Uncommonly Intelligent Chapter 11: Stormy Weather, a pride and prejudice fanfic

Chapter 11: Stormy Weather

Longbourn, Hertfordshire, October 2, 1811

Elizabeth awoke with a slight feeling of guilt. The day of the assembly, her mother had insisted that all of her daughters stay home and help each other - which to Mrs. Bennet largely meant her three less favored daughters helping Jane and Lydia - put the finishing touches on their gowns and bonnets. And the day after the assembly, Elizabeth had slept until nearly noon, for the assembly had lasted well past midnight.

As a result, she was nearly two days behind on her tenant visits, and she resolved to make up for it today. She would get an early start, and would ride Loki, rather than walk.

He was a fine horse – not so grand as the stallion she had met yesterday, but then she was not a grand lady. But he was a sturdy gelding that she and her father had decided would be a good investment, for Buttercup was getting old. They had bought him as a foal, and she had named him Loki because he was always getting into mischief. Not only did he find Mrs. Bennet's prize roses delicious, but any lady who wore a flowered bonnet in his vicinity was in danger of having it nipped off her head.

She saddled Loki herself. Mr. Bailey, Longbourn's groom, had been working shorter days lately, for his wife was about to deliver their first child. Mr. Bennet was more than happy to allow him extra time at home while the sun was up so that he could do chores for his wife that she usually did herself.

Two hours after Elizabeth left, a messenger from Netherfield arrived at Longbourn. Although it was addressed to Jane, Mrs. Bennet snatched it from Hill, the butler, and opened it herself, unable to bear the extra thirty seconds of waiting it would have taken for Jane to read it. She began reading, but almost immediately looked up.

"Oh Jane, I knew it!" cried Mrs. Bennet. "Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley have invited you to tea! I am sure that they did it at the direction of Mr. Bingley, for he was quite smitten with you at the assembly."

Jane blushed. "Mama, I am sure it is just Mr. Bingley's sisters being friendly. May I see it, please?"

Kitty and Lydia, who were also sitting in the parlor, looked at each other and giggled. Jane was so sweet that she hadn't even thought of chiding her mother for reading her personal correspondence.

Mrs. Bennet handed her the note distractedly, for she was already mentally reviewing Jane's wardrobe. Which gown has the lowest neckline? No need to hide one's assets under a bushel. But her reverie was interrupted when Jane said, "Mama, the note explicitly states that the reason I am invited is that Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley need diversion because the men are out inspecting the estate, and are expected to be gone all day. I will probably not see them."

Mrs. Bennet snatched the note back, and read the offending paragraph. She looked out the window to think, and noticed that the clouds were starting to get dark.

We'll see about that, she thought.

Finally! Elizabeth thought as she set off for home. Mrs. Turner was a dear old lady, but Lord, she could ramble on and on, and seemed to repeat the same stories of her youth every week. But at least Elizabeth had caught up on her visitation schedule, and that was a weight off her mind.

She looked up and was not surprised to see that the clouds had grown even more ominous in the hour she had spent with Mrs. Turner. Elizabeth had enjoyed observing clouds all of her life - when she was very young, she imagined fanciful shapes in them, and as she grew in knowledge, she became adept at forecasting the weather from them. Earlier today, she had noted that the clouds portended rain before tomorrow, but they had piled up even faster than she had expected. Still, she calculated, she had time for a gallop, and both she and Loki would enjoy it. Besides, they hadn't had a good hard ride for three days, and if it rained tonight, she might not be able to do it tomorrow, either. Since both Lizzy and Loki loved to gallop, she wore a special riding habit whose front and back panels concealed the culottes underneath that allowed her to ride astride.

The wind was picking up, and combined with Loki's top speed, her bonnet had no chance. But she had anticipated this, and it was securely tied, so that it merely streamed behind her like the tail of a comet, rather than blowing away. She reveled in the feeling of the wind in her hair. It was so exhilarating that she stayed out longer than she should have, until the first drops of rain told her that she was cutting it too fine. She turned Loki for home.

They were almost there when Loki's gait suddenly changed, but there was nothing but a straight open road ahead of them. Elizabeth, who had been well schooled by Mr. Murdock in her riding lessons at Netherfield, immediately brought him to a halt to see whether something might be amiss.

