Uncommonly Intelligent Chapter 12: First Skirmish, a pride and prejudice fanfic

Chapter 12: First Skirmish

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire, October 3, 1811

"I thank you for your assistance, Mr. Darcy," said Mr. Jones as he entered Jane's room and then closed the door firmly in Darcy's face. Darcy shook himself. What had he been thinking, almost following the apothecary into Miss Bennet's bedroom? He had not been thinking at all; that was the problem. He had seen Miss Elizabeth's smiling face and been drawn to her like a bee to a blossom.

He sighed and walked back to his own room. He was glad to see Billingsley there, for he really did need to speak to him.

"Billingsley, how are you getting on with the servants here?"

After over ten years as his valet, Billingsley was uncannily perceptive when it came to Darcy. He looked at his master skeptically and asked, "What is it that you are really asking?"

Darcy smiled ruefully. "You know me too well. I was wondering whether you might be able to learn what the servants know about Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Another one? What makes the fortune hunters so thick on the ground here?" Billingsley looked at Darcy sidelong. "Have you been stuffing your wallet into the front of your breeches again?"

Darcy held up his hand with his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "You are this close to being fired for insolence. I should have dismissed you without reference years ago, but my tender heart could not bear the thought of you starving to death, for I know that you could never find another employer as tolerant as I."

Billingsley smirked. "Tender heart, indeed. What I really fear is that one day you will learn to tie your own cravat properly." His tone turned more thoughtful. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Was not the lady who fell ill yesterday Miss Jane Bennet?"

"Indeed. And before you jump to conclusions, I suspect neither woman of being a fortune hunter, at least no more than anyone who wants to make a good match. Certainly they are not in the same category as Miss Bingley. If anything, Miss Elizabeth is sometimes rather curt with me, though Lord knows she has cause, for I made a terrible first impression on her. I would simply like to know more about her, for she is a most unusual woman."

"And what makes you think that the servants here would know about her?"

"That is one of the unusual things. I have observed that some of them seem very happy that she is staying here. She also has an intimate knowledge of the structure of this house, which makes me think that she was close to the former occupants. Given her age, I wonder if they had children that she played with years ago."

Billingsley was intrigued. In all his time with Darcy, he had never seen his eyes soften like this when he talked about any woman other than his sister Georgiana. Wild horses could not now keep him from finding out all he could about this Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

"Well, Miss Lizzy, I had best be on my way," said Mr. Jones. He had taken a quick look at Jane, and then he and Elizabeth had adjourned to the room just made up for her, so that Jane could sleep while they discussed the case. As expected, he had agreed with everything that Elizabeth was doing for Jane, and also agreed that she should not be moved for a day or two at least.

"How are you traveling, Mr. Jones? I thought the roads would be too muddy for your phaeton."

"Indeed, I am riding today, though the roads are better than I expected. While it rained for several hours yesterday, only the first hour was really heavy. And today there is not a cloud in the sky, and the sun was warm on my face, so with any luck the roads will be suitable for carriages tomorrow."

"Oh, I hope so," said Elizabeth, looking ruefully at her muddy hem. "I desperately need my family to send me a trunk with some clean dresses. Miss Bingley was quite scandalized at the sight of me this morning."

Mr. Jones lowered his voice so that the maid sitting by the window could not hear. "Aye, you should keep an eye on that one," he said. "She as much as accused Miss Jane of feigning her illness."

Elizabeth was shocked. She had overheard part of Miss Bingley's complaints about her in the breakfast room earlier, but she had not expected the hostility to extend to Jane, who was the sweetest person in the world. "May I ask how those remarks were taken?"

Mr. Jones ran the scene through his mind. "The two younger men were offended for Miss Jane. The ... Hursts?" he raised an inquiring eyebrow, and when Elizabeth nodded, he continued, "The Hursts seemed not to care."

Mr. Darcy had taken Jane's part? Elizabeth was gratified to hear that. She really must apologize to Mr. Darcy for being so short-tempered with him this morning; her worry about Jane and her anger at her mother had made her act quite out of character, and she felt Mr. Darcy's similar explanation of his ill manners at the assembly resonate with her as it had not done before.

"Mr. Jones, will you by chance be passing by Longbourn?"

"Indeed, it is on my way. Would you like me to deliver a message?"

"If you would be so kind. Let me just write it out; it won't take a minute."

"Take all the time you need, Miss Lizzy. Mr. Bingley is paying for this call."

Elizabeth smiled at him, for Mr. Jones was the least mercenary man she knew. He often took little or no payment from his patients among the tenants and servants, and Lizzy thoroughly approved of him making up for that by charging full fees to a man who would never miss the money.

She quickly wrote a note to her father, updating him on Jane's condition; advising him that she and Jane would be staying at Netherfield for a few days; asking him to have Mary pack a trunk for them and send it to Netherfield as soon as the roads permitted; and added a postscript for her younger sisters, asking them to help Mary fill in for her on tenant visits. She knew that Kitty and Lydia would grumble, but they would do it in the end, for they were good girls. She was glad she had got caught up on her visits yesterday.

With a final bow, Mr. Jones opened the door and exited the room. Elizabeth had barely started exploring her room when there was a crisp knock at the door, and Elizabeth nodded for the maid to open it. She gave a happy gasp of surprise when she saw Mrs. Nicholls enter. Apparently the housekeeper had ordered the footman in the hall to notify her as soon as Mr. Jones left. The two women embraced, and Lizzy said, "Oh, Mrs. Nicholls, it is so wonderful to see you! Thank you so much for your note last night. I am sure it is you I have to thank for the care Jane has received here."

