Disclaimer: I do not own any of Jane Austen's creations. Nor do I own the character of Amanda Price from ITV's "Lost in Austen" ... I am simply borrowing them!

Special Thanks: ThisIs and Edward is Mine95

Note: Had to edit a few things!

Chapter 2 – It Will Surely Rain!

"To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love." – Jane Austen

Awkwardly, I try to dance and manage to make myself into a bigger fool as Caroline Bingley gossips behind her fan about my lack of dance skill and my apparent lack of everything. As I pass her by, on the way to the punch bowl, I hear her say, "I believe Miss Elizabeth Bennet is not an accomplished woman."

I clear my throat behind her and she turns to face me. Her face grows pale as I smirk, "Today is not your day is it, Caroline?"

I continue my walk towards the punch bowl when I see that Jane and Mr. Bingley are dancing together. I smile to myself as I walk towards them, for, the song has just ended.

"How light on your feet you are, Mr. Bingley!" I comment upon his dancing skills.

"And you," he smiles.

"Oh, I assure you," I admit, "my attempt at the quadrille is excessively clumsy."

Mr. Bingley smiles and says, "I thought you danced divinely."

"Oh," I laugh, "now I know you're lying."

"N-no, I," Mr. Bingley is cut off by Caroline.

"No one can accuse my brother of being a liar," Caroline smiles politely; "I only wish I could be more like him."

"Good luck with that," I walk away from Caroline.

***

"Mr. Darcy was ill," I confide to Jane. "Mr. Darcy is never ill."

"Do you know him?"

I wish I could tell her how intimately I know everyone in the house and in town. But, how can I? I am stuck in Elizabeth Bennet's body so it seems and I have no way to get back. I could faint again! But, I don't want to faint until I meet Mr. Darcy. Does that make me sad and pathetic?

"I have read about him."

"Read," asks Jane.

"Correspondence," I nod, "You know, letters … that people have written … to me."

"What did they say?"

"For one thing," I laugh, "he's never been sick!" Then, I try my best to justify my statement with a little white lie, "When everyone in Pemberley had a cold; he developed a slight headache."

Jane sighs and says, "Mr. Bingley is exactly what a man ought to be."

I smile wishing that I could tell Jane not to worry and that she will end up with him. However, I hardly know if the story will be different from what I've read and the end all be all is throwing me into the equation.

"Do you think he will propose?"

I place a comforting hand upon Jane's shoulder, "It is too soon to tell."

Jane smiles with the glow of a woman that is already in love.

***

It is finally tea time and Jane can do nothing but sit and stare out the window; her elbow leaning against the window sill; her expression forlorn. She will not eat and will not express any delight in walking to Meryton that Lydia giggles and guffaws at her expense.

"Look at her," Lydia laughs, "sighing and looking out the window; one would think that she was actually in love."

I turn to Lydia, "Do you talk like this in public?"

Affronted, Lydia says, "No."

"Then I assume," I rise to the defense of Jane, "that you should not speak like a street sweeper in your own home as well."

"Don't claim to be so pious, Lizzy," Lydia dismisses me with a wave of her hand; "when I've seen you looking at men."

"That is quite enough from you," Mrs Bennet speaks up. "I shall not have my daughters fawning over men." She stands up and smiles mischievously, "Men should be fawning over you."

I groan in exasperation, "Don't encourage Lydia. She might take your advice to heart."

The maid walks into the parlor room with a letter in her hand and curtsies, "Miss Jane?"

"Huh," I look up from my needlework as I poke myself in the finger yet again.

"A letter has just arrived. It has been addressed to you."

"Oh," Jane looks from the window. "To me?"

I raise an eyebrow, "Already?"

"What do you mean already?" Jane asks.

"I mean," I shrug, "That was fast. Oh, I don't know what I mean. Never mind."

Jane takes the letter from our maid and looks at the wax seal. CB. She gasps and cracks the wax seal open to see Caroline Bingley's perfectly spun letter and begins to read out loud.

Dear Miss Jane Bennet,

Fitzwilliam apologizes for not being able to make the ball last night. He was indisposed when a slight headache turned into a fever (a first for him).

I would like to invite you and Elizabeth to tea at Netherfield at your convenience. The country is so very lonely that I must keep company and hope that you will indulge me and come, for, I would like to get to know you and Elizabeth better.

Charles talks of nothing but, Jane and her superior dancing and the ball as though it were still occurring. How very tiresome indeed!

Cordially,

Caroline Bingley

After she was done with the letter, I look at Jane, "We must go now."

Jane smiles, "We can take the carriage."

"No!" I shake my head; determined to make the story right, "We must go on horseback."

Mrs. Bennet protests, "It will rain!"

"Yes," I smile mischievously, "and we will surely get colds. But, who will take care of us then?"

Mrs. Bennet gasps, "Mr. Bingley for Jane and Mr. Darcy for my Lizzy?" Mrs. Bennet practically pushes us out the door and says, "Stop nowhere for shelter and write once you reach there!"

With the both of us on horseback, we ride off into the rain; thinking it will be a slight drizzle, when in fact it turns into a full-blown thunderstorm. Jane says, "Perhaps, we should turn back?"

"No," I blink away the rain drops; "let us go forth; it is only three more miles."

We finally reach Netherfield and the servant takes our horse to the stable. Once we are inside the house, both Jane and I promptly pass out upon the cold marble floor.

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