There most certainly was something amiss - Loki had thrown a shoe. Fortunately, she was not far from home, so Elizabeth was able to walk him the rest of the way without difficulty, but not before the rain started coming down in torrents. She reflected that it was fortunate that Longbourn's harvest was all in, but she felt sorry for the tenants of Netherfield who had not had time to finish theirs. For years, both Longbourn and Netherfield had hired extra hands to complete the harvest as quickly as possible for exactly such situations as this, but after Lady Rutherford had left, the man that the Duke of Mayfield had put in charge of Netherfield had not permitted Mr. Whitney to continue the practice. Like almost everything else not absolutely necessary, he considered it a waste of money. The miserly agent had considered himself vindicated for the last two years, when the crops were harvested without any problems, but this year his shortsightedness would cost the duke, who could afford it, but more importantly his tenants, who could not. She and her sisters would have to be especially attentive to their needs this autumn. Or could she perhaps persuade Mr. Bingley to help?

Elizabeth led Loki into Longbourn's stable, and informed Mr. Bailey of the thrown shoe. He promised that he would see to it right away, but Elizabeth, indicating the deluge outside, said, "It will keep until tomorrow, Mr. Bailey. It looks as if it will be too muddy to ride for the next day or two, and darkness will come early today. You go on home to Mrs. Bailey and make sure she has plenty of dry firewood." The groom thanked her for her consideration.

After stabling Loki, Elizabeth went straight to her room and changed into dry clothes. The rain had been cold even for October, but a cup of hot tea would quickly set her to rights.

As she entered the parlor, she began saying, "Oh, the rain is atrocious..." but stopped speaking when she noticed that Jane was not present. Strange, she had not been in their room, and it was miserable outside, so where was she? She asked the question aloud.

"Jane left for Netherfield about an hour and a half ago," said Kitty. "Mama made her ride Buttercup."

"An hour and a half ago?" cried Elizabeth. "But surely it was obvious by then that it would rain. Why did she not take the carriage? In fact, why did she go at all?"

Mrs. Bennet huffed and said, "You are not the only clever person in this house, Lizzy. Jane received an invitation to tea, and it also said that the men would be out of the house during the day. Now that it is raining, she will have to stay there for dinner, and perhaps even overnight. Mr. Bingley is already smitten with her, and I am sure that he will fall in love quite soon if he spends more time with her."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it and turned her face away to hide her dismay. She could not be disrespectful to her mother, no matter how severe the provocation. Both her father and Lady Rutherford had drilled into her from an early age that the surest way to make someone dislike you was to question their wits, and it was too late in any case. All she could do was hope that Jane had made it to Netherfield before the rain began, but she strongly doubted that was the case, for Buttercup had only one speed, namely slow. She could not even send the carriage, thanks to the driving rain. She looked out the window, and saw that if anything, it was raining even harder. The roads would be a morass by tomorrow.

Jane was about two thirds of the way to Netherfield when the heavens opened, so it made more sense to keep going than to turn around. As it was, she still arrived soaked and chilled to the bone.

Mr. Bates, Netherfield's butler, took one look at Jane and saw that she needed to quickly change out of her wet clothes. He led her to the parlor where Caroline and Louisa were waiting, and lingered just long enough to determine that those ladies were indifferent to her plight, except to exchange derisive glances at Jane's bedraggled appearance. Bates left the parlor and pointed at a footman. "Fetch Mrs. Nicholls at once," he said. "Tell her it is urgent."

Caroline and Louisa wasted no time in beginning their interrogation. Their plan was for Louisa to ask general questions, and for Caroline to follow up when she perceived a point of vulnerability.

Louisa began, "Has your family always lived at Longbourn, Miss Bennet?"

"I believe that there has been a Bennet at Longbourn for many generations, although my father was not the original heir. He was the second son, and was actually at Oxford when he got the news that his brother had died and that he had inherited Longbourn."

So he did not complete his education, Caroline thought. That was interesting.

"And what of your education? Have you been to a seminary?" Caroline followed up. She was extremely proud of having attended an exclusive seminary.

