A/N: Poor green has been suffering some serious neglect. It was always going to be the 'short' version, for obvious reasons but I didn't have a good place to break Red. That means we need to rewind 5 years, 17 chapters or 60,000 words to the start of Darcy's bout with Typhus. I really hope you guys go easy on my poor beleaguered nurses this time, since they did nothing wrong except save our lunkhead's life.

When we left off, it was Feb 1, 5 weeks after the wedding, and Darcy's fever had taken off for the first time. The Green thread is in chapters 33, 35, 38, 39 & 42.

Darcy had already made Elizabeth his heir (easily done and perfectly legal), reworked their marriage settlement (assume some trickery – difficult to do legally but roll with it), and put her in charge of the estate (not even difficult – think Lady Catherine).

Elizabeth met Georgiana but maintained social distancing (yes, it was a thing then, but not well known), and is corresponding. Elizabeth and her doctor have a rather modern outlook on disease – or do they? Quarantine, social distancing, and early versions of the Germ Theory of disease were known as early as 600BC, and well codified in many parts of the world by the first century. Unfortunately, Western Europe was in a bit of an irrational retrograde silly phase in the early 19th century (like half of the US is today), so while Elizabeth's physician's viewpoint was not over the top then, her physician would have been in the minority among English physicians.

When we left, Darcy's fever had just spiked. He is being nursed by Elizabeth and Mrs. Weston (name borrowed from the obvious place), and, let's see –

Wade

P.S. Had a birthday last week. I turned 62.


GREEN

"Mrs. Darcy, may I make a suggestion?"

Elizabeth Darcy looked up from the ledger she had been perusing, to welcome Mr. Longman, the longtime stablemaster for all the Darcy stables. The man had appeared within the week after her wedding, arriving with her 'lady's maid', Molly, and another footman, Noah Hervey.

The footman Noah, as far as Elizabeth could determine, had exchanged places with an outrider, who supposedly wanted to stay in Derbyshire near his family. Elizabeth suspected the young footman was more interested in staying close to Molly than visiting London, but since she of all people would never engage in matchmaking, she simply ignored his looks. She did however keep the man around, reasoning that with the number of baths and laundry they were engaging in to make sure Typhus did not spread, a few extra hands would never hurt. Besides that, what was the point of going to the expense of sending him back to Pemberley when nobody was in residence anyway?

Mr. Longman had been stablemaster for the Darcys since a fortnight before the dawn of time, apparently. He claimed to be almost entirely an outdoor man, but when Mr. Darcy became ill, he insisted on working with Bates, Darcy's valet, to do whatever required men in the care of her husband. Elizabeth and Mrs. Warren were the primary nurses, but there was quite a lot of lifting, shuffling, dressing, and undressing required on the patient. The men insisted that was 'man's work', and the women tended to agree. It also turned out that a man could sit beside a sleeping patient and make sure they did not wake up just as well as a woman could, so the care for the master of the house fell somewhat evenly between the four of them.

Elizabeth's husband had become completely insensible within days of when the fever started rising on the first of February. The typical Typhus rash had appeared days later, and after a fortnight, Darcy was still insensible, highly feverish and covered neck to toes in the rash, although Elizabeth had to take the doctor's word for the latter, since she had still never seen her husband unclothed.

Elizabeth had spoken to Longman a few times, but not extensively, so she was curious about what he would want, so she answered. "Of course, Mr. Longman. Have a seat, please?"

Having offered the position, she got up to move with him to a couple of chairs beside the fire. The middle of February was quite cold, but Elizabeth was never really allowed to complain since nobody would allow a fire to die down in Darcy House if they could help it.

Longman nodded, and sat down, while Elizabeth rang a bell for tea.

The stablemaster said, "Before he became ill, your husband suggested a duty for me if he remained sick for a fortnight. That time has passed, so I would like to follow the direction."

"All right, Mr. Longman, I will bite. Be careful how you set the hook, though."

With a smile, he said, "I would like to suggest we go riding, ma'am. Darcy says you have at least some skill in the practice, and I think an hour or two outside of the confines of the house every day or two would do you good. I will of course accompany you, along with another groom. That way, I can see if we need to offer any training or adjustments."

"Do you think that, or are you parroting my husband," she asked in genuine curiosity, not overly enthusiastic about the idea of riding, but not opposed either.

"Both," said he, but was then interrupted by Molly entering with tea, which arrived suspiciously quickly. Elizabeth had no idea if that was happenstance, Molly just kept some tea boiling all the time just in case, or the more likely explanation: Longman had asked her to have it ready. Once the tea was prepared, Longman asked, "Did your husband tell you about his father's last days?"