Mrs. Nicholls gave Elizabeth a final squeeze before releasing her. She then turned to the maid and said, "That will be all for now, Sally." Sally curtsied and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"I was so happy to hear that you would be staying here, Miss Lizzy." Mrs. Nicholls held Elizabeth at arms length and looked her up and down, her eyes lingering on her muddy hem. "But I have seen you looking better. I have already sent a note to Longbourn telling them that you arrived safely, but that you will be staying here and need a trunk sent."

Elizabeth laughed. "Well, they will certainly take it seriously, for Mr. Jones is even now bearing the same message." She grew more solemn. "Is it really true that those women did nothing to help Jane until you intervened?"

Mrs. Nicholls also grew serious. Her affection for Elizabeth and Jane warred with her professional pride in her discretion regarding her employers. Gossiping about the mistress was simply not done. But as on the previous evening when she had written her note to Elizabeth, her nominal loyalty to the Bingleys, who after all were only tenants rather than owners, could not compete with the knowledge that Miss Jane's health might depend on Miss Lizzy knowing all the facts.

"Miss Lizzy, I feel I must warn you about Mr. Bingley's sisters, especially Miss Bingley, for she seems to set the tone for both of them. I already told you of her inconsideration to your sister, and she has also been overheard saying unkind things about you behind your back, though I'm sure I don't know why."

Elizabeth said, "I thank you for the warning, but I am already aware that she dislikes me, and I don't think it's personal. While I cannot be certain, I believe that she has set her cap for Mr. Darcy, and she probably dislikes any single woman who might distract him."

Mrs. Nicholls nodded. "That would explain it, and I daresay you are right, for she fawns over Mr. Darcy outrageously, though I have not noted him giving her any encouragement. Just be careful. That Miss Bingley is a strange one. Sally found a mutilated cushion when she was cleaning her room. She said it looked as if a wolf had savaged it."

Elizabeth could not resist. "A wolf?" She made her eyes large and said almost in a whisper, "Last night was the full moon. You don't suppose Miss Bingley is ...?"

Mrs. Nicholls, country born and bred, looked alarmed, but only for a moment, for Elizabeth could not keep a straight face, and burst into laughter. Mrs. Nicholls looked at her reproachfully, and said, "You and your pranks! I am not getting any younger, Miss Lizzy, and I daresay you just took another year off of my life." But her smiling eyes told Elizabeth that she was not angry.

"Now," Mrs. Nicholls said, "while Miss Jane is sleeping, get out of that muddy dress and give it to me. I will have it laundered, and meanwhile I have sent for a maid who will alter your sister's dress for you to wear today. It has already been cleaned and pressed."

Elizabeth smiled at the grey-haired woman fondly. "Mrs. Nicholls, what would I do without you?"

"I am sure I do not know, but no doubt it would involve mischief." She then put on what Jane and Lizzy had always called her "stern face." Lizzy had first seen it when she was caught playing hide-and-seek in the servant passageways some fifteen years earlier, and she wondered what it might portend now.

"But I will tell you what you will not do, and I will brook no arguments from you," said Mrs. Nicholls. "You will not cloister yourself in Miss Jane's room, taking your meals on a tray and sleeping in a chair at her bedside. You will sleep in the bed provided for you here. You will go outside and walk in the garden twice or thrice a day when the weather permits, or at least go down to the library when it does not. You will eat your dinner in the dining room unless there is a true emergency with Miss Jane."

Elizabeth started to protest, but Mrs. Nicholls cut her off. "No, Miss Lizzy, you must stay healthy and rested so that you can treat Miss Jane properly should a true emergency arise. She will be well attended, I assure you. There are four maids assigned to Miss Jane, six hours per day each, so that the one attending her will always be awake. They will let you know instantly if she calls for you, or if her condition changes, or if she seems in any distress. They will ensure that she can have a glass of water in the blink of an eye, and that whatever potions you have prescribed for her are prepared and delivered as scheduled."

Her stern face got even sterner. "And they have strict instructions to make sure that you are absent from Miss Jane's room for at least one hour during their shift. I suggest that hour would be an excellent time to walk in the garden." She looked at Elizabeth defiantly, as if daring her to argue.

Elizabeth knew better than to do so, but one point wanted clarification. "Does Miss Bingley know that four maids are to be devoted to Jane?"

Mrs. Nicholls looked away. "A competent housekeeper does not trouble the mistress with minor details," she equivocated.

Elizabeth's eyes shone as she gave the woman another hug. "You are too good, Mrs. Nicholls. I am forever in your debt."

"Nonsense," was the reply. "You can hardly think that your attention to Netherfield's tenants has gone unnoticed. But if you wish to thank me, then do as I told you. Do not exhaust yourself caring for Miss Jane, for she would be the first to say that you must look after yourself as well."

Elizabeth bowed her head. "I can see that I am outnumbered. But may I make one request? May I have a writing desk put in Jane's room, so that I can talk to Jane while I work on my correspondence?"

Mrs. Nicholls affected exasperation. "Oh, very well, I should have known that I could not keep you from working while you are here," she huffed, but again, her eyes were smiling.

There was a soft knock on the door, and when Mrs. Nicholls opened it, Lizzy saw a pretty, dark-haired girl in the hallway, with a sewing basket in one hand, and Jane's dress from yesterday hanging over her other arm.

"Miss Elizabeth, this is Esmeralda," said Mrs. Nicholls. "She is a skilled seamstress, and will have Miss Jane's gown looking as if it were made for you in no time. I will see you later," she said as she left the room, but not before giving Elizabeth a pointed look and concluding, "perhaps after your walk in the garden."

Esmeralda curtsied and greeted Elizabeth in accented English. From the few words she spoke, Elizabeth thought she might be Spanish or Portuguese, for refugees from both countries had made their way to England after the French invaded the Iberian peninsula. Tossing a mental coin, she tried greeting the maid in Portuguese first, and was rewarded with a brilliant smile.

Oh! You speak Portuguese! cried Esmeralda.

