Jane Bennet wondered just how many of her mother's tendencies she inherited. She hoped it was not too awfully many; but experiencing the panic of seeing the hill she had to traverse at least gave her some slight sympathy for that lady's supposed nerves. Of course, Jane knew her fears were at least rational while her mothers were self-inflicted, so the comparison fell apart rather quickly. Miss Darcy's quick thinking and sympathy went a long way to appreciating that young lady, who, after all, was only slightly older than Lydia.

She was overwhelmed by the amount of thinking she was required to do in the few hours of their mad adventure, and to be honest with herself, how much her thoughts bounced around to places she would never have imagined.

She would have expected nearly every single thought to be consumed by her sister. Absent that she would have expected at least some level of guilt for inattention. She would have expected any glance at another man with thoughts to a possible future to be anathema, wanton, disloyal, or something Mary and her Rev Fordyce would condemn. Perhaps, any other day, she might well have. While those thoughts appeared out of habit, they were circumvented by one overriding idea:

Four months of thinking the same proper thoughts over and over had done her not the slightest bit of good, and her sister was depending on her.

When she left Gracechurch Street, she was already aware of Mr Darcy's us and them stricture, though what she knew then turned out to be but a tenth part of the whole. In the end, Lizzy depended on her to pay attention and act in their best interests. Her other sisters were as well, and if Georgiana Darcy turned out to be another sister to toss onto the pile, so be it.

Things were likely to happen far more quickly than she would like, but being caught unprepared would do nobody any good. She was in a battle for her family and having Mr Darcy and the colonel seemed vastly superior to her father, who had done nothing but laugh at her heartbreak the previous autumn.

Perhaps, she thought, she was finally growing up.


Meeting the colonel was interesting. While she was not as consumed with first impressions as her sister, she knew everyone relied on them far too much for their own good. The colonel gave the impression of a man holding a great deal in reserve. On the surface, in their acquaintance of a mere quarter-hour, he seemed amiable and somewhat jovial, but she could imagine eventually pulling the story of Lizzy's night out of the man (without Miss Darcy's presence, of course), and it would not be pretty.

When the moment of truth was at hand, she was never certain whether taking the five minutes to speak to the medical men was practicality or procrastination; but in the end, she mostly thought if she was to be a grown woman, she should act like one as much as possible. Knowledge was power, and if her sister was in any danger of succumbing within the hour, the ambience of the encampment would have been very different, and the medical men would have been with their patient. Mr Darcy had done what was required instead of what he desired, so there was little reason for her not to act similarly.

She dragged Miss Darcy off to the visit more out of habit than any real thought. Whether it was some vestiges of propriety, protection, or simply a desire to include an obviously lonely girl into the fold was hard to tell; but once again, those thoughts did not occur at all in the moment of action. It seemed obvious Miss Darcy was better off inside the cabin than out, and she was quite enjoying the novelty of a sixteen-year-old girl who did not argue at every turn.


Her first sight of Elizabeth hit hard, but with all that happened in the previous eight hours, it did not overwhelm.

Lizzy was lying on a rough-looking bed in a nondescript cabin, but it had the appearance of order she would expect from Mr Darcy's household. The linens were clean, there was a cheery fire on the grate with a kettle hooked over it, there were clean linens stacked in the corner, and she was attended by a woman who reminded Jane of their housekeeper at Longbourn, Mrs Hill.

"I presume you are the Misses Bennet and Darcy. I am Mrs Buxton," she said softly but otherwise allowed Jane to stare at her sister.

Her observations were frightening, though far better than her overactive imagination had conjured. By some twist of fate, Elizabeth's face was almost entirely undamaged, as if she had unconsciously protected it just to keep from giving their mother one more thing to criticize, though Jane immediately found the thought unworthy. She was under a blanket with her leg elevated, encased in something intimidating-looking. The patient's hands were on top of the blanket, with rather obvious bandages on both, more on her arms, and probably more Jane could not see.

All in all, she mused, it could have been better, but it most certainly could have been far worse. For the moment, the visceral panic she had been feeling for the past several hours, with her fears that her sister might fade away from the world without her comfort, were assuaged.

