it must have been something else."

"But that is not how contamination works, Miss Bingley! If the leaves were not in optimal condition — and Heaven only knows what those fashionable new shops in London use in their blends — then the whole pantry would have been lost. And if we don't act quickly, your new provisions could be ruined too. Yes, it's very important. Mr Bingley? What about a little adventure in the pantry? We could all go after dinner."

"It's an excellent idea, Mrs Bennet. I'm sure that your thirty years of experience in managing a household—"

Mrs Bennet became red. "Pardon? Thirty years?! How old do you think I am, Mr Bingley?"

Mr Darcy silently rolled his eyes.

"I— I mean, of course, I was also considering the time when you helped your mother before being married, being the oldest daughter…

"My sister Philips is the oldest!"

"Mama, I'm sure that Mr Bingley didn't mean to—"

"Did not mean to? Just how old do you think I am, Mr Bingley? I insist!"

"W-Well… I believe–" Mr Bingley started to answer, but abruptly stopped at seeing Darcy frantically but inconspicuously shaking his head no. "A tour of the pantry! A tour of the pantry as Mrs Bennet requested! Who would like to come with us? After dinner?" He looked hopeful towards Mrs Bennet, but the woman was still seething. "Or— Or we could see the tea now, yes, that's a better idea. Mr Davies. Please ask Mrs Nicholls to bring the tea leaves to us."

"But the tea leaves are not stored in the pantry, Mr Bingley. We catalogued everything in there this morning and there was no tea." Answered the butler.

"Caroline? Did you know about this?"

"Uh, I mean… Charles, I can assure you that the herbal tea is not the problem." Was that sweat that Darcy spied on her temple? "Really, Mrs Bennet, there is no need to look at me like that. The leaves are stored in my chambers now and there is no way—"

"I do not care, Caroline, go to your room and bring us the tea." Bingley snapped.

"No!" Exclaimed Jane, shocking everyone at the table. "Uhm, I mean. We can look at it after dinner."

"Why should I show you the leaves at any time?" Argued Miss Bingley, growing panicked by the minute. "It's my tea, I bought it with my own pin money."

At that, Mr Hurst rolled his eyes and guffawed while he was taking a rather large sip of wine, ending up choking on it.

Everyone ran to assist him, offering water and handkerchiefs.

"Charles, Caroline. There is no need to raise your voices." Mrs Hurst said while vigorously patting her husband on the back. "The tea is not in Caroline's room, it is in mine," (both Miss Bingley and Jane gasped loudly at the information) "and I will bring it downstairs for Mrs Bennet to inspect immediately."


To her infinite disappointment, Elizabeth ultimately did not meet any ghosts or veils as she made her way to Miss Bingley's room.

Just as Jane had said, the servant's entrance to her dressing room wasn't locked. She went through the room quickly, eager to get to the lady's bed-chamber.

She only had time to glance at the mantlepiece when she was suddenly knocked down by an enormous, drooling mass.

"Help!" Elizabeth exclaimed, struggling to get the mass off of her. She now recognized it as the friendly Great Dane that she had met in Netherfield's fields some days before. She hadn't known that he belonged to Miss Bingley. What if the dog was there to guard the tea? Elizabeth had to laugh at herself. What guard dog tackled the intruder to the floor and then proceeded to lick and drool all over their faces? But then what was the dog there—

A dreadful suspicion came to her attention.

Elizabeth finally managed to subdue the beast by rubbing his belly and quickly scanned the room. She saw boots at the end of the bed, breeches thrown on the chaise, books about Latin and accounting on the desk.

With horror, Elizabeth realized that her memory of the servants' passages' intricacies might have been foggier than she had thought. She was in Mr Bingley's room!

But she didn't have time to panic. To be found there would mean compromise, to go back to her room without the tea was inconceivable. She needed to act quickly. She needed to go back to the passages and try other doors. If this was Mr Bingley's room, her sister's must have been close by.

Yes, that was a sound plan. It could have been worse. She could have ended up in Mr Darcy's— Better not think of that.

She looked at the dog, pliant under her fingers, and thanked heavens that at least he had not started to bark at her. As soon as she thought that, the dog freed himself and ran to bark and growl at a door.