"No, we did not get to that. Why do you ask?"

"It seems relevant," Longman said, then took a sip of tea and a bit of a biscuit, before continuing.

"When your husband was about your age, he had just finished Cambridge. It was the time that young gentlemen usually go on a grand tour, but within a month of his graduation, Mr. Darcy Senior fell ill."

Elizabeth sat forward in her chair, wanting to learn all she could about this family that she was bound to occupy for the rest of her life. "Go on please and spare no details. I have all day."

Longman chuckled. "He said you would say that. Perhaps he already knows you better than you think?"

She laughed. "If you wish to boast of the master's perspicacity, you will have to stretch farther than that, Mr. Longman. I suspect Noah could have guessed that, and he never laid eyes on me a fortnight ago. Now, if you care to continue."

While Longman stirred his tea, Elizabeth walked over to a side table and returned with a small decanter of brandy. She set it on the table next to Longman in case he wanted some fortification, while Longman chuckled, having decided early on that Mr. Darcy lucked out in his choice of wife.

"Mr. Darcy Senior fell ill with some sort of Cancer, we think. He spent nearly half a year in and out of bed, quite often in pain, sometimes unconscious for as much as a week, and not capable of managing much of anything. The master had to grow up quickly. He had lost his mother at twelve with the birth of his sister. Instead of a grand tour, he came to an estate with an ailing father. The man could not quite manage the estate, but he was not quite willing to entirely step away and give your husband his head. I fear he inherited the estate's responsibility, but without the power to go with it. His father would often second-guess his decisions, sometimes publicly."

Elizabeth did not like the sound of that and wondered how that would feel for the man. If he did not survive, she was about to find out, so she asked, "Was that in any way similar to what I will face, if he –"

She could not finish the thought, but Longman continued, "No, your situation will be extremely difficult in its own way, but not quite the same. The estate is now a well -honed operation. Your husband has been the master for more than seven years, and any deficiencies have been corrected. In fact, he was planning to leave for six months, and if he did so, everything is set up. If you do absolutely nothing for a year, things will be mostly fine. However, when the master was starting …"

Longman decided to put just a tiny drop of the brandy in his tea – just for flavor, naturally – and continued, "… his father had not been very diligent since the death of his wife, so things were not a well-honed operation. The old steward, Mr. Wickham, had once been reasonably good in his prime, but his prime had been over for years. He should have been pensioned out five years earlier. Add to that, an uncle, blessedly dead now, who mistreated his horses."

Elizabeth had been around Longman just long enough to know that was his worst epithet, which could easily be used for anything up to and including murderers.

Longman continued, "This uncle seemed to think he could browbeat the younger Darcy into giving him some control, or some money, or, well, you get the idea. Things were – I will not say, 'bad' per se – but they were very far from 'good'. He also had his uncle the Earl of Matlock, who at the time seemed to think the master too young to understand much of anything, and Lord help you if you ever encounter his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She spent the whole time trying to either browbeat or compromise him into marrying her daughter. Imagine all that with a man, not much older than you are now, who had been away from Pemberley for most of the previous eight years; five in Eaton and four in Cambridge. What do you know of boy's schools?"

"Very little, I am afraid."

Longman nodded. "Eaton is colloquially known as 'beating'. They believed strongly in the efficacy of flogging for discipline. It is frequent enough that they reserve Fridays for it. Most boys, including your husband, would become mostly estranged from their families during their formative years. As they grew older, they were expected to form what they call 'connections' among the gentry, so they would attend house parties, hunts, and the like on breaks. The master went to Eaton at thirteen and Cambridge at seventeen. All that means that by the time he returned with his father's illness, he had spent at most a month or two at a time in his homes for half of his life."

Elizabeth nodded, feeling considerably more sympathy for her husband than she had. Her trials and tribulations suddenly seemed to be not quite as terrible as she had believed, or possibly even trivial. She may have had a silly mother and distant father during her formative years, but she at least had both, in the same house, every day; while her husband seemed to have nobody whom he could truly rely on. She had two silly sisters, but Darcy had hundreds of people depending on him. She had her mother who made her life uncomfortable, while her husband had to make decisions as his father actively opposed him.

She replied, "That sounds terrible. I supposed I should not complain."

"I would not say that, either. His life had its difficulties, but most lives do. If he does not survive, you will certainly have your challenges. Things were difficult for the master, but he had twenty years of being the heir to prepare. His training from his father was spotty, but he had twenty years of it, and people like me who he had trusted all his life. It was a very different thing – but still difficult."

Elizabeth just nodded in sympathy, trying to picture it.

