This chapter was really hard for me to write, I wrote it about 10 times, changed things up and even added to it last night though its been written for over a week. Let me know what you think? At first I was going to break it into two shorter chapters but I figured no leave it as is.

Chapter 9

I wished I was a chemist, able to create a vaccine, yet I was not. Despite my efforts, Henry died. It hit Harry hard, and he refused to leave the room. Three days later, he started to show symptoms. I wrote to Elizabeth, keeping her informed. She wrote back from Oxford that all the children were safe and healthy, and that at least gave me hope.

In the midst of tending to the growing ailing villagers and my own family, Sarah approached me one afternoon, her face etched with worry.

"Mrs. Rachel," she began hesitantly, glancing around to ensure we were alone. "I need to speak with you about something…private."

I looked at her, noting the anxiety in her eyes. "Of course, Sarah. What is it?"

She took a deep breath, her hands wringing nervously. "It's about Mr. Hill. He's been showing signs of sickness and I'm terrified he'll not make it."

My heart sank at the news. Mr. Hill had been a loyal and hardworking presence at Longborn for years. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Sarah. I'll do everything I can to help him."

Sarah nodded, but her expression remained troubled. "There's more, Mrs. Rachel. I know you're not like us. You're from…somewhere else. I remember the day Mrs. Bennet went into labor. I held that strange device of yours, and your clothes-they were unlike anything I've ever seen."

I felt a jolt of panic but tried to remain calm. "Sarah, I-"

She raised her hand to stop me. "I don't need an explanation, I just need to know if there's anything you can do to save my husband. Anything from your time that could help him."

Her plea was heartfelt and desperate, and I couldn't deny her. "Sarah, I promise I will do everything in my power. There are some methods and remedies I know that might help. "

She grasped my hands, her eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Mrs. Rachel. Please, don't let him die."

I nodded, squeezing her hands reassuringly. "I'll need you to follow some specific instructions. First, keep him hydrated as much as possible. Boil the water before he drinks it to ensure it's clean. Second, keep his fever down with cool compresses and ensure he rests as much as possible. When his skin breaks out, keep it as clean as you can with warm water, throw the rags away and wash your hands before ever touching yourself"

Sarah nodded, her determination clear. "I will do exactly as you say. Thank you, Mrs. Rachel. Thank you."

Despite my efforts and that of the local apothecary who made it his mission to look into every home to see who needed to be move to Longborn, a little less than half the village ended up at Longborn over the next months. Adding to the list of Mr. Hill, were William Lucas's parents, who own the general store, the Longs, and the all the Goulding, just to name a few. The Lichfields sent over many supplies. It was with great shock one late night when a knock was heard on our door and Lord Lichfield, Robert, was on a stretcher, hot with fever. But the hardest blow came when John got sick.

As I cared for him, I railed at him. "Why, John? Why didn't you leave?"

He looked at me with a weary smile, his face pale and sweaty. "Rachel, I could not leave you. I love you too much."

His condition worsened rapidly. In my heart, I knew what was coming, and eventually, so did he. One evening as the light outside was fading and the house was eerily quiet, John reached for my hand.

"Rachel," he said, his voice weak but steady. "We need to talk."

Tears welled in my eyes. "Don't say it, John. Please, don't"

He squeezed my hand gently. "I need you to listen. You have to be strong for our family, for Edward, France, and even Mary too, though she is married now. Promise me you will keep going."

I nodded, unable to speak.

"Remember the times we have shared, the love we have built," he continued. "I want you to remember me that way, not like this."

"I can't imagine life without you," I whispered, my voice breaking.

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it softly. "You are strong, Rachel. Stronger than you know. You will get through this. And I will always be with you, in your heart."

"I love you, John," I choked out, the tears streaming down my face.

"And I love you, Rachel. Forever," he said, his eyes closing slowly.

I stayed by his side, holding his hand, until his breathing grew shallow and finally ceased. The room felt unbearably silent. My heart ached with an emptiness I had never known.

I kissed his forehead and whispered, "Goodbye, my love."