"No, I did not have that pleasure," said Jane politely.

"Did any of your sisters?" Caroline was really interested only in Eliza, but including Jane's other sisters in her questions would make it less obvious.

"No, none of us. I do not think any of us would have enjoyed being away from home."

Sour grapes if I ever heard them, Caroline thought.

"So you and your sisters never leave Hertfordshire?" Louisa asked in amazement.

"We sometimes go to town to visit our aunt and uncle Gardiner. Lizzy and I go quite often."

"Oh, how interesting! Where do they live in town?"

"Near Cheapside," said Jane. "My uncle likes to live near his warehouses."

Caroline and Louisa exchanged a look. Her uncle is in trade.

Caroline seized this chance to focus on Elizabeth. "So Miss Eliza is closer to you than your other sisters?"

Jane replied carefully, "I love all of my sisters, but Lizzy is the closest to me in age, so naturally we have more shared experiences."

This is taking too long, thought Caroline, and she abandoned the pretense of being interested in the other sisters. She wanted to find out whether this "Lizzy" had any attributes that Mr. Darcy might admire. She recalled that at dinner yesterday, he had told Charles that he should improve his library, for extensive reading was something he admired in a person.

"Does Miss Eliza read books?" she asked Jane.

Jane could not withhold a burst of laughter, for Lizzy read more books in a week than most people read in a year. She covered her mouth and reddened at her breach of manners, but before she could explain, Mrs. Hurst began speaking of a novel that she was reading, and Jane was too polite to interrupt her. Caroline took Jane's reaction to mean that the thought of Eliza reading a book was laughable.

"And how many languages does Miss Eliza speak?"

Jane felt flushed. Her head felt warm. She wished she could get out of these wet clothes. She now sensed that something was wrong, for the concentration on Lizzy seemed odd, and the questions were getting intrusive, but it was as if there were cotton in her head that prevented her from thinking clearly. Mr. Bennet had warned all of his daughters to be guarded about Lizzy's abilities, so Jane did not want to answer the question, but neither could she lie. She decided to plead ignorance, which was technically true, for although she knew that Lizzy spoke a great many languages, she did not know the exact number.

"I really could not say," Jane finally answered. Her flushed face and the length of time she took to give her non-answer told Louisa and Caroline that the answer was zero, and that Jane was embarrassed about it.

Truly, Caroline thought, it sounds as if she has no accomplishments at all. "Does Miss Elizabeth net purses?"

"No, she does not."

"Does she cover screens?"

"No." Jane was really beginning to feel uncomfortable. Why such interest in Lizzy?

"Does she paint tables?"

"No, she is not interested in such things."

"Then pray tell, how does she spend her time?" Louisa asked.

"She often visits the tenants. And she enjoys walking very much. I believe she often walks all the way to the top of Oakham Mount to enjoy the view."

"By herself?"

"Yes, she enjoys the solitude."

Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley looked at each other again. Caroline thought it very likely that Miss Eliza only pretended that she was walking such an improbable distance, and was more likely having an assignation with one of the men from the area. Perhaps "visiting a tenant" was how she earned extra pin money.

Well, thought Caroline, we have learned all we need to know about Miss Eliza, and it is even worse than I had thought. What of Jane herself?

"Since you did not attend a seminary, I assume you had a governess?" asked Caroline.

"No, although my younger sisters had a governess, Elizabeth and I did not. We –" she was interrupted by the arrival of Mrs. Nicholls, who took in the scene of Jane shivering in her wet clothes while the Bingley sisters ignored her discomfort, and was appalled. But she was a consummate professional, so she did not let her disgust show as she said politely to Caroline, "Excuse me, ma'am, but we have a warm bath and some dry clothing prepared for Miss Bennet."

Caroline was annoyed at this servant's presumption, but when she looked at Jane more closely and saw that she was starting to shiver, she had to admit that a change of clothing was called for.

After Mrs. Nicholls and Jane left, Caroline and Louisa compared notes.

"Louisa, it is far worse than I thought! That family might as well have been living in a cave! And that Miss Eliza! No governess, no seminary, no languages, no accomplishments at all!"