"On top of all that, he became something between brother and father to his younger sister. She was more than a decade his junior, and he had never been in company with her for more than a few weeks at a time in his life, and even then, only sporadically. Her mother died early, and she was raised by nursemaids and governesses. She might see her brother a few hours here and there, but she mostly lived a separate life, even when he was home, which was rare. He was already at Eaton when Miss Darcy was born. I do not think to this day he really knows if he is father, brother, uncle, protector, or all at once."

Elizabeth thought that was a terrible burden, but at least one she could help with. Even if her mother was a cold-hearted mercenary at times, she had been a good mother once upon a time. Elizabeth did in fact have four sisters – although, at that moment, she did not want to think about them at all. She knew that sooner or later, she would have the burden of deciding if she wanted to remain estranged forever, and the answer was not at all clear.

That, however, was tomorrow's problem, so she returned her thoughts to the matter at hand. "I would hope that I may relieve him of some of that burden. I suspect I know more about the raising of girls than he would."

Longman chuckled. "As you alluded earlier, madam, you cannot claim much in the way of bragging rights for that assertion."

Elizabeth joined him in his laughter and decided she really liked Mr. Longman. He reminded her of her Uncle Gardiner in his general sensibleness, and the few times he had met his wife, she had earned Elizabeth's approbation as well. Her husband had said to trust both Longmans implicitly, which did not hurt his case either.

She finally said, "No, I shall not boast of that at all, particularly since I am not sure there is even one sensible daughter out of the five that I grew up with. But, back to the main point – you are saying it was a very difficult, what – half a year?"

"More like a year, but six months of close to agony and uncertainty – much like I suspect you are suffering now."

Elizabeth nodded, not particularly willing to discuss her levels of agony. She had, in the space of just a few days, gone from the agony of having no control at all, to the agony of having too much control and responsibility; with no time in between to get used to either idea.

Longman continued, "That brings us to my suggestion. Riding in the early morning is something we could do together. There is something about man or woman and beast, the feeling of muscles bunching under you, the ground flying by, and the wind in your hair that can bring peace to a troubled mind. It can give you time for reflection, and the peace to consider other solutions. Darcy said you love to walk in the woods, so I imagine you have a love of nature, even in the dead of winter. When you ride, you need enough attention to the beast to refrain from brooding. In other words, I believe it therapeutic, so I suggest you engage in the practice straightaway."

Elizabeth thought about it a moment. "I suppose I can manage to have a riding habit fitted up."

"Already taken care of."

Elizabeth laughed. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

With a smile, she said, "All right, I place myself in your hands, Mr. Longman. When do we start?"

"Let us go see your horse now. I suggest a short walk just around the stables to see how you get along, and we can go for a run in Hyde Parke early tomorrow morning if you are up for it."

"Let us go to it then, Mr. Longman."

Elizabeth went to her room, and as expected, she found a riding habit waiting for her, along with Molly to help her dress. She suspected it had been fitted from Miss Darcy's closet, but did not care very much. A half-hour later, she was walking to a fenced-in area with Mr. Longman.

He whistled while handing Elizabeth an apple and a couple of carrots, saying, "Do not let his size scare you."

Right at that moment, the largest stallion Elizabeth had ever seen, trotted up and took the treats she offered. She thought she should probably be worried, but she very curiously found herself unable to work up any fear. It was as if her December and January had burned up all her excess emotions, and she had to rest and reclaim them. Her husband and Mr. Longman said this was to be her horse, so this was to be her horse.

Longman said, "This is Omega, named during a Greek phase the master went through some years back. He can run like the wind when he wants to, but when he does not want to, which I readily admit is most of the time, he is as slow as a plow horse. You will have no trouble with him. I also think he is completely impervious to all external stimuli. A canon shot would hardly make him even whiny, let alone startle."

She just laughed. "Of course, not. Let us begin."

The ride around the stable proved to her that her horse – and she had to marvel at the ability to say, 'her horse', was a perfect fit, and she appreciated either Mr. Longman or her husband (more likely both) for the gift that she was certain would give her much comfort over the next few trying weeks or months. Even if her husband completely recovered, the recovery would take three to six months at best, so it was wonderful to have a faithful companion all her own.


The run across the meadow a week or two later had knocked her bonnet loose, though thankfully it had not been lost entirely, like the one she wore the first day or the third or fourth. Longman now carried a spare tucked inside his coat in case of need, and Molly did her best to tie it securely. Between them, they did manage to maintain propriety most of the time. When Omega wanted to run it was like bottled lightning, so fast it took Elizabeth's breath away. He was also a strong horse, so she ran out of meadow long before Omega ran out of breath.