Not so well as I would wish, for it is difficult to find someone to practice with. I would be very grateful if you would indulge me during my stay here, Elizabeth said.

You speak it very well, and it would be my pleasure to speak with you any time you like, said Esmeralda. Would you like to converse while I fit your gown?

I would like that very much, said Elizabeth in complete sincerity. She enjoyed both the chance to practice her language skills, and the chance to learn about people and places outside of England.

Esmeralda made quick work of altering Jane's dress, for in none of her dimensions was Elizabeth larger than Jane, so it was much easier to take the waist in, or shorten the hem, than had it been Jane trying to fit into Elizabeth's dress. Elizabeth noted with displeasure that the gown was cut lower than she would like. No doubt mama selected this dress for precisely that reason. Elizabeth's bosom was about the same size as Jane's, but her shorter stature and smaller waist made it look fuller, and she was self-conscious in this dress.

Although she had not been told to do so, Esmeralda was so enjoying conversing in her native tongue that she offered to fix Elizabeth's hair as well, and Elizabeth readily agreed. The maid would have been pleased enough to continue discussing light topics, but Elizabeth's genuine interest and empathy soon had her telling Elizabeth all about her former life in Portugal, and the terrible times that followed the French invasion, culminating in the utter destruction of her family's modest farm when a scorched-earth policy was adopted to prevent the enemy from foraging.

As they fled ahead of the invaders, her family was forced to sell off their valuables one by one to enable the older siblings to escape with their children to Brazil, until only four remained: Esmeralda, her unmarried brother Paulo, and their parents. Six months ago her parents told Esmeralda and Paulo that they had decided that with no end to the war in sight, they must split up. They had arranged for Paulo and Esmeralda to be smuggled to England aboard a series of fishing boats. The children protested, but the parents were firm.

But how will you live, mama? Paulo had said. Their father was nearly 60 and not hale. Their mother was a bit younger, and had once been a sorceress with needle and thread who taught Esmeralda everything she knew, but now her hands were gnarled by arthritis.

I have my jewelry, mama had replied. It will be well, and someday after the war is over, we will all be together again. But the children knew that almost all of her jewelry except for her wedding ring and her family's heirloom emerald earrings, for which Esmeralda had been named, had already been sold. Their father nevertheless assured them that he had friends near the border who would help him.

At their tearful farewell, their father had given Paulo two small money pouches. One had reals and francs for the continental leg of their journey, and one had some English currency for when they reached their destination. It was not until after they reached England that Paulo found his mother's earrings and wedding ring in the bottom of the pouch of English currency. Their parents had sacrificed everything to save their children.

I am quite sure they are dead, Esmeralda said, tears leaking from her eyes.

Surely there is hope?

Esmeralda shook her head sadly. No. Without money and with no way of earning it, they would starve to death, and my father would not put my mother through that. I suspect that they took their own lives the day we parted.

Elizabeth knew that Esmeralda was probably right. Her own troubles suddenly seemed paltry by comparison.

Where is your brother now?

He is in London. He is working as a day laborer at the docks, but often there is no work, Esmeralda said sadly. He is very strong, but he has no English, for he was working in the fields from a young age. I have little English myself, but at least my mother taught me some when we sewed together.

Does he have no other skills?

He is very good with horses, and a very good shot. He was the best hunter in the area, for he has eyes like an eagle, and...

They were interrupted by a knock at the door, and a maid Elizabeth didn't recognize told Esmeralda that she was wanted by Miss Bingley. Esmeralda looked stricken as she realized that she had lost track of the time, and quickly curtsied to Elizabeth and started to hurry out, but Elizabeth said, "Wait a moment, Esmeralda." She moistened a handkerchief and gently wiped Esmeralda's face to clean up the signs that she had been weeping. Esmeralda smiled her thanks and bustled out, almost colliding with a footman who had just appeared. Elizabeth worried that he had been sent to bodily carry Esmeralda to Miss Bingley, but instead he announced that he had a writing desk for Elizabeth's room, and asked where she wanted it placed. Elizabeth protested that the desk was meant for Jane's room, but the footman shook his head and explained that there was a second desk in the hallway waiting for Elizabeth's authorization to place it in Jane's room, but that this desk was for Elizabeth's room. Elizabeth realized from the speed at which they had been delivered that Mrs. Nicholls must have already ordered them before they spoke, and she shook her head and smiled to herself. For all her life, and with all her intelligence, she had always been a step behind that dear woman.

Elizabeth spent some time organizing her new room, and then began writing some detailed notes to her father regarding the harvest. While there was never a good time, in some ways this was the worst possible time for Jane to be ill, for the contracts to sell the crops would not wait, and were the single most important source of Longbourn's income. But she had all the information she needed in her head, and was experienced with the contracts and the buyers, so it was tedious but not difficult to write out everything her father and her uncle Phillips would need to draw up the contracts without her. By the time she was through she had half a dozen pages of closely written instructions, with only a few inches on one side of one page left blank. She smiled to herself and filled the forlorn space with a postscript begging her father to please send a trunk of clothing to Netherfield, to add to the similar requests he had already received from Mr. Jones and Mrs. Nicholls. She sealed the thick envelope and called for a footman to have it delivered to Longbourn, then after a brief stroll up and down the hallway to stretch her legs, she looked in on Jane.

Jane had appeared asleep, but even though Elizabeth made no sound as she entered, Jane opened her eyes as if she could sense Lizzy's presence. Elizabeth inquired about her symptoms, mixed some fresh potions, and talked with Jane for a while, at one point telling the maid in attendance to busy herself elsewhere for half an hour so that she could tell Jane what she had learned about Miss Bingley. Jane was grieved to learn what Elizabeth had overheard from Miss Bingley's own lips, and told Lizzy about the intrusive questioning and peculiar concentration on Lizzy during the tea the previous day.

