The next day Jane was again much improved and Elizabeth sent up a swift prayer for her safe recovery and for their hopefully speedy removal from Netherfield. She sat on the side of her sister’s bed and smiled at the colour that had returned to her face. Jane was always beautiful, ill or otherwise, but she once again looked like her usual serene self and it made Elizabeth’s heart swell to see her so well recovered.
"You look like yourself again, dearest," she said, taking hold of Jane’s hand and squeezing it lightly.
"It is all down to you, Lizzy and the kind attention of the Bingleys and their servants," she said brightly, smiling at the maid who was refreshing her water jug. "You have been a treasure, Polly," she added sincerely.
"It’s my pleasure, miss," said the slight young girl, bobbing much deeper than was necessary before hurrying out of the room.
"There now, you have charmed everyone in the household," said Elizabeth with a raised eyebrow. "Particularly, its young master…"
"Oh Lizzy, please do not say such things. Someone could hear. Mr Bingley has only acted like a gentleman ought."
"Well, that gentleman is particularly pleased you will join us for dinner tonight."
At that, Jane threw a pillow at her smirking sister. Elizabeth dodged it easily and chuckled.
"Now, now dearest, violence is never the answer."
Jane shook her head and said, "Enough of that, tell me of life downstairs. I feel I have been in this bed for months and I would be glad to hear about anything that has not occurred inside these four walls."
"Well, let me see," said Elizabeth, tapping her finger against her lip. "Mr Darcy is glowering his usual amount, which is to say, almost constantly. Miss Bingley follows him around like a particularly shrill tiger hunting her prey. And Mr and Mrs Hurst ingested such an enormous amount of port last night, that the poor butler had to refill two decanters and looked rather stricken about it."
"Elizabeth Bennet!" Jane reprimanded. "That is most unkind."
"It is the unvarnished truth, dearest. But I suspect everyone’s rough edges will be dulled by your loveliness and sweetness tonight. Even my own. Now let us get you ready for dinner."
???
Dinner was unusually rich, even by Netherfield’s indulgent standards, but as Elizabeth suspected that Mr Bingley had ordered such a feast in honour of Jane, she could not find the energy to be annoyed by it. As she watched him settle Jane’s shawl around her shoulders, she felt she could withstand any volume of rich cream sauces and poor company to see her sister so happy. The delight Jane found in Mr Bingley’s company shone out of every pore and, for them, the rest of the room seemed to disappear as they lost themselves in each other’s conversation.
The wider party also seemed softened by Jane’s presence. Miss Bingley directed what appeared to be a sincerely kind comment or two at "dear Jane" and Mr and Mrs Hurst were blessedly quiet—perhaps chastened by the amount of rich food and drink they had consumed the night before, which had been prodigious.
Only Mr Darcy seemed unaltered. He spent little attention on Jane and Mr Bingley, instead turning his stern features on Elizabeth who had found herself unhappily seated beside him. He said nothing throughout the meal, but she felt his eyes upon her, even as she engaged in light small talk with the rest of the party.
"Miss Elizabeth," he said at last, several courses in.
She pasted on a polite smile and turned to him, "Yes, Mr Darcy?"
"You do not like the food."
"Excuse me?"
"The food, you have eaten so little. I cannot like it."
"Sir, I beg you, do not concern yourself with my eating arrangements."
"But you do not like it?"
She dropped her voice to an undertone, "It is simply a little rich for my liking. But as I said before, sir, please do not concern yourself."
"Perhaps if you tried the chicken…"
Trying to speak as firmly and as quietly as possible, she hissed, "My eating habits are not your concern, sir. Nor are my reading habits. My habit of taking an early morning walk. Or of sitting too close to the fire. You have an opinion on everything I do and it is most infuriating."
"Infuriating?" Mr Darcy said in shock, his tone rising so that everyone at the table turned to look at them. He looked horrified at the insinuation.
"My dear Mr Darcy," said Miss Bingley, wide-eyed from the head of the table. "Is all well? I know Miss Eliza’s opinions can be a little challenging."
"It was nothing, Miss Bingley… I merely, uh, caught my elbow on the table."