Louisa noted, "We did not ask about music."

Caroline waved her hand dismissively. "I hardly think that a woman who does not paint, does not cover screens, does not read, does not speak any languages, in fact, does not seem to do anything at all but walk around aimlessly or visit Cheapside, will turn out to be a virtuoso at the pianoforte," she said. "In fact, I am beginning to wonder whether she might be simple!" No wonder she grants her favors to one and all, she added to herself.

Dinner at Longbourn was a study in contrasts. Mrs. Bennet could not contain her glee, and Elizabeth could barely control her anger.

"I told you how it would be!" crowed Mrs. Bennet. "Jane was clearly invited to stay for dinner, and I am sure she will spend the night there as well. Mr. Bingley is sure to fall in love with her before the week is out!"

Her daughters did not share this enthusiasm, and were worried for their sister, but only Lydia, who was both too favored and too fearless to worry about repercussions from her mother, said, "If she was not struck by a falling branch and is lying unconscious in the woods even now."

"That will be quite enough, Lydia," said Mr. Bennet, but Elizabeth saw worry in his eyes. They had had no word from Netherfield, and Elizabeth didn't know whether that was good news or bad. They all jumped when they heard the knocker, and Elizabeth sprang up and headed for the front door, unable to wait for Hill to inform them who was calling so late.

As she expected, it was a messenger from Netherfield, whom Elizabeth recognized as young Frank Wilcox, who was thoroughly soaked. Elizabeth said, "Hill, please show Master Wilcox to the kitchen for some hot cider. I will take the message to father. Frank, please warm yourself in the kitchen until I see whether my father wishes to send a reply."

Wilcox nodded gratefully, and Elizabeth brought the note to her father, who opened and read it.

"Well, Mrs. Bennet," he said, "your scheme has worked perfectly. Jane was caught in the storm and has fallen ill, and will be staying at Netherfield tonight. I have no doubt that the sight of our daughter casting up her accounts will win Mr. Bingley's heart."

Mrs. Bennet, who had begun to preen, now looked uncertain. Mr. Bennet continued, "I bid you all good evening," and rose, giving Elizabeth a significant look that she knew meant he wanted to talk to her. He left the dining room, heading for his study.

Elizabeth said quite truthfully, "I seem to have lost my appetite. Please excuse me," and also left. She went to her father's study and knocked gently. "Come in, Lizzy," she heard through the door, and entered.

Mr. Bennet handed her the note, and said, "There is a postscript from Mrs. Nicholls."

Elizabeth read:

Miss Elizabeth,

Miss Jane was soaked to the skin when she arrived, and the women here did nothing to aid her. I got her into a hot bath and dry clothes as quickly as I could, but she became ill at dinner, and is asking for you. She says she has a mild headache and sore throat, which you know must mean that she has a terrible headache and sore throat. Please come if the roads permit.

Your friend,

Mrs. Nicholls

Elizabeth handed the note back to her father. "I will leave at first light, papa."

"But if the roads are too muddy..." her father began.

"The condition of the roads is irrelevant, for Loki threw a shoe today," said Elizabeth. "I shall walk."

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire, October 3, 1811

Elizabeth walked swiftly, but carefully. In spite of the mud, she walked almost as fast as she did on a dry road, for she was still so angry at her mother that she could scarcely contain her nervous energy. The sky was clear, and she was hopeful that the sun would dry the roads enough for her to take Jane home later today, but for now, they were a quagmire. She kept her eyes on the ground not only to avoid the worst of the mud and puddles, but to look for medicinal plants along the way, for she was taking an overgrown path she seldom trod, thinking the sparse grass would offer better traction than the bare mud on the main path. She had brought as much as she could carry from Longbourn's stillroom, and did not intend to stop to gather plants on the way, but she did intend to note any spots where the plants grew so that she could collect them later.

Thus it was that she did not see Mr. Darcy until she was almost upon him, only about 50 yards from the house.

"Miss Bennet!"

Elizabeth almost skidded to a stop with a small squeak. "Mr. Darcy! I did not expect anyone to be up this early."

"Miss Bennet, did -" he looked behind her, "did you walk all the way from Longbourn? By yourself?"