When the maid returned she said, "Begging your pardon, Miss Elizabeth, but Mrs. Nicholls asked me to remind you that dinner will soon be served in the small dining room. She also said that Madame Beaumont had a surprise for you."

Charles Bingley had overruled his sister regarding the dining arrangements. Caroline had wanted to have dinner served in the formal dining room, but Charles thought that was nonsense, for the table there seated 20, and their party was only five. The small dining room had a table for eight, so even if Miss Elizabeth joined them, it would be perfectly adequate, and they wouldn't need to bother with seating arrangements, since everyone could converse with everyone else at such a small table.

Darcy regretted that Miss Elizabeth would have to wear her muddy dress to dinner - not that he minded, for he considered it a badge of honor that she was so devoted to her sister, but he feared that Caroline Bingley would be merciless in her criticism. He rather hoped Miss Elizabeth would stay in her room and call for a tray to spare herself unpleasantness, even though he would enjoy seeing her. But he was pleasantly surprised when she entered the small dining room wearing a beautiful, pristine gown that showed her figure to great advantage. He noticed Miss Bingley's scowl at seeing Miss Elizabeth looking so well.

"Miss Elizabeth! How is your sister?" Bingley asked.

"I believe her fever has broken," said Elizabeth, taking her seat. "She is still quite weak, but the crisis has passed."

Caroline Bingley was clearly not interested in Jane. She started in on Elizabeth as soon as everyone was seated. "Mr. Darcy, I must apologize again for the quality of our library. I know how much you value extensive reading." She turned to Elizabeth and was about to speak to her when her brother interrupted.

"You will be glad to know, Darcy, that in response to your complaint, I sent a message to my agent in London, instructing him to send me enough books to fill the shelves," Charles said. "And knowing you, I told him to be sure to include books on estate management and intellectual topics."

"That is very kind of you, Bingley, but you should please yourself in regard to the selection."

Caroline, trying to steer the discussion back to where she could attack Elizabeth, said, "Nonsense, Mr. Darcy. It would not hurt Charles in the least to read something substantial." She turned toward Elizabeth again, and this time got her question out without being interrupted. "Pray tell, Miss Eliza, what have you been reading lately?" She and Louisa exchanged smirks, recalling that Jane Bennet had laughed at the thought of Eliza reading a book.

Elizabeth caught this interplay, but did not know what to make of it. What was Miss Bingley about? Had Jane inadvertently said something that made her think that Elizabeth was a blue-stocking? A woman like Miss Bingley might consider intellectual women to be unfeminine, but then why her emphasis on improving one's mind? It did not add up.

Well, she supposed it didn't matter. As it happened, most of the books she had been reading lately were abstruse philosophical treatises in German, and never mind that they did not lend themselves to light dinner conversation, even mentioning them would sound pretentious. But fortunately she had a non-threatening choice ready to hand. "I am going on a tour of the Lake District next summer with my aunt and uncle, and I have found a marvelous book of engravings of that region by a Mr. Wilkinson. I love traveling to new places above all things."

Caroline tried to mask her irritation. She had hoped to have Eliza admit that she did not read books, but evidently the Lord loved fools, and by sheer luck Eliza had happened to have a book that she had opened only because of her upcoming trip. It is likely the only book she has opened in the last year, and she as much as admitted that it is merely a picture-book, not a real book. But for all of that, it was still an acceptable answer.

Even so, Eliza had opened herself to a different attack.

"Would that be the uncle who lives by his warehouse in Cheapside?"

It was now clear to Elizabeth that Caroline was maliciously trying to lower Mr. Darcy's opinion of her, but she could not strike back. Jane's health depended on it. Even if moving Jane back to Longbourn was not a risk in itself, Netherfield was quieter, and Longbourn did not have four maids it could devote to Jane. It took no great imagination to think of Caroline ordering them out of the house if she fought back, and no good could come of putting Mr. Bingley in the middle of such a dispute.

She told herself that she could be civil even though her hostess was not. She only had to endure this a few days. Once Jane was out of danger, there would be plenty of time to put Caroline in her place. She tried to invoke her inner Jane, who was all serenity. I am a leaf in the wind. I will let the unpleasantness pass over me. She thought of Esmeralda, who had real troubles, and suddenly Caroline's machinations seemed almost laughable.

"Yes, my Uncle Gardiner," she said sweetly.

Satisfied that she had scored a point by having Eliza acknowledge her relations in trade, Caroline continued down her mental checklist. "Your sister tells me that neither you nor she had a governess," she said. "Is that not rather extraordinary for a gentlewoman?"

"I really could not say," said Elizabeth, now immune to Caroline's hostility. "But my father encouraged us to learn whatever we wished, and provided the means for us to do so."

Darcy could see that Caroline was trying to goad Elizabeth into a temper, and that Elizabeth was not rising to the bait. He reflected that Caroline could not have chosen a worse approach to winning his esteem.

"Ah yes, your father," continued Caroline. "I understand that he was forced to leave Oxford when he inherited?"

"Indeed," said Elizabeth, now actually enjoying Caroline's crass attempts to humiliate her. "He was most reluctant to leave it, for he was very fond of the place." She looked at Darcy with an impish grin. "He still speaks very highly of it."

Darcy, recalling their banter at the assembly, smiled back at her. He held up his fist and uncurled one, two, three, four fingers, once again upholding the honor of Cambridge. Elizabeth laughed, to Caroline's utter confusion, and to Darcy's delight. The woman was literally indomitable. Caroline's barbs had not touched her.

For her part, and in spite of her confusion over the last exchange, Caroline was well satisfied. Even though she could not provoke the insipid Miss Eliza, who had turned out to be more docile than she would have thought, she was sure that she had made her point to Mr. Darcy. It was inconceivable that he would be interested in a poorly-educated woman who read only picture-books, and whose favorite uncle was in trade. She turned to Mr. Darcy to begin a discussion about his Christmas plans, dropping broad hints regarding how charming Derbyshire must be in the winter, and she ignored Miss Eliza for the rest of the meal.