Once she was mildly satisfied with the first glance, she looked to Miss Darcy to see how she fared. When she saw the lady seemed more interested than distressed, she moved her attention to Mrs Buxton.

"Your sister has been sleeping somewhat peacefully the last hour or two after a very difficult night, but I feel she might awaken soon. When she does, do not expect much sense. We have administered laudanum for her pain, and between that and the fever, one cannot depend on much."

"Will the pain recede?"

"We cannot say. Did the doctors explain what might happen?"

"They would have if I was not so anxious to see my sister."

Mrs Buxton chuckled in quiet amusement. "You are commended for listening to a single word."

Jane laughed nervously, and Georgiana joined a minute later. "It nearly killed me, but it is time to put away my childish things."

"I suspect so. There is a storm brewing, Miss Bennet, make no mistake about it, but I believe your gentlemen are up to the task."

The casual way the nurse said your gentlemen and the similar way neither of the ladies reacted showed they all understood how things stood. All knew that in a rational world, Miss Elizabeth and Miss de Bourgh would play the part of victim and villain respectively, and they could make or reject suitors according to their preferences—but then again, if they wanted to live in a rational world, they had chosen their parents poorly.

"Tell me about her injuries, if you would."

"Best if I show you," she said, then walked around to lift the blanket to allow the ladies to see.

For Jane, seeing another woman in her night clothes was nothing new, but it seemed a novel experience for the probably sheltered Miss Darcy.

She saw the splints on her legs in consternation, though all she observed was steel, cotton, and linen.

"You cannot see very much now. We will change the dressings in a few hours and look for trouble signs. Infection, Gangrene, and problems with blood flow are the biggest worries."

As they continued the inspection, Jane was slightly queasy when Mrs Buxton pulled aside some of the bandages, explaining she needed to inspect the wounds for infection, and nearly swooned when she saw the biggest gash across her chest.

Mrs Buxton calmly and patiently explained. "That was painful to stitch, but I understand the colonel kept your sister sane through it. They finished before I arrived. The good colonel had quite a bit to say about the stitching, apparently finding it superior to his own sister's embroidery."

As intended, both of her charges laughed and relaxed a bit.

Georgiana, who had been quite silent ventured, "Better than mine, I dare say."

Jane just nodded as they covered her back up and sat down.

They remained in companionable silence watching the patient sleep for a half-hour, neither lady feeling any need to do anything save stare at Elizabeth wishing her well.

Mrs Buxton took up a work basket and started knitting something that looked like a small jumper.

At Jane's curious look, she replied, "For my grandson."

"I wish I knew how to do that," Georgiana said wistfully, apparently unaware that the typical ton list of ladies' accomplishments was a minimum, not a limit.

"I shall teach you."

That left Jane wondering at the wisdom of leaving two bachelors as guardians to a young girl.

"How old were you when your parents died?" she asked, partly out of curiosity, and partly to see if she could get the girl talking. It seemed they would not get anything out of Lizzy for some time, and with only three sensible people at the streamside, it ought to be her duty.

"My mother when I was three. I do not remember her at all. My father when I was eleven… and —"

The way she chopped the sentence off told Jane something, so she finished for her. "I imagine you did not know him that well either."

She just shook her head.

Jane thought back to all she knew. "My experience says fathers rarely pay much attention to daughters until they arrive somewhere near marriage age. I assume your brother was at school already when you were born, and then he was master during your formative years. I cannot imagine you spent that much time with him either."

"No, I suppose not," she said, then shyly added, "I still do not for that matter."

Jane and Mrs Buxton chuckled grimly.

The elder lady said, "Now seems as good a time as any to learn. It is in the heat of battle that you know what a man is made of."

Tell me about your husband if you do not mind.

With that, the lady gave them a few sanitized stories of her life following the drum. On the one hand, seeing so many different things and having so many experiences seemed like it would be thrilling, but otherwise, it did not have much to recommend it.

She thought that if she did end up with the colonel for a husband, it would be Mister Fitzwilliam, not Colonel. Mr Darcy thought he was persuasive, but Jane suspected she would be better if she put her back into it.


A knock on the door alerted them a half-hour later, and Georgiana opened it to Cecil bringing tea. Jane laughed to see it was on a proper tray, though it was wood instead of silver, and the teapot and cups were of high quality.

