Author's note: thank you all again for your words of encouragement. I am extremely appreciative of them.

Sorry if I didn't explain well about why I took this story down last week. It was originally called "She Smiles Too Much," and there were several people who felt the need to continually tell me why the premise was historically inaccurate. The interesting thing is, there were two main reasons that were given, and those reasons were in direct conflict with each other! It got to the point where I was receiving about 20 emails per day with some rather hateful, personal attacks because of this. I tried several times to give explanations, but that only made things worse.

So I decided to take the story down for a bit and put it up again. During that week or so, I kept writing, and I found the story taking a direction I didn't quite expect. The current title "A Most Beloved Sister" seems to fit better with where it's going.

I hope that makes sense. Enjoy this next chapter!

Chapter 5

True to Mrs. Bennet's prediction - and delight - a hard rain began to fall not long after Jane was to have arrived at Netherfield. The rain continued throughout the evening without stopping, and it was clear that the eldest Bennet daughter would be unable to return.

"What a lucky idea I had!" Mrs. Bennet was heard crowing repeatedly throughout the evening, as if she were taking the credit of making it rain.

"Yes, my dear," said Mr. Bennet drolly at dinner when he heard his wife's boasts. "Your matchmaking skills are quite supernatural indeed."

Her husband had at first been quite angry when he returned home from visiting tenants to discover Jane had been sent off without so much as a groom to accompany her. As there was nothing that could be done, however, his natural tendency towards indolence allowed him to convince himself that all would be well with Jane.

Unfortunately, breakfast had scarcely ended the next morning when a liveried servant arrived from Netherfield with a note for Elizabeth.

Dear Lizzie,

I got lost and wet. I fill sic. Plees kum.

Jane

Elizabeth jumped to her feet in alarm. "I must go to Jane at once!"

Mr. Bennet looked severely at his wife. "If your daughter should die of this illness, I'm certain it will give you comfort to know that it was in pursuit of a good match."

Eyes filling with tears, Mrs. Bennet waved her handkerchief and said in a warbling voice, "Nonsense! People do not die of trifling colds! She will be well, I am sure." Her voice faded away, however, and concern was etched upon her brow.

After a brief argument over Elizabeth's desire to walk to Netherfield in all the mud - the carriage was not to be had - the decision was made for the second Bennet daughter .

As they left the breakfast room to prepare themselves for the walk, Mr. Bennet - who had long since finished his meal and escaped to his typical sanctuary - came out out of his study. "Ah, Lizzy, do you have a moment?"

Elizabeth looked at the large clock and sighed, irritated at being delayed from going to Jane. "What is it, Papa?"

"I need you to take a look at these ledgers. I cannot make the two columns balance, and I'm not sure where the error is."

Thirty minutes later, Lydia poked her head through the door. "Lizzy, what on earth is taking you so long? I want to go!"

"Papa needs me to find about fifty pounds that's gone missing before we can go."

"Well, it shouldn't take that long!" Lydia stamped her foot.

"I'd like to see you try it!" Elizabeth retorted.

Lydia flounced over to the desk and looked down at the numbers. Elizabeth scoffed, "If Papa and I can't find it after looking so long, I highly doubt you can."

Ignoring her sister, Lydia's eyes darted quickly back and forth across the page. Less than ten seconds later, she jabbed her finger at a spot and cried out, "There!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Lydia, it doesn't work like that. You can't just make things up…"

Her voice trailed off as she blinked down where Lydia's stubby finger was pointing. "How… how did you…?"

"How's it coming, Lizzy?" Mr. Bennet looked up from his book, then blinked in surprise at his youngest daughter. "Oh, it's Lydia. When did you come in?"

Lydia rolled her eyes at her father and huffed slightly. She then crossed her arms over her chest and demanded, "Well? Let's go then!"

"Did you find it, Elizabeth?"

Mr. Bennet came around the desk and peered over Elizabeth's shoulder as she crossed out the very entry Lydia had indicated, writing the correct one to the side. "Very good, my dear," he said, patting her on the shoulder.

"Actually, Papa, it was Lydia who discovered it."

Elizabeth still couldn't believe that Lydia had identified the miscalculation - and so quickly! She stared in disbelief at the young girl, who tossed her head and replied airily, "La, it wasn't as if it was all that difficult!"

Mr. Bennet's jaw dropped slightly. Lydia's gaze narrowed at the look of shock on his face. "Just because I look a bit like Jane does not mean that I'm as simple as she is."

Before either her father or sister could respond, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Mr. Bennet watched the outburst with quizzical expression, even after the door had closed. Elizabeth, still reeling from Lydia's startling display of mathematical talent, finally said, "Well, Papa, if that is everything you need, I really must go to Jane."

He waved his hand towards her, ushering her out the door, his brow still furrowed in thought. Dashing up the stairs, Elizabeth quickly changed into a walking dress before coming back down again to don her boots and spencer.

Finally, the Bennet girls - save Mary, that is - headed towards Meryton. Lydia had wished to accompany Elizabeth to see Jane - "After all, I might see Mr. Darcy!" - but by the time they reached the small village, Lydia was too tired to continue on another two miles.

Declaring fatigue, she and Kitty chose to remain near the shops in the hopes of being introduced to some of the handsome young officers who had recently settled in. For all that Lydia spoke of wanting to marry the wealthy man from Derbyshire, she couldn't say no to admiring a man in a red coat.

Elizabeth continued on her way to Netherfield, doing her best to quiet the concerns in her mind by concentrating on the scenery. Unfortunately, she became too lost in her thoughts and did not pay attention to her surroundings. She muttered an oath as she landed in a mud puddle, the wet dirt splashing up onto the hem of her dress.

It was in that state that she arrived in view of Netherfield with tired ankles, dirty shoes, and a flushed face. To her dismay, she was shown into the breakfast parlor instead of directly up the stairs to her sister. All of the Netherfield residents - save Jane - were still sitting down to eat their meal, and their surprise was evident on each of their faces.

"Good morning," Elizabeth said with false brightness. "I have come to inquire after my sister. How is she doing?"

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst exchanged glances before the younger replied, "I am afraid she slept very ill indeed. She was awake when I inquired after her via a maid, but she was too unwell to join us for breakfast."

"It is quite distressing!" exclaimed Bingley, running a hand through his hair. "I am quite dismayed that she was caught in the rain. I understand she took a wrong turn along the way, so she did not arrive until well after the rain had begun."

Elizabeth's eyes widened at this information, and she begged to be excused to see her sister. A footman was summoned to lead the way, and she dipped a brief curtsy. The door hadn't even closed behind her when she heard Miss Bingley loudly declare, "Did you see her hem, Louisa?"

She rolled her eyes and followed the servant up the stairs and into the guest wing of the house. Opening the door, she was quite alarmed when discovered her sister to be very pale and feverish.

Jane sat up and burst into noisy sobs when she saw Elizabeth. "Oh, Lizzy!"

Sighing slightly, Elizabeth sat down on the bed next to her sister and pulled her into her arms. "There now, Jane, I'm here."

Eventually Jane's tears gave way to slumber, allowing Elizabeth to gently lay her back down on the pillow. Her worry had grown considerably during the time she held her sister; Jane's body had felt far warmer than was normal. Between her tears and temperature, it was clear that Jane was quite unwell indeed.

She crossed the room and rang for a maid. "Can you ask Miss Bingley to send a servant for Mr. Jones, please?"

Returning to her sister's side, Elizabeth began to pray. Please, Lord, let him come quickly.