The dinner was delicious, as was all of Madame Beaumont's cooking, but there was nothing unusual on the menu, so Lizzy wondered at Mrs. Nicholls' hint of something special. The mystery was solved when Millie brought in a tray of lemon tarts for dessert. Madame Beaumont's tarts had long been Elizabeth's favorite treat. Elizabeth beamed at Millie, and said quietly, "Please thank Madame Beaumont for me." Darcy, attuned to every word Elizabeth said, overheard this, and gathered that the cook had made the tarts especially for Miss Elizabeth.

Millie began serving them around the table. Caroline had been speaking in low tones to Louisa, but when a tart was placed in front of her, she looked at it and said to no one in particular, "What is this? That was not on my menu." She turned toward Millie and was about to begin berating her when Darcy quickly spoke up.

"Miss Bingley, how delightful!" he said. "Did Charles tell you how much I enjoy lemon tarts?"

Charles looked at Darcy blankly, and Caroline, flustered, replied, "You are our honored guest, Mr. Darcy. I hope they please you."

Darcy took a small bite and smiled blissfully. "Indeed, these are excellent. I hope you serve them often." Elizabeth was a bit puzzled at his enthusiasm, until Darcy caught her eye and did something extraordinary. He winked at her.

Elizabeth quickly brought a napkin to her lips to hide a giggle, but her dancing eyes were the reward Darcy had sought.

After her second lemon tart, Elizabeth begged to be excused. "I must check in on Jane, and then I believe I will retire early. I did not sleep well last night for worry over my sister."

Given the almost empty library, Darcy also elected to turn in early, and though he expected it, he was gratified that Billingsley was waiting for him in his room. "Were you able to find out anything?"

"Yes and no," said Billingsley. "It is rather strange; the servants who know Miss Elizabeth well are proud and protective of her at once. At first they are happy to claim an acquaintance, but if they perceive that her privacy is being invaded, they shut down tight as a clam."

"So tell me the 'yes' part."

"It appears that you were correct in your guess that the Bennet girls spent a great deal of time here as children." He paused. "Did you know the late Lord Rutherford?"

Darcy thought for a moment. "I cannot recall ever meeting him, though we must have attended some of the same events. But I heard some rumors about him."

Billingsley nodded. "From what I can gather, he settled his wife and son here while he lived in town. Never stepped foot in the place himself. Everyone speaks very highly of both Lady Rutherford and her son. The Bennet sisters were playmates with Clarence, for that is the son's name, when they were all children, and evidently also became close to Lady Rutherford, for they continued to visit frequently when Clarence was away at Eton and Cambridge.

"All of the Bennet sisters are admired by the servants, for many of them are sons or daughters of Longbourn's or Netherfield's tenants, and the Bennet sisters make regular visits with gift baskets."

"What? They visit Netherfield's tenants?" Darcy asked.

"Yes, apparently Lady Rutherford was a very kind mistress, but when she left and the place was closed down, the man the owner left in charge cut expenses drastically, so the Longbourn ladies started ministering to Netherfield's tenants as well. Miss Elizabeth is especially respected, for she serves as the de facto apothecary."

This accorded with what Darcy had heard Mr. Jones say, but Billingsley went on, "And though it is hard to credit, it seems to be the worst-kept secret in Hertfordshire that she is the true master of Longbourn Estate, at least outside the residence. Her father signs the contracts, but she makes the decisions."

"It is not so hard for me to credit."

"Indeed? You know Mr. Bennet?"

"No. But I am coming to know Miss Elizabeth."

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire, October 4, 1811

Elizabeth awoke feeling much better than she had the previous morning. She had not been lying when she said that she had slept ill the night of the storm, but last night she had slept quite soundly knowing that Jane was being watched over by maids who had known them both for over a decade.

Her walking dress from yesterday had been laundered and returned to her, so she put it on and silently entered Jane's room, pleased to see that Jane was sleeping peacefully and the maid was not. She pantomimed to the maid that she was going for a walk outside and stole down the stairs to take a turn around the garden, vowing to stick to the paved pathway and avoid any remaining puddles.

As it happened, there were none. The sun had done its job well yesterday. She hoped that meant that her trunk could be delivered today.

She heard a horse a short distance away, and looked up to see Mr. Darcy trotting Balius toward the stables, apparently just returning from a morning ride. He saw her at the same time, and wheeled his horse toward her, then apparently thought better of it and signaled to her what she thought meant "stay there," and continued to the stables, but a moment later he emerged on foot and walked quickly toward her.

After exchanging greetings, Elizabeth said, "You needn't have rushed over here, Mr. Darcy, for I was heading for the stables myself to see how Buttercup fares." They began walking toward the stables together.

"Buttercup? Is that your horse?"

"She is the horse that Jane rode here. If you wish to recognize her, seek the horse who looks the least like yours," she smiled.

Darcy chuckled. "Not a thoroughbred, eh?"

"She is a sweet girl, but like Miss Helen, rather past her prime," Elizabeth said, and then frowned. "I am still furious with my mother for making Jane ride her. A stupid, stupid scheme to force Jane to stay for dinner." She blushed, and then said, "I should not have said that out loud, but I am sure you saw through it. My mother started planning Jane's wedding to Mr. Bingley the moment he asked her to dance."

Darcy said nothing, not knowing whether to be shocked at Mrs. Bennet's ruthlessness, or impressed by Elizabeth's candor. After a moment, Elizabeth said, "Which brings me to you, Mr. Darcy."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I owe you an apology. Yesterday morning I was so angry at my mother and so worried about Jane that I was quite uncivil to you when you were only being kind, and I wish to apologize for it. And to tell you that the silver lining is that although you were already forgiven for your bad mood at the assembly, I now understand your own apology in a much deeper way."