Elizabeth huffed. "As you see, sir. It is not a long walk for me, and I have no time to lose. We received a note that Jane was ill, so I set off at first light. Can you tell me how she fares?"

Darcy looked as if he were going to say something else, but then he visibly gathered himself and said, "Of course, you are obviously anxious for her. Allow me to escort you. May I carry your basket?"

Anything to get us moving, Elizabeth thought, and she passed over her basket as they started walking. Darcy reached casually for the handle, but he almost dropped it when it turned out to weigh much more than he expected. He said with a smile, "It was very considerate of you to bring bricks for your sister's bed warmer, but I assure you that Netherfield has its own supply."

Elizabeth was surprised that Mr. Darcy could tease. "Not this trip, sir, merely some tinctures from our stillroom."

"You are a skilled apothecary?" Still teasing.

Elizabeth looked away, and walked slightly faster. "We country folk know a few home remedies," she equivocated. "But sir, please tell me what you know of her condition."

"Only that she was caught in the storm and fell ill at dinner. My latest information is from last night, and at that time Mrs. Nicholls reported that your sister had a headache and might be coming down with a fever."

Just then they reached the paving in front of the main entrance and diverged, Darcy heading for the front door, Elizabeth heading left to the kitchen entrance. They both stopped as Darcy realized that Elizabeth was no longer beside him, and Elizabeth realized that Darcy still had her basket.

"Miss Bennet, where are you going?" he asked.

"To the kitchen, so that I can talk to Madame Beaumont, and so that I do not muddy the main entrance. If you can tell me which room Jane is in, I shall take the servant stair to the guest wing once I get the potions started."

Darcy recalled that Madame Beaumont was the cook. "Very well, I shall accompany you."

Again, Elizabeth grumbled to herself that his help was neither necessary nor desired, but again she did not want to waste time arguing with him. They set off, this time with Elizabeth in the lead, as Darcy was not precisely sure where they were going. But she clearly had no doubt of her direction, and led them straight to the kitchen door. As they entered, a woman barely over five feet tall and nearly three feet wide looked up from the sauce she was stirring and beamed.

"Mademoiselle Lizzy, ma petite chérie," she said as she bustled over and all but swallowed Elizabeth up in a warm hug, which was just as warmly returned, and continued in rapid French, I'm so sorry about your sister.

Elizabeth paled. Oh! What has happened?

Madame Beaumont immediately threw her hands up and looked chagrined. Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you. Nothing has happened, as far as I know, except that your sister took a chill. I only meant I was sorry that she was feeling poorly.

Elizabeth sagged with relief, and then smiled. I will give you a full report after I have seen her, but for now..., she paused as she turned and retrieved her basket from Mr. Darcy, set it on a table, and extracted a pouch containing ingredients she had prepared before she left Longbourn. If you would heat a quart of water and stir these herbs into it after it boils, and then send it up, I will be most grateful. I know from the note Mrs. Nicholls sent that Jane has a sore throat and headache, and these herbs will help those symptoms. After I examine her, I will very likely be back to make more specific concoctions.

Darcy had grown up with the best tutors that money could hire, and had always considered his French excellent, but the women spoke so rapidly that he could follow the conversation only with difficulty.

Of course, dear. Madame Beaumont then switched to English. "Millie!" She repeated Elizabeth's instructions to the kitchen maid, glancing at Elizabeth for confirmation, and added, "Take it straight up to Miss Jane's room when it is ready. You have no other duties until that is done, understand?"

Millie nodded and said, "Yes, Ma'am."

Elizabeth smiled at them both and gave Madame Beaumont another hug, and said, Thank you so much. I must go to Jane now, but I promise I will come back later and we can talk.

Madame Beaumont beamed again and said, You know where to find me, so there is no hurry. You just take care of your sister.

Elizabeth turned to Millie. "Millie, do you know which room Jane is in?"

"The Green Room, Miss Elizabeth," Millie said.

"Thank you Millie, I will see you there shortly."

Darcy had been observing all this in a bit of a daze. He considered himself an affable master who was not above conversing with the help, but Elizabeth showed more familiarity with Netherfield's servants than Darcy had with his own. He intended to speak to her further on the subject, but she grabbed her basket and headed into the depths of the kitchen.

