Chapter 2

Elizabeth Bennet frowned as she watched the handsome Mr. Wickham attend to Lydia at their Aunt Phillips's card party. The story he had related to Elizabeth only solidified her disdain for the arrogant gentleman Mr. Darcy. She knew he was prideful—his refusal to dance with her or acknowledge her looks was only her first piece of evidence—but she had no idea how resentful he could be!

Poor Wickham. She couldn't help but remember the fury on Darcy's face when they had encountered one another in Meryton the other day.

Elizabeth's thoughts remained focused on the soldier's story throughout the evening and into the next day. Only a note from Netherfield had succeeded in pulling her from her musings.

"Miss Bingley invites you and myself for tea this afternoon?" she asked Jane in surprise. "I wonder what on earth for."

"Clearly she wishes to further a friendship with us," Jane said, her eyes shining. "I believe she is more amiable than you give her credit for."

Elizabeth thought back to the harsh looks and snide remarks she had received from Miss Bingley during their time spent at Netherfield while Jane was recovering her health.

"Perhaps," was all she replied.

The time arrived to go to Netherfield. As the carriage bundled along the road, Elizabeth mentally prepared herself for the onslaught of impertinent questions and sly smiles she expected from Miss Bingley and her sister, Mrs. Hurst.

To the Bennet sisters' surprise, they were greeted not only by the Netherfield ladies but also by the gentlemen. Bingley practically bounced to Jane's side, his face beaming with delight as the two settled on a sofa. Elizabeth took her seat on a comfortable settee while Hurst stretched himself out on a small sofa, clearly already in his cups despite the early hour. Darcy crossed the room and looked out the window to the right of where Elizabeth sat.

Miss Bingley and her sister sat together on chairs near Hurst's sofa, a small table in front of them. The hostess rang the bell, then turned to the group and said, "I am so delighted you could all join us! I have a wonderful new tea from town that I wish for everyone to try."

"I say, I didn't know you were much of a tea drinker," said Bingley with some surprise. "I thought you always said you preferred the same blend and that experimentation was for those who were too unrefined to know their own tastes."

Miss Bingley flushed scarlet and darted a glance at Darcy. "Nonsense, Charles! I declare I like nothing better than to try the latest fashions, whether in clothing or tea. And I'm determined to share this tea with all of you."

Turning to the Bennet sisters, she said condescendingly, "I daresay it will be unlike anything you have ever experienced here in the country."

Thankfully, any further snide remarks were interrupted by the housekeeper's entrance with a tea tray. After laying it on the table in front of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, the housekeeper offered a curtsy and left the room.

Miss Bingley made herself busy, filling each cup with water and tea. Elizabeth thought it was somewhat odd that throughout the process, the hostess moved to the front and back of the table instead of remaining in her seat, but Elizabeth imagined it was something in fashion in London.

Beaming widely, Miss Bingley delicately carried the teacups, along with small biscuits, to each of her guests. She batted her eyes when she served hers to Darcy, who gave a curt thanks but remained facing the window.

"Now, I shall be quite offended if you do not drink the entire thing!" she cried gaily.

Mrs. Hurst nudged her husband with her foot, startling him awake. The man looked around blankly, then after a discreet motion from his wife, rolled his eyes and sat up, taking the last cup from his sister-in-law.

Elizabeth obediently raised the cup to her lips, inwardly rolling her eyes at the dramatics and machinations of the elegantly dressed lady. As soon as the liquid reached her taste buds, she choked. The tea was bitter, even with the copious amounts of sugar and honey that had clearly been added to disguise the acerbity.

At first, Elizabeth thought it was a cruel prank Miss Bingley had played on her to show her superiority. One glance around the room, however, showed that the other guests were doing their best to hide their expressions. It was clear that it was the tea in general that was at fault, not just her own cup.

Noting the hesitancy with which her guests were taking another sip, Miss Bingley urged in a shrill tone, "Come, come, drink up! I went through quite a lot of trouble and expense to give my visitors the very best!" She herself grimaced as she took a large swallow, then forced a pained smile as if to provide evidence of her enjoyment.

In an effort to get the experience over with as quickly as possible, Elizabeth and the rest of the crowd gulped their tea as quickly as politeness would allow. Once finished, she stuffed her biscuit in her mouth to remove the foul taste from her mouth.

After everyone finished their tea, hushed conversation began around the room. Bingley and Jane spoke quietly to one another from their spots, and Miss Bingley conferred with Mrs. Hurst. Darcy's determined gaze remained fixed on something outside, leaving Elizabeth to her own thoughts. As no one appeared to be paying her any attention, she absentmindedly tapped her fingers on the armrest, playing a simple melody she knew by heart.

"Für Elise?"

Elizabeth's shocked gaze turned to Darcy, who was still looking out the window. "Why, yes," she replied. "I must confess to some surprise at you knowing it. Do you play?"

He shook his head. "No, but my sister does. It is one of her favorites, and I hear her play it almost daily."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to ask another question, but before she could make a sound, she was interrupted by a small shout from across the room. "Miss Bennet!"

Bingley was looking at Jane in surprise. To Elizabeth's surprise, her sister lay unmoving across Bingley's lap. His arms were around the elder Bennet girl, whose head lolled to one side.

Letting out a cry of horror, Elizabeth stood quickly in alarm. She swayed as a bout of dizziness assailed her, but a hand grasped her arm.

Darcy had spun from the window. "Are you well?" he asked her in a slurred voice.

"Are you?"

His face turned white, then green.

He shook his head, the motion causing him to lurch to the side. Fortunately, he released her arm before collapsing to the ground.

Elizabeth looked frantically around the room, searching for aid. Bingley had slumped forward, his arms cradling Jane's head with his face in her bosom. Neither of them made any sound. The same was true of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, who were collapsed in a heap on each other. Hurst remained in his prone position, his empty teacup having fallen to the floor beside him, shattered into pieces.

"What on earth?" Elizabeth whispered to herself. "Are they all dead?"

This horrifying thought caused her to rush across the room and shake Jane. She was relieved to see her sister's chest rising and falling as though she were asleep. Bingley's head rose along with her. Elizabeth desperately tried to move the man's face away from her sister's décolletage, but his neck refused to support itself and kept flopping down.

Frantic with worry, Elizabeth ran towards the bell, hoping a servant could summon Mr. Jones, the local apothecary. Before she reached it, however, the door opened behind her. She spun around and saw an officer standing in the doorway.

She sighed with relief. "Mr. Wickham!"