Darcy waved his hand. "I thank you, but the circumstances are in no way comparable. I was abominably rude, while you were not uncivil at all. The very worst one could say is that you were merely civil, rather than warm. And you were justifiably concerned for your sister, while I was only whinging about my own discomfort."

Elizabeth looked up at him. "We shall not quarrel over who is the most horrible. Besides, if you are keeping score, you must give yourself ten points for ensuring a plentiful supply of lemon tarts during my stay here." She narrowed her eyes. "Do you really like lemon tarts?"

"I do, though I must admit that cherry tarts are my favorite."

"I will speak to Madame Beaumont," Elizabeth said. "Such service deserves a reward." She then giggled, looked at Darcy, and then quickly looked away.

Darcy said, "What is it?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I cannot tell you. It is just me being horrible again." She entered the stable and walked over to Buttercup's stall, but Darcy did not give up.

"Well now you must tell me, or my imagination will likely assign a much worse crime to you than you deserve."

Elizabeth shook her head again, and Mr. Darcy said, "If you do not tell me, I will tell Miss Bingley that I detest lemon tarts."

Elizabeth laughed and said, "You see, we are both quite horrible, for that is very close to what I was thinking. Very well, I shall tell you. I wondered what would happen if you told Miss Bingley that your favorite dish is rat pie."

Darcy laughed out loud, which made Elizabeth start laughing again, and that was how Mr. Murdock found them. He wondered what was so funny about Miss Bennet's horse.

Jane slept until nearly noon, which Elizabeth was happy to see. She was breathing much more easily. Elizabeth was telling Jane about the strange dinner when she heard a carriage arriving at the front door. She went to the window and looked down, and was delighted to see her family's carriage stopping at the front entrance. Even better, Loki was tied behind it. And even better than that, two large trunks were strapped to the top.

"Oh Jane! It is papa with the carriage!"

Jane, misunderstanding, asked, "Am I to be removed to Longbourn?"

Elizabeth walked back to the bed. "No, dearest. I want you to remain in bed for today, and then over the next few days we will start building up your strength with short excursions around the room, then the hall, then downstairs, and then in the garden. But papa has brought a trunk for you so that when you are able to leave your bed, you will have some nice gowns to wear, for I know that he has been reminded at least three times to do so." Her eyes suddenly became mischievous. "In fact, this is how you shall greet papa..."

Caroline and Louisa, who were in Caroline's upstairs sitting room, observed the arrival of the carriage with its two trunks atop. When Caroline recognized Mr. Bennet as he stepped out of the carriage, she huffed, "I knew how it would be. Those women appear determined to remain here until Christmas." They elected not to go downstairs to greet Mr. Bennet.

Charles and Darcy, however, had also been alerted by the sound of the carriage and were waiting in the entrance hall to greet the man. "Mr. Bingley," said Bennet as he set down a satchel stuffed with documents and extended his hand. "On behalf of my family, I wish to thank you for the extraordinary kindness you have shown to my Jane."

Bingley enthusiastically shook Bennet's hand, and said, "It is no trouble at all, I assure you, sir. I only hope that she is feeling better soon."

Darcy also extended his hand, and was about to speak when Elizabeth came flying down the stairs. She observed that Darcy and Bingley were present and checked her pace near the bottom of the steps, then walked sedately over to her father and said with a curtsy, "Good afternoon, father."

Mr. Bennet merely nodded his head and said in a bored tone, "Elizabeth."

Darcy wondered at the lack of warmth, until father and daughter both laughed and embraced. "Oh papa, I'm so glad you came!"

"Yes, well, a man can hide in his library for only so long," Bennet chuckled, but then he sobered. "How is Jane?"

Elizabeth stepped back from her embrace and included the other men in her answer. "I believe the worst is past. Perhaps one more day in bed, and then she can begin testing her strength."

Bingley smiled broadly. "That is wonderful news, Miss Elizabeth," and Darcy, though not nearly as jovial, nodded agreement.

"Is she awake?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"She is, and is eager to see you."

Bennet turned to Darcy and Bingley. "Well, gentlemen, I suppose that I should strike while the iron is hot. I will be pleased to speak with you later, but let me again express my deepest gratitude, and extend an open invitation to you to ride and shoot all you like on Longbourn's grounds, and after Jane is back home, to have dinner with us at your earliest convenience."

Bennet and Elizabeth entered Jane's room to see her sitting up in bed. Elizabeth could tell that Jane's throat was much improved, as she was now able to speak in almost normal tones as she recited the lines Elizabeth had given her.

"Papa! How nice to see you! By any chance, did you happen to remember to bring a trunk for us?"

Instead of answering her, Mr. Bennet looked at Elizabeth over his glasses. "Lizzy, do you remember when we visited Oxford a dozen or so years ago, and I introduced you to my friend Mr. Haskell?"

Elizabeth nodded, wondering at the question. Had her father's good friend visited him? Oh! Had he died?

"Well," said Mr. Bennet, "I believe that he is the only person of my acquaintance who has not reminded me to bring a trunk to Netherfield."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "That is all well and good, but it does not answer the question. Did you remember?" Her father had once misplaced his glasses shortly after his fiftieth birthday, and it was a running joke between them that he had entered his dotage.

"On this occasion, I did." He indicated his satchel. "I also remembered to bring the documents you requested. And I had the happy thought that it would be easier for both of us if you could dash over to Longbourn for an hour now and then to receive and deliver and explain documents, so I brought Loki along. I am getting too old to ride him as much as he likes, so this will give the both of you the opportunity for exercise."

Elizabeth was delighted at this. "I spoke with Mr. Murdock only this morning when I went to visit Buttercup. He has plenty of room for him in his stable."

Some time later, Mr. Bennet found Darcy and Bingley in the library, going over a map of Hertfordshire. "I wanted to thank you again before I left, Mr. Bingley." He looked around at the almost bare shelves. "Oh, how the mighty are fallen. This used to be a magnificent library," he lamented, aloud but to himself.

Darcy picked up on this. "Were the former occupants great readers, then?"

Bennet nodded. "Lady Rutherford is great in every sense of the word," he replied.

As he had the previous evening, Bingley proclaimed that he had sent for books to stock the shelves, and Mr. Bennet nodded and said, "That is well. The room looks quite naked without books."

He looked at the map on the table, and added, "If it would aid you, I have much more detailed maps of the local region in my study. I should be glad to have Lizzy fetch them for you this afternoon or tomorrow."

Darcy was confused. "Miss Elizabeth is leaving with you?" Has Miss Bingley driven her away after all?

Bennet said, "No, but I brought her horse with me so that she can run errands between the estates." Darcy had been unaware of that, for when he had seen the carriage approaching from the parlor window, it had been head on to him, so that the horse behind it was not visible. But based on what Billingsley had told him the previous evening, he surmised that those "errands" might involve Miss Elizabeth's duties running Longbourn, and he knew that harvest season was a critical time. He had already offered his aid to Mr. Whitney in salvaging Netherfield's harvest, and he noted that Mr. Bennet had evidently left his satchel of documents with Miss Elizabeth, so he volunteered, "With your permission, Mr. Bennet, my own horse wants exercise, and I should be happy to act as courier should Miss Elizabeth find herself unable to leave her sister."

Bennet looked at him keenly, and said, "You are a perceptive man, I think. Your assistance is appreciated, Mr. Darcy."

Bingley felt that he was missing something, but he put in, "Yes, of course Mr. Bennet, we would be happy to assist your daughters in any way."

Bennet could not help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Yes, well, don't forget that you are welcome at Longbourn any time, Mr. Bingley. I believe that Mrs. Bennet will be especially pleased to see you."

Elizabeth was working on the contracts in Jane's room when she again heard a carriage approaching the entrance. She did not recognize it when she looked out the window, but she saw that it had several boxes lashed to the roof. Curious, she walked downstairs and saw Mr. Bingley talking with a man she did not know.

"But I thought you said it would take at least a week," Bingley was saying.

"Aye sir, we thought that the oil was spilled all over the carriage and soaked inna the wood. But when we pulled the squabs, we found that whoever did it, they only poured the oil on them and not the floor. So once the squabs was out, it aired out right quick, 'specially with the strong winds we had a couple of days ago. And we was lucky to find new squabs for it lots quicker'n we thought, too. So when your man told us he had a shipment of crates that you needed right away, we decided to kill two birds, so to speak."

"Well, that's marvelous news, I must say. I'll have Caroline get you men settled directly." He looked at Elizabeth. "We had some trouble with my coach in town, Miss Elizabeth," he explained, "but it's all fixed now."

Elizabeth looked out the window at the carriage, with its two fine horses. Two more horses. Three, with Loki. Hmm...

As Elizabeth was petting Loki, Mr. Murdock strolled over. "Good day, Miss Lizzy. It is very nice to see you again. How is Loki?"

"As frisky as ever, Mr. Murdock. In fact, he threw a shoe a few days ago, but Mr. Bailey has set him to rights," she replied. She looked around the stable. "Your stable is filling up rapidly."

"Aye, miss."

"And your helpers seem quite young," she noted.

"Yes, the word that the house was let came quite suddenly, and I had to scramble, for Mrs. Nicholls only gave me three days to prepare the stables. But they are good boys, and they seem to be learning quickly."

"What if I told you that I knew of a young man who is very good with horses, and is in need of a position?" she asked.

"I would be interested indeed, if you will vouch for him."

Elizabeth was forced to shake her head. "I have not met him. But let me tell you a story," she said.

She told Murdock about Esmeralda and her family's hardships, embellishing it slightly with some of what she had read of atrocities committed by the French invaders, and by the time she was finished, Murdock had agreed to give Paulo a try. "If his ability with horses is exaggerated, I am sure we can find a position for him somewhere on an estate this size," said Murdock.

Elizabeth beamed at him. "Thank you, Mr. Murdock. You are a good man," she said.

Darcy was in the library, perusing the books Bingley's agent had sent, which for the most part were still in their boxes. The man had done as Bingley asked, and there were some excellent new books on estate management, as well as a good assortment of science, history, classics, art, and philosophy. Bingley walked in and looked at the many boxes sitting on the floor.

"Why did they send so many boxes?" Bingley asked Darcy. "Why not just two or three trunks?"

Darcy replied, "Try picking up one of the boxes."

Bingley tried and succeeded, but only with effort. "Oof! I had no idea books were so heavy."

"Imagine a large trunk full. I doubt two men would be able to lift it."

Movement from outside made him glance toward the window, and he saw Miss Elizabeth walking toward the house from the direction of the stables. He surmised that she had visited the horse Mr. Bennet had delivered, and had a momentary vision of Miss Elizabeth and himself riding together at Pemberley. He shook his head ruefully. She was a fascinating woman, no doubt, but not of his sphere. For all her crassness, Miss Bingley's revelation of the uncle in trade had thrown cold water on Darcy's fledgling thoughts of a future with Miss Elizabeth. Though how Miss Bingley could think that her own even closer connection to trade didn't matter was quite beyond him.

Still, he thought, there was no reason that Miss Elizabeth and he could not be friends, just as he was with Bingley. And, he thought with a sudden thrill, there was no reason that she and Georgiana could not be friends. She was a gentlewoman, after all, and if her ability to laugh when she had worries and responsibilities was something she could teach Georgie… He needed to talk to her.