As she brought the horse to a trot and then a walk, Longman came up alongside her on the left, while Noah came up on the right. Elizabeth had attempted to exclude both Noah and Molly from the floor where she took care of her husband due to their ages, but they both proved impervious to instruction. She eventually admitted defeat and let them do as they pleased, although she still drew the line at going into the sickroom.

Elizabeth had set out a course of study for Molly, reckoning that she needed to learn to read well if she wanted to advance in her profession. Noah was ahead of Molly in skill, but still needed work, so Elizabeth made them practice together. It was not matchmaking, but more akin to the mistress of the house taking steps to ensure she was not surrounded by ignorant savages. Should her husband survive, and should she be blessed with sons, she thought she would get all the savages she needed. Since she had two servants so engaged, she had also asked around and set three more to the same task. That was done partly because she just wanted her staff to be better educated, and partly to make the lessons seem more like school and less like courtship.

The thought of herself as a more subtle version of her matchmaker mother, which was admittedly more sad than funny, since her husband was still out of his head after three weeks, still had the power to make her laugh just a bit. She looked down to examine a bit of the path, which left her quite surprised to hear herself being hailed by someone she had not heard ride up.

"Ah, Mrs. Darcy! Good day to you, madam! What a fine morning for a ride."

With some surprise, she pulled Omega to a halt, which mostly seemed to consist of thinking that she wanted him to stop, as the rest all happened as if the horse could read her mind. She looked over to the source of the hail, and quite to her surprise, said, "Mr. Bingley! Mrs. Bingley! Miss Bingley! What a pleasant surprise."

It was indeed a surprise. Elizabeth was not at all certain whether it was pleasant or not, but there was no harm in being polite.

Mr. Bingley was with his newly minted wife, who did not look as sickly and cross as Elizabeth had been led to believe by her cousin Collins. Then again, any similarity between Mr. Collins's opinion and reality was likely to be entirely coincidental anyway. Mr. Bingley looked as amiable and outgoing as ever, bowed over quite comically without leaving the horse. "It is good to see you out and about. How is your husband?"

Mrs. Bingley looked at him sharply as if she was tempted to smack him with her riding crop, while Miss Bingley looked more confused than anything. Elizabeth felt Mrs. Bingley's pain, as the question asked publicly was indelicate at best, but since Darcy had told her personally that Bingley was a friend to be trusted, she decided to take him at his word. Mrs. and Miss Bingley were another matter entirely, so she would have to be careful about what she said.

She sidled Omega over to about two yards from the trio, glanced at Mr. Longman who had looked around carefully to ensure their privacy. "I assume this is a private conversation?"

Bingley startled, as if the idea he was being intrusive had never occurred to him, which was probably true. "Of course," but then he looked at his wife and sister.

Miss Bingley surprised Elizabeth by saying, "You may depend on my complete faith and discretion in all matters, Mrs. Darcy. I am aware we never got off on the right foot before –" but then she seemed to think better of that line of reasoning.

Elizabeth faced Omega towards the lady and moved closer, looking Miss Bingley over carefully, and observing that she looked quite a bit less haughty than she had in Meryton. "That is correct, Miss Bingley, neither of us made the slightest effort to; but need we carry our previous mutual animosity forward? It seems pointless now."

Mrs. Bingley gasped at how forward Elizabeth was with the question. She was not all that surprised that Mrs. Darcy and Miss Bingley were not the best of friends, but she had expected some more circumlocution around the fact.

Caroline looked up sharply, wondering what kind of trap she had walked herself into, and said surprisingly timidly, "I should like to offer my apologies, Mrs. Darcy."

Elizabeth smiled, wondering what in the world she was doing letting Miss Bingley off so lightly. The woman had made hers and Jane's lives slightly miserable during their stay in Netherfield, but in the end, she decided that Miss Bingley at least had a point about her family. She replied, "Bygones, Miss Bingley. Water under the bridge. Shall we make a fresh start?" surprising herself as well as everyone else.

"I will not disappoint, Mrs. Darcy," and much to her surprise, Elizabeth thought she could take her at her word.

With a smile, Elizabeth turned back to the group. "My husband wrote you with the news that the two of us had worked out our differences, and he probably had Typhus."

Everyone nodded, glad that the difficult subject had been broached.

"He has been very feverish for over three weeks and is mostly either asleep or insensible. The physician is getting very worried, as are we all. I share nursing duties with two men and two women. Mr. Longman and my husband suggested a bit of exercise would be good for me, so here I am."

Bingley said, "We are distressed to hear that, Mrs. Darcy. I would hope you know that you may call on us for any service we could provide, at any time, day or night."

"Yes, Mr. Bingley. I thank you for that."