As I walked out the room, the weight of the loss settled on me like a heavy shroud. But John's words echoed in my mind: I had to keep going. For Edward, for France, for Mary, for everyone who depended on me. And somehow, I would find the strength to do just that.

Six months after Elizabeth left for Oxford, she returned to a village marked by great loss. Twenty had died, including her husband Harry and oldest son Henry, Mr. Long, one of the Goulding's daughter Lord Lichfield, and William Lucas's parents, making him the new owner of the general good store, along with his wife of two years. Others had survived, such as Mr. Hill, the rest of the Goulding Family, and Mrs. Long, but suffered great scarring from the disease.

Thomas returned with his mother, giving up his beloved teaching job to take on the mantle of master of Longbourn. The transition was difficult for him, and I could see the struggle in his eyes as he tried to manage the duties that had suddenly fallen upon him.

"Thomas," I said gently one evening as we walked through the fields, "I know this is not what you wanted."

He sighed heavily, the weight of the world on his shoulders. "No, it is not. I loved teaching, Rachel. It was my passion. But I have to honor my family's legacy. Longborn needs me."

"you don't have to do it alone," I assured him. "We are all here to support you."

Elizabeth returned brought me great relieve but also great sorrow. The grief in her eyes mirrored my own as we embraced, silently mourning the loved ones we had lost.

"Rachel," Elizabeth said softly, "I cannot imagine what you have been through."

"We have all suffered," I replied, my voice breaking. "But we must carry on, for the sake of those we have left."

A few days after Elizabeth's return, I was sitting with her in the cozy sitting room at Longborn. We were reminiscing about our men when a servant announced that The Countess of Lichfield, Rebecca, had come to visit.

Rebecca entered the room with a stony expression. I rose to greet her, offering my condolences over the death of her husband, Robert.

"Rachel," she said, her voice shaking, "how could you let this happen?"

I stood up, taken aback by her sudden outburst. "Rebecca, I did everything I could. The disease was relentless."

"You knew!" she cried, stepping closer. "You knew about the smallpox. You should have warned us better. You should have done more!"

Elizabeth stepped between us, trying to calm her down. "Rebecca, we all lost our husbands. Rachel tried her best. We all did."

Rebecca slapped me, her eyes blazing with fury. "You are a time traveler! You should have known how to save him!"

Elizabeth grabbed Rebecca's hand, her voice gentle yet firm. "Rachel did everything in her power to help us, Rebecca. The loss is immense for all of us, and she never stopped trying to save as many as she could"

Rebecca's anger melted into tears. She collapsed into a chair, weeping. "I just….I needed someone to blame, I am sorry, Rachel. I did not mean to…I just miss him so much. And little Robert, keeps asking for him." she sobbed.

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her, comforting her. "We all feel that way, Rebecca. We all lost so much. But blaming Rachel won't bring them back."

I held my cheek, the sting of her slap mixing with my own sorrow. "Rebecca, don't you think I tried my best. I lost my John, if I could have, I would have I...there isn't a day that doesn't go by that Edward is not asking about his papa. We all suffered."

Rebecca continued weeping. "What will we do now? How will we raise our sons without them?"

"Lord Lichfield has confidence in you," I said, "you know his last moments, he was talking about you, about how strong you are and how he knows you will raise your son to be an amazing Earl one day."

With that we all cried together, missing our husband and worrying about our children. Finally, Rebecca took a deep breath, composing herself. "Thank you, Rachel, for all you tried to do, and for sitting with Robert during his last moments and sharing it with me. Again, I apologize for my behavior."

"There is nothing to forgive, I understand a person grieving needs someone to blame. I truly wish I could have saved them."

In the months that followed, we began to rebuild. I took comfort in the presence of my children and the friendship of Elizabeth. Though the future seemed uncertain, I was determined to honor the memories of those we had lost by continuing to serve the community and providing a loving home for my children.

Those wishing to blame me were not over yet. The night I had determined that Edward, France and I should return to our home, I found France in my sitting room. She had been distancing and sullen ever since her father's death, and I was growing increasingly worried about her.

