Elizabeth knew from the first time meeting Miss Bingley that the woman was vain, proud, and superior—but she had never expected that a woman with a fortune as large as hers could be capable of such vulgarity. To accuse her to her face of scheming, to call her a hussy—Elizabeth’s fingers clenched into fists once again, leaving little half-moon marks on her palm.
The uttergallof that woman. Thenerve.
Although the expression of shock on the gentlemen’s faceswassomewhat humorous,she thought with a wry smile.
Just when she thought she would have had to defend herself, Bingley had come to life.
She would never have thought it of him—gentle, pleasant Mr. Bingley, whose eyes sparkled only when looking at Jane and who always seemed ready to be talked over or led astray by his sister. Elizabeth had imagined him as a puppy, incapable of sustained conviction.
But today… today he had been a wolf.
He had spoken with passion and anger, not just on Jane’s behalf but on hers as well. And not even when Miss Bingley had appealed to Darcy—especiallynot then—had either man wavered.
It had meant something, that kind of defense. More than she could say.
She reached the guest wing and paused outside Jane’s door. The fire was low but steady within, and a young maid was tucking the extra pillows into place on a nearby chair.
“Is she awake?” Elizabeth asked quietly.
The girl curtsied. “Only just, miss. She asked for water a few minutes ago.”
Elizabeth nodded her thanks and stepped inside. Jane lay pale and drowsy, her golden hair spread over the pillow, her cheeks flushed with fever. She smiled faintly when she saw her sister.
“You are still here.”
“Of course I am still here,” Elizabeth said, crossing quickly to her side. She brushed a damp curl from Jane’s forehead and pressed her lips together. Still far too warm. She forced a bright smile. “Where else would I be when my dearest sister lies ill?”
“Are we to go home now, then?”
Elizabeth scowled. “No, we are to remain. Mrs. Nicholls is preparing the blue room for you, which I understand is more convenient and comfortable. There is to be good broth and better linens, and I daresay you will be positively smothered in pillows before the hour is out.”
Jane blinked, a small crease forming between her brows. “But... I wasn’t invited to stay. Miss Bingley said—”
Elizabeth took her hand and squeezed gently. “Miss Bingley’s opinion has been thoroughly dismissed byMisterBingley.”
Jane blinked again, and Elizabeth smiled. “Truly, Jane. We have both been invited to stay, for as long as needed. Mr. Bingley has been made fully aware and is in control of the situation.”
Lips curving up slightly at the mention of Bingley’s name, Jane said, “I hope I have not caused too much of an inconvenience for anyone.”
Elizabeth gave a soft laugh. “You have no idea.”
At Jane’s worried expression, Elizabeth began to recount what had occurred downstairs. She did not wish to upset her sister or injure her tender feelings, especially when she was feeling so poorly, but she knew that it would be worse hearing it from a servant’s gossip.
A quiet knock came at the door just as Elizabeth had finished recounting the tale. One of the housemaids stepped into with a tea tray.
“Miss?” she said softly. “Mr. Bingley asked me to tell you that the blue room will be ready within the hour, and he sends his compliments and hopes Miss Bennet will be more comfortable there.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you.”
The girl curtsied and withdrew.
Elizabeth looked down at Jane, whose large blue eyes were misty at the idea of someone treating Elizabeth so cruelly. Her chest tightened, and she shook her head at the mess Miss Bingley had created. She was grateful Mr. Bingley was doing what he could to remedy the situation, but was it too little, too late?
As she began to spoon tea into her sister’s mouth, an image of Darcy’s face floated into her vision. His expression, grave and intent, had not wavered once while his friend spoke, nor while she herself had answered Miss Bingley. There had been no embarrassment in his countenance, no polite attempt tosoften the truth—only a steady certainty that surprised her now as much as it had then.
She shook herself and stood straighter, drawing in a breath. There would be time enough to consider Mr. Darcy later. For now, Jane needed her.
∞∞∞