"Miss Bennet!" he called, and she turned with an exasperated look on her face.

"Mr. Darcy, I thank you for your help, but I must see Jane now. I am sure I will see you later. If you wish to be of service, please inform Mr. Bingley that I am here, thank him for his care of Jane, and tell him that I shall greet him properly as soon as I can." She gave a quick curtsy and disappeared around a corner, no doubt heading for some door he would not find even if he tried to follow her. He mused, She not only knows where the Green Room is, she knows the servant stairway to the guest wing. He was not sure whether he should be impressed with that, but he was.

Elizabeth stole quietly into the Green Room, and felt a strange combination of happiness to see her sister, and alarm at how pale she looked. The maid sitting near the bed, whom Elizabeth recognized as Sally Wilcox, the older sister of the messenger sent to Longbourn the previous evening, began to rise, but Elizabeth motioned to her to keep her seat. Jane appeared to be sleeping, but her eyes opened instantly when Lizzy gently laid her hand on Jane's forehead to feel her temperature.

"Oh Lizzy, I am so glad you are here!"

"Jane, I am so sorry. If I had not dawdled on my way home yesterday, I would have been there in time to stop Mama's silly scheme."

Jane started to protest, but Lizzy stopped her. "Leave it for later, dearest. I know your throat is sore, so you should not talk any more than absolutely necessary, and our mother's plots are certainly not worth an exception. Save your breath to tell me where you hurt, and how badly. And for the love of God, do not be brave and minimize your pain; I must know exactly what is wrong if I am to help you get better."

Jane complied, giving a general listing of her symptoms, which Lizzy narrowed down with skillful questioning. About five minutes into this, Millie knocked softly and entered without waiting for a response, bearing a steaming kettle and some cups from the kitchen. Lizzy rummaged through her basket and put a pinch of a powder into one of the cups before filling it from the kettle. She stirred it carefully, then helped Jane sit up so she could drink it. "Now Jane, this will help you sleep, and should also ease your headache. I cannot do much about the taste, but it is not much worse than the tea Mrs. Goulding serves."

Jane smiled weakly at the jest, and dutifully sipped at the brew until she had drained the cup.

Lizzy took the cup from her and said, "Good girl. Now, as I am here without invitation and have not yet spoken to Mr. Bingley, I must go and greet him, but I believe he is too amiable to order his footmen to throw me out of the house, so I will be back very shortly. Sleep if you can; I will be here when you wake."

Jane nodded and closed her eyes. Lizzy quickly transferred the contents of her basket to the bedside table, then selected a couple of small bottles to take to the kitchen with her. She took a moment to do what she could about her hair and her muddy hem, then gritted her teeth and headed for the breakfast room so she could explain to her host what she was doing in his house.

Darcy had found Bingley and his relations in the breakfast room after he left the kitchen, and he told them that Miss Elizabeth was attending her sister. Bingley was pleased for Jane, but Caroline had rather a different take on it.

"Miss Eliza walked here?" Caroline Bingley asked in astonishment.

"I believe that is what I just said," Darcy replied as he sat down to begin his own breakfast. "Bingley, she said that she would be down to greet you properly after she has seen to her sister, and asked me to thank you for the care you have given her."

"Trust a country girl to barge into a home without invitation, and without even greeting the mistress," Caroline huffed. "It is not enough that her sister has already disrupted our house. Why, only yesterday I spent hours with the cook planning menus and authorizing grocery purchases," she said, watching Darcy out of the corner of her eye as she tried to impress him with her household management skills. "And now all my plans are in disarray, as we have another mouth to feed. And I shouldn't be surprised if it turns out that there will be yet another, for that Miss Eliza will no doubt want to stay here as well."

She continued, "And just by the way, Charles, you promised me that Netherfield had a French cook, but when I spoke to her in French she seemed confused, and told me that it would be easier for her if I spoke in English. I am quite sure that she is only pretending to be French to command a higher salary."

Darcy pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, and he noticed the footman standing by the door doing the same.