"Shhh, come back here! You will get me in trouble!" She grabbed his collar trying to get him away from there.

"Lizzy?" She heard someone calling from the other side of the door over all the barking. "Are you in there?"

"Jane! Yes! I'm here!"

"Is that a dog? Lizzy, what is happening?"

The dog was still barking. Exasperated, Elizabeth grabbed a hairbrush from the bedside table and threw it across the room. The dane ran to catch it.

With the dog now distracted, Elizabeth tried to open Jane's door but it was locked.

"Jane, in Mr Bingley's room. Where are you? Why are you not at dinner?"

"I am in Miss Bingley's room. The tea caddy— Ah, we can not keep shouting through a door." Jane tried to open it from her side to no avail. "This must be a connecting door. Try the main one, we'll meet in the hallway."

The dog had come back holding the brush in his mouth. Elizabeth grimaced at the object, now covered in drool, but she supposed that Bingley was used to that kind of accident since he kept his dog in his room. She threw the brush again and then ran to the main door.

Elizabeth took Jane by an arm and started to lead her down the corridor. "Let's go before the dog finds a way to open the door."

"Why? Is he dangerous?"

"No, only very affectionate. I know that you prefer cats, Jane, but you'd better get used to barking and drooling." Jane blushed.

"What were you doing in Mr Bingley's room?" Jane asked.

"I didn't know it would be his room until I was in it! Why are Mr and Miss Bingley living in connected rooms, that's the question." She shivered. "What were you saying about the tea caddy?"

"It's not here, it's in Mrs Hurst's room. I think that Mrs Hurst took it away from Miss Bingley without telling her sister."

So the whole endeavour had been in vain! "How did you even find out about this? And how did you manage to get back upstairs?"

"Oh, I just blurted out something. Perhaps that I had forgotten my shawl?. Mama started to talk about how she wanted to see the tea leaves because they could be the reason you got sick yesterday, which as we know…"

"Yes, yes, we all know that's exactly what happened." Of all the occasions, her mother had to find her wit then?!

"Lizzy, this is not the way back to our rooms. Where are we going?"

"To look for Mrs Hurst's room."

"But Mrs Hurst's room is right beside Miss Bingley's."

Lizzy came to an abrupt stop. "What? Why didn't you tell me before?" She started to run in the opposite direction.

"Because I didn't know where we were going!"

Once they arrived back in the family hallway, Jane pointed towards a particular door. Elizabeth sprinted there but just as she was reaching for the door's handle, she was tackled by a dog for the second time in one evening.

"How in the Lord's name did he manage to escape?!"

"We opened the door for him."

Elizabeth felt someone behind her helping her back to her feet.

"Are you alright?" Mr Darcy whispered in her ear, slightly tightening his hold on her arms.

Elizabeth turned to face him with a tirade on her tongue but was stopped in her tracks by the deep, soulful, worried gaze in Mr Darcy's eyes. She became suddenly aware of the warmth of his chest pressed against her arm, and more importantly that her face and hair were covered in spiderwebs and— and dog drool!

To make matters even worse, Mr Bingley chose that moment to exit Mrs Hurst's room sporting the tea caddy under his arm.

He ran to Jane, who was struggling to calm the dog down.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Bennet! I don't know what came over her."

"Her?" Asked Jane, distracted by how Mr Bingley had given her the tea caddy to take the dog by the collar.

All eyes in the hallway but for Mr Bingley's were focused on that tea caddy.

Bingley gestured towards the dog. "Izzy, it's a she. She is much more well-behaved usually, I don't know what happened this evening to make her so excited. She was barking when I arrived so I let her out of the room to try and have her calm down. If you will give me a moment…" He appeared very embarrassed and started to walk toward his door.

Elizabeth smiled sweetly. "It is no problem, Mr Bingley, Jane absolutely adores dogs." Then, while Mr Bingley had his back turned, she mouthed to Jane: Throw it on the floor!

What?!

Throw it on the floor! She gesticulated to explain that the tea caddy would then break and tea leaves would fall on the floor and be unusable.

Jane looked at her like she had lost her mind.

