17th November

The following morning a maid brought the breakfast tray and a note from Mrs Bennet to Elizabeth.

'It seems Papa has finally told Mamma about Lydia,' commented Elizabeth. 'Let me read out what she says.'

Jane continue eating from her breakfast tray as her sister read aloud.

"Dear Lizzy,

Thank you for your letter, letting Mr Bennet know about my poor dear Lydia's safe arrival at Netherfield. How she must be suffering, away from her mamma at such a time. But maybe it is for the best, as I am too ill myself to nurse her. Mind you take good care of my dear girl but be sure and keep Jane away from her in case she becomes poxed too. Jane has too beautiful a face to be scarred. Mr Bingley would never want her then. She must take every opportunity now she is well again, to spend time with Mr Bingley and leave you to look after Lydia. You are nothing to my Jane, after all.

Your father tells me that you have had one of those vaccine things. He insisted I also be so treated but my nerves were grievously afflicted. So much so, I had to take to my bed and am now unwell with a cold. I do not understand why I would need one, as no-one here is sick of the smallpox, but I do so wish my dear Lydia could have been done before now, so that she would not now be so unwell. I have allowed the servants their share also, as they must visit with people from the village and I do not want them becoming sick. I would not manage here without them.

You father does these things to annoy me, I am sure, but we have a visitor arriving tomorrow and it is too late to prevent his travel here now. Mr Collins, the very one who will turn us all out of this house before your father is cold in his grave, is coming to stay. The thought of that odious man here, in this house makes me glad I am so unwell and keeping to my room. I'm sure he will be looking at everything as quite his own already. With any luck, he will catch the smallpox while he is here for I feel sure he will not have been vaccinated.

I must finish now, I feel the spasms in my side coming on again just thinking about that man. How my nerves suffer for this family.

Your loving,

Mamma."

Their eyes met as Elizabeth concluded the letter.

'She does not mean to be cruel to you, you know,' said Jane.

'Oh Jane, you know Mamma likes me the least of all her daughters. I am well used to it by now. Do not worry about my feelings. I do find myself curious about this Mr Collins though.'

'Oh yes, my Father's heir. I wonder why he chooses to visit us at this time.'

'It does seem unexpected, but knowing my father I have no doubt he has known of Mr Collins arrival for some time and thought to surprise mamma, leaving it too late to cancel the visit. You know how he loves to tease.'

Jane nodded and then sighed. 'Well, we shall have to wait to find out. He may be gone away again before we return home, as we cannot leave before Lydia is well again.'

'No indeed.' She twinkled at her sister. 'Still, you shall have more time to capture what little is left of Mr Bingley's heart.'

'And you will be a nursemaid. It seems so unfair that you cannot enjoy your time here as well. You have already been nursing me, after all.'

'I will be well. Do not worry. My time is only needed when the nurses are elsewhere and remember, Lydia is yet well enough not to need constant nursing.'

'That is true. But still…'

Elizabeth patted her hand with a smile. 'I will dress, then visit with Lydia, but I think you may be well enough to leave your room for a longer time now. I suggest you persuade Mr Bingley to take you outside for some fresh air. It will do you good after being indoors for so long. Maybe Dr Williams will think you well enough for vaccination if he sees you up and about.'

On this they parted for the morning, Elizabeth to prepare for the day and visit with her youngest sister and Jane to the parlour and her friends.

The day passed uneventfully, but by mid-afternoon a feeling grew on Elizabeth, as if she were waiting for a storm to break. Something was coming but she was unsure what it could be. It began to prey on her nerves. Then she laughed to herself. Just like Mamma… Shaking her head at her whimsy, she decided some time away from Lydia was required. Maybe a stroll in the garden would clear her head.

She collected a book from her room before heading outside, walking briskly away from the house until she was out of sight. Then she picked up her skirt and ran until her breath came in short gasps and her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Walking back while her breathing returned to normal she found herself in the rose garden. A sunny, but sheltered bench close by a fragrant pink rose bush called her name and she settled there to enjoy a few pages of her book.

She had been reading for some quarter hour when voices came from the path behind her. Segregated from the path by a hedge she could not see them, nor they her, and loath to eavesdrop she'd almost decided to stand and creep away, but on hearing the name Bennet she froze.

Maybe they would move on and never realise she was there. She remained seated and tried to concentrate on her book, but the words coming from behind permeated, insisting on being heard.

'I am worried about Charles. He is too easily distracted by a pretty face.' Elizabeth recognised the shrillness of Miss Bingley's voice and made a small bet with herself who she was walking with.

'I do not see why.' The voice was Mr Darcy's. Was she to be forever doomed to overhear his conversations?

'Why Mr Darcy, isn't it perfectly obvious. He is paying too much attention to Miss Bennet. When you get a moment, I do wish you would speak with him and explain how lowering it would be for us to be connected with that family.'

Elizabeth's cheeks grew hot and she wished herself elsewhere. Worse, Mr Darcy and Miss Bingley seemed to have paused on their stroll and were directly behind where she sat. There was no escape for her.

'Lowering for the son of a tradesman to be connected to a gentleman's daughter? I have not the pleasure of understanding you.'

Ha! thought Elizabeth, with a grin. Take that, daughter of a tradesman.