"Surely a competent mistress can handle the demands of two petite women," said Bingley. "They are both welcome to stay for a month if that is what is needed."

At that moment, Elizabeth walked into the breakfast room. She gave no sign that she had overheard any of the discussion, but Darcy wondered at the coincidence of her entering just after the only kind comment made about the Bennets in the last two minutes. Darcy and Bingley immediately jumped to their feet. Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and Caroline looked at her in shock as they took in her disheveled hair and muddy hems.

"Miss Elizabeth!" cried Bingley. "Darcy told me you had come to visit your sister. How is she?" He seemed genuinely concerned, which immediately put him in Elizabeth's good books.

"I would call her condition serious, but not grave," said Elizabeth. "She is resting now, and she is quite ill, but I have every hope that she will recover in a matter of days."

Elizabeth observed the reactions of everyone to this news. Bingley looked both anxious and relieved; Darcy looked relieved; Mr. and Mrs. Hurst looked uninterested; and Caroline looked put out.

Bingley quickly said, "Of course, she must stay here until she is fully recovered. And you are welcome to stay with her. Caroline, is not the room next to Miss Bennet vacant?"

Caroline looked even more put out, but she could not look ungracious in front of Darcy, so she gave an obviously false smile and said, "Yes, of course. I will see to it at once." Darcy happened to be looking at the maid as she refreshed his coffee, and noticed that she smiled when she heard this. Is everyone in this house a friend of Miss Elizabeth?

Charles said, "Miss Elizabeth, we have sent for the apothecary, and if he thinks it advisable, I can also send for my physician in London."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "That is most generous of you, sir, but I do not think we will need either gentleman at the moment."

"But surely we must at least have her looked at by the apothecary, Miss Elizabeth," Bingley said. "Besides, he has already been sent for."

Elizabeth did not wish to argue, so she just said, "I thank you, Mr. Bingley, you are all kindness. I just wanted to let you know of Jane's condition. I will speak to Madame Beaumont, and then return to Jane." She curtsied and left.

"Who is Madame Beaumont?" asked Caroline.

Darcy noticed the maid smirk, and deduced that it was in disdain for the mistress of Netherfield. She would be well advised to avoid playing cards for money, for her thoughts are easily read, he mused. Aloud, he said dryly, "I believe that Madame Beaumont is the cook with whom you spent all those hours yesterday. Miss Elizabeth has enlisted her aid in preparing some treatments for her sister."

Caroline huffed. "Does it not seem strange that Miss Eliza says there is no need for an apothecary, but that her sister must remain here for several days? Do you not think she is afraid that the apothecary will find that the illness is feigned?"

Mr. Bingley looked severe. "I think no such thing, Caroline, and it does you no credit to suggest it. I think that Miss Elizabeth simply wants to spare us any trouble and expense she can."

Darcy privately agreed, but he had to admit there was an inconsistency between the evident concern Elizabeth showed for her sister, and her dismissal of the need for an apothecary. It was hard for him to believe that the Bennet sisters were scheming to be housed at Netherfield, but he had not survived nearly ten years of society matrons' machinations without developing very sensitive antennae.

Caroline was having none of it. "Oh Charles, sometimes I wonder how you can walk a single block in town without giving all your money away to beggars. You are so naive! You have no idea of the lengths some women will go in order to entrap an eligible bachelor."

I do not doubt that you are an expert on the subject, Darcy thought.

Bingley drew himself up to respond, but they were interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Bates, who said, "Mr. Jones is here, sir."

At Bingley's blank expression, the butler added, "The apothecary, sir."

"Oh, yes, of course, show him in," said Bingley.

Mr. Jones strode in briskly. He was a tall, lean man in his fifties. He took in the room with an all-encompassing glance, then looked questioningly at the three men, not sure which was which. Bingley quickly alleviated that, saying, "Mr. Jones, welcome. I am Charles Bingley. Allow me to introduce my good friend Mr. Darcy, my brother-in-law and sister, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, and my sister Caroline."

Mr. Jones bowed and said, "Very pleased to meet you all. And which is the patient?"

Bingley said, "Miss Bennet is upstairs."

"Miss Bennet?" Jones asked. "Miss Jane Bennet?"