"Miss Elizabeth!"
Elizabeth froze and turned toward Bingley, who was back sans dog. Their chance has passed.

"Is anything wrong? I thought that you were meant to rest in your room this evening?"

"Me? Jane and I were taking a walk through the house. Walking strengthens one's physique. Indeed, we should get back to it. Excuse us."

"Ah, Miss Bennet, one moment! Before you go…" Mr Bingley gestured for the tea caddy. "Thank you for holding it."

"It was nothing…"

Elizabeth snorted at the blushing couple, full of frustration. Nothing is going my way! "Mr Bingley, can I ask you why you are not at dinner?"

It was Mr Darcy to answer. "We came to take my sister's tea. Your mother insists that we keep it in the stillroom with all the other food to be inspected tomorrow."

He was still behind her and much closer than she had realized. She felt warm and embarrassed all over again.

"Well, then… I bid you goodnight." She answered hurriedly and then marched away, full of frustration as both Jane and Mr Darcy called for her.

"I should go with her…" Murmured Jane before following her sister.

"Goodnight!" Mr Bingley called after her. "And we should bring this to the stillroom, Darcy. Darcy?"

"I will be there in a moment, Bingley." He followed on Miss Bennet's step and once they were far enough from Bingley, called for her.

She didn't stop walking rapidly but acknowledged his presence. "What is it, Mr Darcy?"

"Miss Bennet, I don't understand what is going on."

"You are in no better position than myself."

"Why did you leave the dining room so abruptly?"

She breathed deeply. "To fetch my shawl."

"What was Elizabeth doing in the family hallway?"

Jane's eyes flashed with anger. "My sister did not give you leave to—"

"Miss Bennet, is there anything I can do?"

"I have no idea!" Jane stopped and sighed, frustrated. "Sometimes loving Lizzy, it is hard."

"Believe me, Miss Bennet, I know." Darcy said darkly without realizing.

Again, they were both too embarrassed to look at each other.

Jane rubbed her temples. "Knowing her, she will try something again tonight. I will try to discover more and tell you. Wait for me in the library after dinner."

He felt relief wash over him. "Thank you. But why are you helping me?"

She snorted bitterly. "Because she needs help and I'm not brave enough to follow her in whatever plan she is contriving this time. And you need to sort out your feelings for her or leave!" She widened her eyes, horrified at what she had just said. "Oh, I didn't mean to say that! Please, excuse me from the rest of the company, I will stay with Elizabeth. Oh, this is such a mess. Elizabeth!" Exclaimed Jane.

Her sister was on the edge of the great staircase, gripping the balustrade for dear life looking downstairs with terror in her eyes. They ran by her side.

"Mr Darcy, here you are."

Mr Darcy turned his attention from Elizabeth to the lower floor, where a distinct old gentleman was being helped by a footman in removing his coat. Darcy suddenly realized the reason behind Elizabeth's shock. He strengthened his nerves and descended the stairs to meet the new arrival.

"Doctor Easton… Welcome to Netherfield."


Author's note

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT. No chapter next week as I have a German Literature exam and all my brain power must go towards it as I speak 0 German + this was the last chapter more or less "prêt a poster" (haha). Let's say that what you've read till now is Draft 5 while the next chapters are still stuck at Draft 3. So they need a lot of work and as I've already said, German, brain power, bla bla bla. So if I'm late with future chapters (after skipping next week) that's the reason.

And now onto more meta things. Hopefully, it's all in my head, but I feel like the pace of this chapter is a bit off and the humour too (it's certainly more chaotic than usual). A possible reason for that is that everything that happened in this chapter was not part of the original outline. I had to invent the whole thing from scratch while writing Draft 3 and make it fit in the middle of the story I had already written. So I suppose my writing sensibility (?) evolved (?) in the year and a half between outline and Draft 3. Also why I was wondering whether I should split this chapter in half or what. I'm still not really sure what to do with it. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that if I did my job right this chapter should look to you as a small part of the great, perfectly planned scheme of things but to me, it's a weird mushroom that sprouted out of nowhere.

See you in 2 weeks. Sorry for the cliffhanger.