"You cannot imagine my brother's valet would allow an inferior tea service?" Georgiana giggled, and Jane joined her.

Jane took the tray, shooed Cecil back out, and served for the group.

She had just taken her first sip when she heard it:

"Jaaaney?"

With a start, she put the tea down and looked over to Elizabeth, who was staring at her in wonder, though there was something alarmingly off about her countenance.

"Do not be concerned, Miss Bennet. It is the laudanum."

"Janey… You are here? You are here? Hoowww?"

The voices were asked in a breathless and confused breath, and the slurring was obviously like someone in their cups. Her eyes looked very pale and were shifting around the room in confusion.

"I am here, Lizzy. Mr Darcy rushed through the night to London to get me. Your accident was but half a day ago."

"NO accident…" Elizabeth said with what sounded like alarm, though still the same slurred voice.

Jane took her hands nervously. "Yes, yes, yes… no accident. Colonel Fitzwilliam told us all about it."

"Colonel Fizzzwwllll…" Elizabeth added confusedly, and Jane looked at Mrs Buxton nervously.

"Be at ease. It is the laudanum speaking. She may or may not remember this conversation."

"Jane… Jane…" Elizabeth asked with a confused voice.

"Yes, Lizzy… I am right here."

"I fell down!"

"Yes, I know," Jane sighed, remembering the same words and tone of voice from hundreds of spills as small children. She wanted to hug her sister to her breast and tell her everything would be all right, but she realized that was more likely to hurt than anything else.

Instead, she replied in a soothing voice, "We will get you all better!"

"Hurts —" she continued, but then was interrupted by a ripping, rough coughing spell that nearly sent Jane into panic, but set Mrs Buxton into action.

"Have no fear, Miss Elizabeth, it is all right," she said as she lifted her head a bit and brought a bandage to catch anything that escaped.

Elizabeth coughed ferociously for quite a long time then let out a scream of pain, but it did not last long.

Jane saw Georgiana looking frightened, then the door opened to admit the two doctors. The ladies got out of the way, and the men joined Mrs Buxton to examine the patient. After helping her cough out everything there was to get, Elizabeth fell back.

The men looked her over a bit, though Jane had the idea they were doing it more for her comfort than anything else since Mrs Buxton knew what she was about.

Doctor Nott spoke for them. "Do not be alarmed. This is expected. We must limit her laudanum because it suppresses breathing. She was coughing blood last night, but that has mostly healed itself. We can give her more laudanum, but we must be very careful about creating a dependence. Do you know what that is?"

Jane nodded and frowned. She knew about it because one of the Longbourn tenants had developed a habit that nearly bankrupted his family. Naturally, neither of her parents explained what was occurring but Mrs Hill was more forthcoming.

Elizabeth was resting easier, though still awake. She asked confusedly. "Jane… Jane… Why… Why… Why two of you?"

Jane laughed in relief and took her sister's hand with a smile. "Oh, Lizzy… there is only one of me. This is Miss Darcy."

Georgiana curtsied, but Elizabeth just looked more confused.

She finally mumbled, "Miss Darcy… Proud… Very proud…"

Georgiana seemed to turn pale, but Jane was having none of it.

"NO, Lizzy," she said as sternly as she could manage. "That is a LIE told by Mr Wickham. Georgiana is very good, as is her brother for that matter, and Mr Wickham is very-very bad."

Jane had no idea if her sister would accept the truth of the matter, and briefly felt bad about bringing Georgiana into the room, but she got over it quickly enough. Lizzy's animosity against Mr Darcy was like a boil, and as far as she was concerned, it was time to lance it."

"Mr Wickham Bad? Mr Darcy Good?" Elizabeth said very confusedly.

"Yes. Trust me, Lizzy."

"All right Jane… I tired —"

Then right in the middle of her sentence, she seemed to fall asleep.

They all waited a few minutes then Jane observed. "That went better than I expected."

"You do not think you are finished, do you?" Dr Knott asked.

"No, but it is a start."

The doctors left, and the ladies sat down to wait a bit.

Mrs Buxton ventured the opinion that she was likely to sleep for several hours, and since she had already seen her sister, it might be a good time for the ladies to get some sleep themselves.