"Yes, I assume you know her?"

"Of course I know her," Jones said. He muttered, "I wish someone had told me. I could have had my breakfast first."

He did not mutter quietly enough, for everyone heard him. Darcy looked angry. "What do you mean by that? Explain yourself, sir."

Caroline had an evil gleam in her eye. "Are we to understand, Mr. Jones, that Miss Bennet is prone to claiming illness where there is none?" She looked triumphantly at Charles.

Mr. Jones looked amused, and gave something between a laugh and a snort. "Miss Jane Bennet? You are clearly not from around here. Why, Miss Jane could have a bone poking out of her thigh, and she would only apologize for getting blood on your carpet." He muttered to himself again, more softly this time, but Darcy thought he heard something like, "...wouldn't say poo if she had a mouthful."

At the horrified look on the women's faces, Mr. Jones realized that his gruff country manners, tolerated by his regular patients of necessity, were not winning the esteem of the London swells. He attempted to salvage the situation. "Ah, what I meant was, if Miss Bennet is ill, then her sister will be taking care of her, and if Miss Elizabeth is taking care of her, there is no need for me. Miss Elizabeth is a very competent healer." He looked at Bingley. "Am I correct in assuming Miss Elizabeth is attending her even now?"

"That is correct," said Bingley.

"And may I also assume that she told you there was no need to send for me?"

"She did," said Bingley sheepishly.

Mr. Darcy joined the discussion. "However, she has been here for less than an hour, and was only told we had sent for you a few minutes ago." He had to ask. "Is she really so skilled?"

Mr. Jones chuckled. "Oh, aye. She knows every root and herb, every compound and recipe, every bone and organ, and seems to have an unerring instinct about what ails the patient. If my own wife were ill, and my treatments were not working, I would consult with Miss Elizabeth before anyone else I know. And her attention to the tenants of Longbourn and Netherfield has very likely saved lives, for I am the only apothecary in the area, and sometimes people are most inconsiderate in scheduling their illnesses. I cannot be in two places at once, but Miss Elizabeth greatly reduces the necessity."

He looked around to see everyone gaping at him. "Well, ah, I suppose that I should check in on her, if only to see whether she needs any supplies. Did she say what ailed Miss Bennet? Oh, never mind, I will find out soon enough. If someone can show me the way to her room?"

"I will take you there," said Darcy. "I was about to go up to my own room to speak to my valet," he improvised.

Darcy and the apothecary bowed to the ladies and ascended the stairs. As the men approached Jane's room, they could indistinctly hear a woman's voice. The door to Jane's room opened and Millie came out of it, carrying a tray with an empty kettle. Darcy could now hear the voice more clearly, and recognized it as Elizabeth's. She was evidently reading to her sister, and after a moment, he recognized the text as A Midsummer Night's Dream. Odd, he thought, when he was carrying Elizabeth's basket, he had looked in it to see what made it so heavy, and saw that it was filled with bottles and vials of what he assumed were medicines. There had been no book in it. And when he had looked for something to read in the poorly stocked library the previous evening, the only Shakespeare he had found was a tattered copy of Twelfth Night.

They paused at the door, which Millie had left open when she saw Mr. Jones coming. Jane was lying in bed with her eyes closed, and Elizabeth, with her back to the door, was applying a wet cloth to Jane's forehead as she read to her. Darcy knocked gently on the jamb, and Elizabeth turned to the door. "Mr. Jones is here...," Darcy began, but he trailed off as Elizabeth stood and smiled at Mr. Jones. She released Jane's hand which she had been holding, and put down the cloth she had held in her other hand. She clearly had not been holding a book. She must have been reciting the play from memory.

Who was this woman, who walked three miles through muddy fields to care for her sister, who had the respect and affection of servants of neighboring estates, whose medical knowledge was praised by the apothecary, and who apparently knew Shakespeare by heart? Who stared down rich and powerful men, who spoke French like a native, who danced like a muse, and who made him feel like a small boy when she scolded him? Darcy had never met anyone like her, and he found himself pleased that she might be spending several days at Netherfield.

UIUI

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviews, favs, or follows. Constructive criticism is welcomed.