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The ladies sat down at opposite sides of their father’s knee desk, to write some letters. By agreement, Jane directed her first note to the rector, Mr Delaney, who had been appointed by Mr Bennet’s uncle before their father had even inherited Longbourn. It seemed ironic that the old parson had survived the new master. Mr Delaney was too ill to preach regularly, usually delegating that role to his curate on anything other than an especial occasion like Christmas. But he did manage to shuffle from his bed every day and sit in a chair by his fire to compose the sermons for his curate, Mr Elliot, to deliver every Sunday.

Elizabeth directed her first quick note to the undertaker in Meryton, before taking longer to compose a letter to Charlotte. Mr Collins had elected to spend what was to be the last night of his visit to Hertfordshire at Lucas Lodge, ostensibly because the Bennets’ carriage was overcrowded. Lizzy begged her friend to relay the news to Mr Collins as she thought fit. No doubt he would wish to delay his return to Kent in order to attend the funeral; possibly he would arrive tomorrow and demand they leave the house. She would put nothing past the man.

After completing the letter to the rector, Jane started on her second missive, begging their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner to journey from London to support the Bennet ladies in their time of affliction. Finally, all the letters were sealed and deposited on the salver, ready for John Coachman and Mr Hill to deliver in the morning.

An hour before dawn, the sisters sought their bed and hugged each other in their sleep.

Elizabeth woke in the morning from a terrible dream, but as her thoughts crystallized in her mind, she realised that her nightmare was reality. Turning over, the pain in her chest and her leg intruded on her notice. She was unable to stifle a groan.

“Oh, Lizzy!” said Jane, starting up from the pillow. “You’re awake!”

“Yes. Did you sleep, Jane?”

“Only for a couple of hours. I have been lying here trying to go back to sleep so that I would not wake you. What are we going to do?”

“Beyond the funeral arrangements, I dare not think. No doubt, Mr Collins will turn up today and give us some indication of our fate. I have failed you all most horribly. Not only have I tossed aside the chance to keep a roof over our heads, I have annoyed him at a time when we are most dependent on his charity.”

“Do not blame yourself, Lizzy. We had no idea this day would arrive so soon. I can only be glad that Mr Bingley’s attention spared me from making the same decision. It is too much to sacrifice one’s soul for one’s family. But there is hope, Lizzy. Mr Bingley spoke to me last night, and said he would visit me today on a matter of great import…”

“Do you think it is possible he will make you an offer, Jane?”

“Oh, Lizzy, I sincerely hope so,” replied her sister. “But come now, let us dress. I believe Lydia and Kitty are up.”

The morning light revealed the extent of Elizabeth’s hurts. Her ankle was swollen and black, and she had a matching large bruise on her left side.

More arnica was applied, and Jane laced her stays very loosely. Although Lizzy initially thought herself unable to walk at all, she discovered she could hobble about after donning a pair of sturdy walking boots.

Thus attired, the sisters repaired downstairs to discover, to their surprise, that their mother had preceded them to the breakfast parlour. Kitty and Lydia were also at table, waited on by a sleepy Sarah. Elizabeth noticed that her youngest sisters looked subdued and concluded that their mother had apprised them of events. After last night’s hysterics, Elizabeth and Jane could only wonder at their mother’s calm demeanour and exchanged puzzled glances.

“Well, Lizzy and Jane, I see you were busy last night,” said Mrs Bennet, dipping her toast in her tea. “Thank you for making the arrangements and apprising the Gardiners. I was surprised that you should be writing to Charlotte, Lizzy, since she is on our doorstep every other day of the week; but after reading your letter, I am now in command of the facts. I must say I was concerned when Mr Collins took himself off to the Lucases. And his carpetbag too, so Hill informs me! Using their carriage because ours is too crowded, my foot! So, he is engaged to Charlotte Lucas! Well! I hope she can be easy with her conscience, snatching him away before Mary had her chance! I suppose she apprised you of her perfidy at the ball, or had the two of you arranged it between yourselves before that?”

Elizabeth had opened her mouth to protest at her mother’s unsealing and reading of her letter, but at this accusation of conspiracy she deflated. Lizzy had expected her mother to be upset about Charlotte’s disclosure of her betrothal. It did seem doubly shocking now in the light of their father’s death. Meekly she said, “No, Mama. Charlotte told me last night, but I did not want to spoil your evening.”

“Well, if Mr Collins is still there, I suppose it is better that he finds out by our information than by hearsay. I only hope that Miss Lucas is a good friend to you. Aye, and to us also, for she has spent many hours under this roof! But I am determined not to think on it. It is no use… crying over… spilt milk,” Mrs Bennet said haltingly.

Elizabeth, who had expected to again be scolded for her refusal of Mr Collins, was confounded by this speech, but thankful her mother appeared to be dealing with their situation so well. Mindful of the pain in her chest, Lizzy sat down gingerly as Jane poured her a cup of tea.

Composing herself, Mrs Bennet heaved a great sigh. “We must band together and think for tomorrow, girls. Lydia has told me something more of your escapade last night, Lizzy, and as your sole surviving parent, I believe I am within my rights in asking Mr Darcy to do the right thing and marry you.”

“Mother, that is ridiculous!” said Elizabeth, alarmed at this new development.

“Au contraire! Several people saw Mr Darcy manhandling you before you went over the balcony. No doubt it is the talk of the town today!”

“He was doing nothing of the sort, Mama,” said Elizabeth, glaring at Kitty and Lydia who must have been the source of this gossip. “He merely tried to prevent me from falling. What a poor way to thank a gentleman for a chivalrous act!”

“Talking will pay no toll, Lizzy,” retorted Mrs Bennet. “Mr Darcy has compromised you and must make things right, and so I have told him!”

“Mother,” said Lizzy, paling, “what have you done?”

“I have written to Mr Darcy this morning, requesting a response by this afternoon.”

“Mother,” said Jane, who was now looking almost as perturbed as her sister. “This is not wise. You are upset and should not act hastily. Where is the letter?”

“John Coachman took it off with the other letters for Meryton. Mr Darcy should have it by now if he is out of his bed. Hopefully all will be settled before the sun goes down.”

Lizzy and Jane looked at each other in alarm, knowing there was no way to retrieve their mother’s communication.

Unconsciously, Jane brought her hand to her brow, shielding her face, but this action only infuriated her mother who burst into a litany of self-justification: