When breakfast was over, the Bingley sisters joined them in Jane’s room, and Elizabeth tried to reconcile her earlier feelings of how haughty she found them. They showed Jane affection and solicitude, and that went a long way in winning over Elizabeth’s regard. The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that Jane caught a violent cold, and they must endeavor to get the better of it. He advised an immediate return to bed and promised to bring restoring draughts later in the day.As Jane’s fever returned, Elizabeth did not quit her sister’s room

When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt she must return to Longbourn, and very unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley graciously offered her carriage, and Elizabeth just as graciously accepted.Yet Jane’s fever raged on, causing Elizabeth to linger longer and longer. Finally, Miss Bingley obligingly converted the offer of the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented and the Bingleys dispatched a servant to Longbourn to acquaint the family with Elizabeth’s stay and to bring back a supply of clothes.

Back in Jane’s room, Elizabeth lovingly sponged her sister’s weary brow, but her thoughts remained on the mysterious Mr. Darcy. By stalling and manipulating, she managed to wheedle out an invitation to stay. I am as bad as my mother, she thought, but the smile turned up the corner of her lips when she saw how easily it happened. She could take care of Jane, and she could more closely watch Mr. Darcy. It was the perfect arrangement.

At five o’clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half past six, they summoned Elizabeth to dinner. To the civil inquiries which then poured in, and among which she had the pleasure of the much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley, she could not make a very favorable answer. Jane was by no means better.The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves, and then thought no more of the matter and their indifference toward Jane, when not immediately before them, restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her original dislike. They are as awful as I suspected.

Their brother indeed, was the only one of the party whom she regarded with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions to herself most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she believed the rest of his family considered her to be. As for how Mr. Darcy felt, Elizabeth could not be sure. He barely spoke to her, and used to having him

When dinner was over she returned directly to Jane. When summoned to coffee some time later, Elizabeth refused the invitation as Jane was still very poorly. Only when her sister finally found sleep did she make an appearance in the drawing room. Finding the whole party at loo, she made her sister the excuse for not joining them and, in a few minutes, excused herself again. Late in the evening, she made a final appearance, joining them only to say her sister was worse, and she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones being sent for immediately; while his sisters, convinced no country advice could be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most eminent physicians. This she would not hear of; but she was not so unwilling to comply with their brother’s proposal; and it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better. Bingley was quite uncomfortable; his sisters declared they were miserable.They solaced their wretchedness, however, by duets after supper, while Mr. Bingley could find no better relief than by giving his housekeeper directions that every possible attention might be paid to the sick lady and her sister.

Much to Darcy’s dismay and to his delight, he saw very little of Elizabeth that first day: She spent much of her time with her sister Jane. Out of Elizabeth’s earshot, Bingley’s sisters criticized her for walking the three miles to Netherfield, but Darcy saw no reason to do so. Her windswept appearance made his Elizabeth look more natural—and, if possible, more beautiful. Later, goaded by Caroline’s trying to demonstrate her intimate relationship with him in front of Elizabeth by inquiring about Georgiana’s studies, he bested Miss Bingley with a remark on how Georgiana and Elizabeth were of the same height. Even more daring, Darcy challenged Caroline’s opinions on what constituted the requirements of an accomplished woman, a point on which she prided herself.

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments has too much truth.The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it not otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen; but I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, who are really accomplished,” he told Bingley.

“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.

“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.” God love her, she rose to the challenge, and for a moment, Darcy was alive again.

“Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.” Take that Elizabeth—respond again so I might hear your voice and experience the sparkle of your eyes.

“Oh, certainly,” Caroline interrupted. “A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.”

Darcy watched as Elizabeth fought the urge to roll her eyes. He agreed: Caroline was insufferable, but his Elizabeth was a different story. “All this she must possess,” he taunted, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.” Darcy knew Caroline never read a book unless forced to do so; however, Elizabeth sat on the sofa with one in her hand. He suspected that with Mr. Bennet’s reputation for extensive reading his daughter would follow suit. Besides, as well as Elizabeth battled verbally with him, he knew instinctively that she devoured books.

“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any,” she dared to question his opinion.

“Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility

“I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity and taste and application and elegance as you describe, united.”

You! He wanted to scream.You are that woman! But before they could continue, Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt, and the conversation died a slow death under their protests. Darcy, energized by the exchange, wanted more, but he realized the grave danger being in Elizabeth’s presence created. Luckily, or unluckily, Elizabeth soon afterward left the room.

