Thank you, as always, for those who let me know what their questions are, what feels unsure, and any errors they see. And for the very kind words!

Chapter 8

Upon returning to Netherfield, Darcy gently lifted Elizabeth down from the horse and carried her into Netherfield. The small uproar amongst the servants caused Miss Bingley to leave the drawing room to ascertain the cause of the turmoil.

"Mr. Darcy! Miss Eliza!"

Miss Bingley's eyes were wide with shock, and she stared with her mouth agape in a very unladylike fashion. Darcy paid no heed to his hostess and said, turning to the housekeeper, Elizabeth still in his arms. "A hot bath and clean towels for Miss Elizabeth at once. She has injured her feet. Perhaps the apothecary ought to be called back again."

Ignoring Miss Bingley's shrieking demands to know what had occurred, Darcy continued into the manor and up the stairs towards the guest wing. Upon reaching the door to her room, he jerked his head at a footman, indicating that the man should open it.

Ignoring propriety, Darcy entered the room and set Elizabeth on the settee near the window. "I imagine you wish to bathe and change before getting into the clean sheets," he said.

With no further ado, he gave a short bow and exited the room.

Elizabeth was oblivious to the commotion about her as a two maids and the housekeeper helped her undress, bathe, and dress again. She was tucked into bed with hot bricks, and the housekeeper clucked in distress at seeing the soles of Elizabeth's feet.

"I daresay you won't be allowed to walk for at least a week," the kindly woman said, using a cloth to continue to wash the dirt and debris from inside the cuts.

Elizabeth made no response; she sat numbly for nearly half an hour until the door opened again.

"Lizzy?"

Her head snapped up at the sound of her father's voice.

"Oh, Papa!"

Elizabeth burst into tears as he crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to her. He placed a comforting arm around her shoulders, and she turned her face into his chest, sobbing.

They remained that way for several minutes until all her tears had been spent. Finally more tranquil, Elizabeth sat back slightly and looked up at her father.

"You received my note?"

Mr. Bennet's voice was heavy with tears. "I'm afraid so, my Lizzy. I spoke with Mr. Jones, as well; I arrived here just as he was returning - something about your feet being injured? He is just outside, so you and I can speak later."

Elizabeth didn't want to move from her father's embrace, but his gentle urging convinced her to sit back and allow Mr. Jones to examine her damaged feet.

He tutted and frowned as he knelt at her feet to inspect the bruised and torn flesh. Finally he sat back and said, "I'm afraid I will need to clean them with alcohol before applying a salve and bandaging them. The pain will be quite intense, but I worry that to leave them as they are will cause an infection."

She shuddered at the idea of losing her feet entirely and acquiesced. Mr. Jones opened a flask and poured some of it onto a clean cloth, then pressed it against the first wound. Elizabeth let out a cry of pain at the burning sting that shot from the soles of her feet and up her legs.

Mr. Bennet reached out and placed a bracing arm around her shoulders. He passed her a small pillow and said, "Here, Lizzy; bite down on this."

She shook her head, then gritted her teeth as Mr. Jones continued the debridement. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more pain, the apothecary began to apply a thick salve that soothed the sharp agony into a low tingle.

Once the salve was applied, he then began to bind her feet with soft, white strips of cloth. The bandages were then covered with socks, and Mr. Jones sat back to admire his handiwork.

"If you were any other young lady," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "I would instruct you to remain in your bed for at least three days. Since it's you, I'll simply tell you to exercise caution and keep your feet elevated as much as possible. If the pain becomes severe, or you develop a fever, you must summon me immediately."

He left a jar of salve on the little table by her bed and left the room to give instructions to the maid on how often to change the bandages.

Mr. Bennet let out a heavy sigh. "What on earth possessed you to be so foolish, Elizabeth?"

"I just…. I needed to get away. I couldn't breathe."

"I can't say I blame you," Mr. Bennet said. "I recommend next time you wish to emulate Leonidas of Rhodes, you do so with the proper footwear."

Elizabeth's tears gave way to laughter, and Mr. Bennet joined her. When the humor died away, they sat for some moments in contemplative silence. Finally, he suggested they check on Jane.

"I would tell you to stay in bed, but I know even better than Mr. Jones that my breath would be wasted."

He stood up and picked up the mangled house slippers she had been wearing. She laughed and said, "I believe my bandages and socks will be sufficient."

Her father smiled in acknowledgment and extended his arm for her to lean on. She gasped as she rose from the bed and put weight on her injured feet. Mr. Bennet began to lower her down again, but she shook her vehemently.

"No, I am well. It just surprised me, that's all. I need to see Jane. I will sit down in there."

The pair slowly made their way to the door that connected Elizabeth's bedroom with her sisters. At that moment, Elizabeth could have kissed Miss Bingley for giving them adjoining rooms, as it meant she didn't have to walk around through the hallway to reach her sister.

Elizabeth said as much to her father, who snickered. When they opened the door and saw Jane being visited by the very person of whom they spoke, they stopped.

"Speak of the devil," murmured Mr. Bennet, causing Elizabeth to bite her tongue in order to stifle her laughter.

"Ah, here is your sister now!" Miss Bingley said with false cheer. "Dear Jane has been very worried about Miss Eliza's wild behavior."

"Lizzy!" cried an anxious Jane, giving evidence to Miss Bingley's statement. "Are you well?"

This question was punctuated by a severe coughing fit that lasted several minutes. Jane's face was pale, and it almost appeared as if her lips were a slight blue.

"Do not worry about me," Elizabeth replied lightly, trying to hide her alarm. With her father's help, she limped over to Jane's bed. "I daresay my feet got the better of the event. It is my poor nerves that are damaged from having to ride atop Mr. Darcy's horse!"

Miss Bingley looked as if she had swallowed a lemon at this reminder of seeing Elizabeth in Darcy's arms, and Elizabeth once again bit back a giggle.

"Well, I shall leave you all to it, then," Miss Bingley said. "I do hope you recover quickly, Jane; both of you."

Jane beamed at her friend, who could not help but smile back at the unaffected cheer on Jane's face. Once the lady had left, Jane turned her joy towards her father and sister. "Isn't she just so kind?"

Elizabeth exchanged a wry look with her father, who smiled and said, "I am glad you think so, my dear. How are you feeling?"

"My chest hurts, Papa. I want to go home."

Mr. Bennet sighed deeply. "I'm afraid you will need to stay at Netherfield for a little longer. I will stay tonight, however; Mr. Bingley has already made the offer, and I have accepted it."

Jane's face fell, and Elizabeth quickly said, "But think of the fun we shall have here! When you are improved, we can take you downstairs to visit with Mr. Bingley. You'll be able to see your friends, and you'll have more servants to wait on your needs and wants then you ever would at home!"

Jane grinned happily. "I would like to spend more time with Mr. Bingley. I haven't been able to see him at all since I came."

"Well, it wouldn't be very appropriate for him to come to your room!" Elizabeth teased.

The three Bennets laughed together, then spent the following hour in amiable companionship until Jane drifted off to sleep.