"France," I began gently, "I know this has been incredibly hard for you. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

She turned to me, her eyes flashing with anger. "You say that, but where were you when my father was dying? You knew what was coming, Rachel! You knew, and you did nothing to stop it!"

Her words hit me like a physical blow. "France, I did everything I could. I tried to save him. I tried to save everyone."

Tears streamed down her face as she glared at me. "If you had known more, if you had done more, maybe he would still be alive. I wish he had lived and I had died instead!"

At that moment, Thomas entered the room. He had heard enough to understand what was happening. "France, that's enough," he said firmly, stepping between us. "Blaming Rachel won't bring your father back. She did everything she could, and more. None of this is her fault."

France looked at Thomas, her expression a mix of anger and despair. "You don't understand," she sobbed. "You weren't here. You didn't see him suffer."

Thomas's face softened, and he stepped closer to her. "You're right, I wasn't here. But I know what it's like to lose someone you love. I lost my father and my brother too. We all lost people we cared about. Rachel lost John. We're all hurting, France. Blaming each other won't help us heal."

France collapsed into a chair, covering her face with her hands. "I just miss him so much," she whispered.

"I know," I said softly, sitting beside her. "I miss him too. We all do."

Thomas placed a hand on her shoulder. "We're here for you, France. We're all in this together. Please, don't push us away."

For a moment, there was silence. Then France looked up at me, her eyes red from crying. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just don't know how to deal with this."

"It's okay," I replied, my own voice shaking with emotion. "We'll get through this together."

Despite this moment of reconciliation, France's grief manifested in a different way over the next few weeks. She became increasingly selfish and distant, shutting herself off from those around her. She spent long hours alone in her room, and when she did come out, she was often cold and indifferent.

I tried to be there for her, but it was difficult. I gave her space, hoping she would come to me when she was ready. But as the days turned into weeks, it became clear that France was struggling to find her way through her grief.

During our mourning period, Elizabeth and I grew closer. One morning, she approached me with a look of determination. "Rachel, is there anything we can set up to help prevent such a crisis from happening again?"

Her question resonated deeply with me. We had all suffered unimaginable loss, and the idea of creating something positive from our grief was compelling. Together, with Thomas's support and financial backing, we began to draft plans for a community health initiative.

The local gentry and townsfolk, having witnessed what they consider miracles performed by me, were more than open to my advice than ever before. The newfound respect was a powerful tool in mobilizing the community.

Rachel was eager to contribute, joined our efforts with enthusiasm. In the midst of our efforts, Rachel found a sense of purpose. She threw herself into the work, helping to organize meetings, gather supplies, and spread awareness about hygiene and disease prevention. Her dedication was inspiring, and it gave her a direction that eased her grieving for her brother and father.

Mary, despite being newly married and of average aptitude for learning, also stepped up to help. She took on the role of educating the younger children, regardless of their social standing. Her patience and kindness made a significant impact, and the children adored her.

The Countess of Lichfield, still grieving her own loss, also contributed to our cause with generous donations. She expressed a fervent hope that our village would never again endure the pain of such widespread loss.

As we worked together, a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose emerged. By the time the year of mourning was up for most residents of Meryton, there was a renewed sense of hope. Our community health initiative was taking shape, and the bonds we formed during this difficult time made us stronger.

Elizabeth and I often reflected on how our grief had transformed into a force for good. "We have created something meaningful out of our sorrow," she said one evening, as we reviewed our progress.

"Yes," I agreed, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "And it is only the beginning. There is still so much we can do."

Well this ends the first section of my story, it ends sadly, but I hope you liked the journey, I would love comments! This story is written in 3 sections, section 1 we just completed, section 2 will be from France coming out until she has her babies, all of her babies, then of course section 3 will jump into Pride and Prejudice main arch. Through this whole story I only have one fix point Darcy and Elizabeth HEA all other points can be changed. Section 2 is half written and about 10 chapters and section 3 is still in rough outline draught with unknow number of chapters.