She thought a few minutes, turned to Mrs. Bingley, and asked, "If you could look in on your cousin, my new sister, I would appreciate it. That is presuming you have a good relationship."

Anne thought a moment. "I will visit her, of course. We get along well enough, but do not know each other well. She has been frightened of my mother all her life, and your husband very sensibly dislikes her; so, we have spent little time together. Do you think she might like to visit us in Kent?"

"I have no idea. If you wish to invite her, please feel free. Tell her that she has my permission, but she should decide for herself. If you prefer to stop by the house, I could write her a note if that is easier."

"That will not be necessary. I will visit, and we will let you know what she decides."

Elizabeth sighed, wondering if it was a good idea, but then decided that if Miss Darcy was fifteen years old, it was high time she started making a few of her own decisions anyway. Bits and pieces that she had heard, led her to believe her husband was coddling the girl far more than was good for her. Elizabeth wanted to take steps to ensure she did not have another Lydia on her hands.

Bingley asked, somewhat cautiously. "Any news from Hertfordshire?"

Elizabeth did not particularly like the question, not because it was improper, but because she did not like to think of Hertfordshire. Her mother had started bombarding her with demands for her helping her sisters within a week of the marriage until she wrote back just once saying she would not accept any more post from the family. That had put a stop to it, at least temporarily, but she would have to deal with them definitively sooner or later. She thought it only a matter of time before her mother was pounding on her front door.

She said, "To be honest, no. I do not correspond regularly with my family."

Caroline looked at her somewhat in surprise, but Elizabeth decided she had made a mistake that she would likely have to correct. She was surprised when Miss Bingley looked at her and made a shushing motion with her finger, which Elizabeth presumed to be her promise to keep quiet. It was too subtle by half for her to feel full confidence, but she decided she would address that later.

Mr. Bingley said, "I have heard very little myself. I have been trying to lease out Netherfield but have had no success yet."

Elizabeth asked, "Are you trying to get the full lease price?"

"Anything would be a help, and it would be better for it to be occupied than empty. I have the lease for a year, so I am simply trying to cut my losses."

Elizabeth tried not to smile, as Bingley noticed what he said, and stuttered. "Not that – I do not mean –"

She laughed. "Be easy, Mr. Bingley. I am satisfied with the way things turned out."

Having known the truth of the matter, Mr. Bingley looked somewhat dubious, but Elizabeth said, "Truly, I am content, sir. You are one of my husband's closest friends. We will know each other for a long time. The sooner we learn we need not tiptoe around each other the better."

To her surprise, Miss Bingley once again interjected. "I appreciate that, Mrs. Darcy. That is generous."

Elizabeth was not quite certain what Miss Bingley thought had just been agreed to, but she studied the young woman curiously. She had never really thought much about Miss Bingley's life, but with time on her hands, she believed it could be a worthwhile character study. It was also a fact that she was likely to be in company with her more often than not in the future.

She said, "Mr. Bingley, I have an uncle that may be able to help you. He was not involved in your lease because he had a falling out with the former owner of Netherfield, and he was unwilling to help him. He would be willing to help you if you ask him nicely on my behalf."

Bingley perked up, so Elizabeth turned slightly to her companion. "Noah, if you take Mr. Bingley to my uncle's warehouse, you can catch him when he arrives. Would that do, Mr. Bingley?"

Bingley nodded vigorously, but then looked at his wife, apparently for permission. Anne surprised Elizabeth by laughing, and saying, "Go and play if it will make you happy."

Elizabeth laughed along with Mrs. Bingley and wondered what she was like. She was beginning to think she may have to start over with everyone she knew.

Elizabeth said, "We are in a type of quarantine. I do not like people to come within more than a couple of yards, but if you would like to come for tea, you are welcome Mrs. Bingley, Miss Bingley."

Anne said, "I believe I will go see my cousin. Caroline?"

Caroline said, "If you have no objections, I would like to join you, Mrs. Darcy."

"You are more than welcome. Shall we go?"

She wondered exactly why she had invited Miss Bingley, but there was something lonely about the woman that she found compelling, some look in her eye, a certain timidity of spirit that had not been there before, that made her curious. It was clear that Miss Bingley was angling for a proposal from Mr. Darcy at Netherfield, and within a month she had found Mr. Darcy out of reach, her brother married, and – and – and what, exactly?

In the end, Elizabeth decided it did not matter whether it was compassion or pity. She needed to make new friends, and she would not be able to avoid Miss Bingley forever. There was no time like the present to see what was to become of their 'friendship' or 'acquaintance' if anything. At the very least, if Miss Bingley was to act the part of the snake in the grass, knowing that sooner would be better than later.