Trying to be casual about it, he positioned himself near the library's open door so that he might hear when she entered the house. As he expected, she had a cheerful greeting for the doorman, making her entry easy to discern. He left the library and ambled toward the stairway, intending to accidentally meet her at the bottom, but instead saw only her back as she walked quickly down the hallway toward the door to the servants' area. He could hardly follow her, nor could he wait stupidly in the entrance hall with the doorman there, so he continued up the stairs, but once at the top, he loitered there, for no one was about. He would accidentally encounter her on his way back down the steps when he heard her coming.

He heard the servants' area door open and close, but again when Elizabeth came into view, she was facing away from him as she walked back toward the front entrance with Mrs. Nicholls by her side. They paused in the open doorway, and Mrs. Nicholls nodded as Elizabeth pointed out a spot in the garden. Elizabeth proceeded out the doorway, and Mrs. Nicholls turned back into the house in the direction of the servants' quarters.

Curious, Darcy decided to see what he could see from the window of his room, rather than follow Miss Elizabeth around like a baby duckling. He was in luck, for he was able to see her sitting on a bench not far from the house. It was behind some low hedges, so that although it was concealed from the path, it was visible from his window. She seemed, not exactly nervous, but excited. After a few minutes, a slender dark-haired girl in a servant's dress approached her, and Miss Elizabeth leaped to her feet and took her hands. Darcy could not tell what they were saying, but the dark-haired girl looked stunned, and then, astonishingly, kissed Miss Elizabeth's hands.

This was too much for Darcy. He had to know what was going on. He left his room and walked quickly down the stairs and out the door, heading to where he last saw Elizabeth. As he approached the spot, he heard an excited voice in what he thought was Spanish, but though he knew the language, he could not quite understand it. Then the dark-haired girl emerged from behind the hedge and rushed past him, her eyes streaming tears though she was smiling brilliantly. He continued on and found Elizabeth by the bench, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief which seemed to be running out of dry spots.

"Miss Elizabeth, allow me," he said, offering his own handkerchief. She looked up, startled, then embarrassed, and turned her face away.

"Mr. Darcy, forgive me, I must look a fright," she said, but accepted the handkerchief.

"Not at all, but you do look upset," he answered. "May I be of any assistance?"

"Thank you, sir, but no, I am well. These are tears of happiness."

"I saw another young woman as I approached, who also looked tearfully happy. I assume she is a good friend of yours?"

"I met her only yesterday, but I do believe we are friends now," said Elizabeth.

"Then I surmise that you did her a great service."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I did next to nothing. I merely asked a favor of Mr. Murdock."

Slowly and patiently, Darcy extracted the story from Elizabeth.

"But why did she not ask someone before this?" he asked.

"I do not know. Perhaps she did," Elizabeth replied. Darcy mentally kicked himself. Of course servants were always trying to get their siblings hired, and of course it could rarely be done. Nor was it unknown for an owner or steward or even a senior footman to demand the highest price a young maid could pay, and then renege on his promise to hire her sibling. And have her fired if she tried to make trouble.

Elizabeth continued, "Or perhaps her own position is so precarious that she did not want to presume too much. Or perhaps it is because she has only been in the country a short time, and does not yet have a good command of English."

Darcy nodded. "Yes, I thought I heard her speaking Spanish just now, but I could not quite make it out." He smiled at Elizabeth. "I am beginning to wonder about my tutors."

Elizabeth laughed. "I am sure your Spanish is excellent, Mr. Darcy, but Esmeralda is Portuguese."

Darcy was taken aback. "You speak Portuguese?"

Elizabeth looked away. "I can get by in it."

Darcy chuckled. "I am coming to know you, Miss Elizabeth, so I will take that to mean that you are fluent." Elizabeth said nothing, so he continued, "By the way, I also had trouble following your conversation with Mme. Beaumont the other day. Dare I hope that she was speaking some mountain dialect of French?"

Elizabeth laughed again. "I am sorry, Mr. Darcy, but Mme. Beaumont is a pure Parisienne. But I will allow that she speaks very rapidly when she is excited." She gave her eyes a final dab and said as she handed his handkerchief back to him, "Were I at home I would launder this for you, but I thank you again for your kindness. And now I must get back to Jane, for I have been too long away from her."

She curtsied and walked quickly back to the house.

Inside, Miss Bingley was sipping tea in the parlor, and happened to look out the window as Eliza emerged from the hedge. Then her eyes narrowed as she saw Mr. Darcy emerge a few moments later. Apparently, Mr. Darcy has not been warned off after all, and is still sampling that trollop's favors. She set her cup down so hard that it nearly broke the saucer.

Darcy was as confused as he had ever been in his life. An hour ago he had been quite certain that there could be nothing between Elizabeth and himself. Now he realized that he was half besotted. This latest revelation confirmed beyond doubt that unlike the women of the ton, Elizabeth minimized her accomplishments, rather than exaggerating them. Perhaps it was true that all she had done was ask a favor, but in order to know that a favor was needed, she had to be fluent in Portuguese, and also have the generosity of spirit to listen to the problems of a woman she barely knew - indeed, a servant she had met only yesterday - and go out of her way to help her, even when she had heavy worries and responsibilities of her own. Not to mention that she must have gained the respect and trust of Mr. Murdock, whom Darcy judged a difficult man to impress, in order to have her petition even considered, let alone instantly granted. He doubted there were two such people in all of England, and yet she had passed it off as "next to nothing." He contrasted that with Caroline Bingley seizing credit for the lemon tarts ten seconds after she had learned of their existence. He knew very well that there were hundreds like Miss Bingley, and all of them together were nothing to Miss Elizabeth.

There was simply no other woman of his acquaintance who was so accomplished, and yet so reticent regarding her accomplishments. Except one…

He went to his room and took pen and paper from his writing desk, and began,

My Dearest Georgiana...

A/N: Thanks to everyone who follows, faves, or reviews, especially with constructive criticism.