'He could just do so much better, though. She is nothing compared to Miss Ellington, with her £20,000 dowry and connections to the nobility. I wish we were back in town, he would be much better spending time with his own class.'

'He has informed me that he has no interest in Miss Ellington.'

'Oh, what does that matter. Marriage is to make good connections and to further yourself in society. Love can be found later if necessary.'

'Miss Bingley, I would have you know that my parents were a love match and as such, I can fully understand why your brother would want affection from his marriage partner. Despite some misgivings about certain members of her family, and the somewhat rustic environment, Miss Bennet is a pleasant, well-mannered young lady and would likely make him happy.'

Elizabeth froze, the smile dropping from her lips and the rosy flush on her cheeks vanishing, leaving her pale with anger.

'Besides,' Mr Darcy continued. 'I am not convinced he is considering marriage at this time. If Bingley were to ask my opinion I would be honest with him, but I will not interfere. It is, after all, none of my business and I would thank you not to importune me any further on this matter.'

'But, Mr Darcy…'

'Let us return to the house. I must speak with my cousin on an urgent business matter.'

Elizabeth sat silently as the footsteps on the gravel path faded into the distance until they died away to nothing. Heaving a sigh of relief, she stood and looked carefully around and, seeing no-one near, fled toward the woods.

Elizabeth spent some time wandering the woodland, waiting for her anger to abate. Until she regained her countenance, being able to encounter Miss Bingley or Mr Darcy and remain completely civil was likely to be difficult and would require all her self-discipline.

A chill in the air forced her back to Netherfield. Entering by a side-door to avoid everyone, she crept up to her room via a back stairway. She even avoided Jane for a time, reading in her room until her blood had cooled sufficiently. She did not want to upset Jane, who was so perceptive at gauging when her sister was in bad humour.

Pasting on a smile and oozing good temper, Elizabeth visited with Jane for a short time before excusing herself to prepare for dinner. Luckily, Jane's illness must have affected her perception, or maybe her thoughts were more agreeably engaged, as she allowed Elizabeth to leave without question.

As before, and to her confusion, she again encountered Mr Darcy at the head of the stairs. He escorted her down, but she did not attempt any conversation with him, unable to trust herself. As soon as she could escape his side, she fled to the Doctor on a pretext of asking about Mrs Hurst and the other sufferers.

Thanks to Miss Bingley's seating plan, she was again seated away from Mr Darcy and the Colonel and placed between Mr Bingley and the Doctor. Both of her seating companions were pleasant company and she felt herself relaxing during the meal, making plans to absent herself with a headache as soon as the gentlemen joined them after the separation. However, her plans were thwarted by Colonel Fitzwilliam, who insisted both ladies play for them after dinner. Forcing a smile in acceptance, she rose to follow Miss Bingley to the music room.

Elizabeth left Miss Bingley calling for the housekeeper to have the tea tray brought to the music room and went to examine the music sheets on the pianoforte, hoping to find something she knew and could play sufficiently well. After selecting a piece, and settling with her cup of tea, the gentlemen entered. While Miss Bingley poured for them, the Colonel reminded Elizabeth of her promise.

She picked up the sheet music she'd chosen and, hiding the title with a mischievous smile, showed it to him. 'I am quite prepared, Colonel, I assure you. Once you are all settled, I will play the song I have chosen.'

'I look forward to hearing it,' a deep voice behind her said. Her smile froze as she recognised it.

Turning she said, a chill in her voice, 'I do hope you don't find my choice or my performance too rustic for your liking.'

'I'm sure it will be quite charming,' Mr Darcy replied. 'Shall I turn the pages for you?'

Elizabeth hesitated. Having him so close while she played was not to her liking, for sure, but it would be rude to dismiss him. Inwardly sighing she replied, 'If you like.'

'I miss sitting with my sister and turning the pages while she plays, so it would be a pleasure.'

Elizabeth gave a small nod and a tight smile, then turned to settle herself at the piano. Mr Darcy took up position by her shoulder. She could feel the heat from his overclose body radiate through her and had to concentrate to remain undisturbed by the sensation.

Placing her fingers on the keys, she ran a few exercises to warm up her fingers, before opening the sheet and placing it on the piano stand. She half turned, catching a sour look on Miss Bingley's face before looking up at Mr Darcy. 'Do you read music, Mr Darcy?'

'I do.'

She nodded, then began to play. 'Then you will need no prompt from me to turn at the correct time.'

She was a little out of practise at first, fudging some of the harder fingerings, but it was not long before the emotion of the piece pulled her in, and the music flowed smoothly. Mr Darcy was as good as his word, turning the pages in such good time that she did not miss a beat.

She felt almost bereft when the notes on the page ran out, so engrossed was she. Loud applause startled her out of her reverie, she had almost forgotten she had an audience.

'Very well done, Miss Elizabeth,' called Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Miss Bingley stood and moved toward the piano. She frowned at Elizabeth before turning a simpering look up on the man beside her. 'Mr Darcy, will you turn the pages for me now?'

Elizabeth slipped quietly away, as Mr Darcy was forced to assent. She made her apologies to the room and slipped away as the first notes of Miss Bingley's performance were heard.