For Darcy, the knowledge that she was in the same house and only a few doors away tormented him throughout the day, so at bedtime, unable to put that last exchange from his mind, he made his way to Netherfield’s library. “Possibly,” he muttered to himself, “something decent to read will distract me.” He chose a book on military history and took up residence in one of the wing chairs before the hearth. Having read a couple of chapters, he had nearly nodded off when he heard a noise on the stairs. Put on alert, he sat perfectly still, praying it was not Caroline Bingley.

Midnight—and still unable to sleep after her nearly heated conversation with Mr. Darcy—Elizabeth paced the room. She checked on Jane, but her sister rested soundly. All day long she had thought of him, even though she saw him only during dinner. Images of where he might be in the house kept her awake. She would give anything for a way to unwind.“Why not?” she said aloud.

Reaching for her wrapper, Elizabeth pulled it over her muslin gown. “At this time of night, who else could be awake?” She lit a candle and eased her way out the door.The carpeting muffled the sound of her footsteps, but she heard the squish of each step on the marble stairs.

A dim light came from the library as she approached the door. Assuming it to be only the fire burning down slowly, she entered without thinking; but seeing a movement near the hearth, Elizabeth

“Mr. Darcy!” she gasped.

Turning towards the sound of her voice, he felt a pull in his groin, a strange sense of lust and longing. Maybe it was because his heart thudded to a complete stop when his eyes beheld her. Elizabeth stood in the middle of the room, barefoot and in her night shift and dressing gown. His dreams of her did not come close to her exquisite beauty. His heart clenched with the recognition of how much he wanted her. She was everything—pure intelligence—pure control—pure loveliness. “Miss—Miss Elizabeth,” he stammered,“I did not expect company at such an hour.”

Elizabeth let her gaze wander over him. He wore tight breeches and a loosely fitted shirt open at the neck. Standing so tall and erect, she thought him one of the most handsome men she ever met. “I beg your pardon, Sir. I could not sleep. Netherfield has a reputation for possessing an exceptional library. I came in search of a book.” Then with a touch of mischief she added, “Improve my accomplishments and all.”

Darcy muffled a chuckle and gestured towards the shelves. “I am sure you may find something of interest here.” He knew he should excuse himself, but he could not leave her. His gaze slid over her once again.“May I help you find a book to your liking? It seems that since I came to Netherfield, I have spent an inordinate number of hours in here.”

Elizabeth smiled uneasily; she should not be found in her night-clothes in the middle of the evening spending time with a man.Yet if she really wanted to learn more of Mr. Darcy, what better way than a private conversation? “I am a voracious reader: politics, military history, science—”

“What? No romance?” his voice held a playful quality she was beginning to recognize.

“Mrs. Ratcliffe is entertaining, but my favorite is Fanny Burney’s Cecilia. In poetry, William Cowper reigns supreme.” She walked towards the shelves, pretending to peruse the offerings,

He thoroughly enjoyed watching her walk away—the slight sway of her hips.A wave of lust washed over him as Darcy laughed quietly.“No Lord Byron, Miss Elizabeth?”

She turned with a blush, a redness rising across her chest and neck. “I suppose that men,” she charged, “prefer such decadent reading, Mr. Darcy, but I assure you, I do not!”

“Then you have read Lord Byron?” he countered.

For a moment, she started to deny his assertion, but then Elizabeth laughed at herself. “I am my father’s child. I read when and what I should not.”

Darcy walked to where she stood. “Mr. Bennet has the reputation for being quite the bookworm.With your quick wit and love of twisting the King’s English, I should have known.You played me fair in our verbal duels.” He reached for a book on one of the upper shelves and handed it down to her. “You might enjoy this one, Miss Elizabeth.”

She stood looking up into a face with which she was beginning to become more comfortable. In silence, he held her laughing green eyes with his. Her eyes sparked with passion and some indecipherable emotion. “You deserve my reproofs, Mr. Darcy,” she asserted.

Darcy’s smile spread across his face. “I have been taken to task before, Miss Elizabeth, but I cannot say I ever enjoyed it quite as much.” Unconsciously, nearly trancelike, as in his dream, he reached out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Elizabeth did not flinch, just continued to stare deeply, seemingly into his soul. She tilted her face towards his palm. Darcy was on the brink—a precipice—a stepping-off point, and he was helpless to stop it. “It is a scandalous proposition, but would you consider keeping me company for awhile? I will freshen the fire to make the room more comfortable.”

“I would enjoy that very much, Mr. Darcy.” She swallowed hard, trying to force the desire, as well as the nervousness, away.

He took her hand and led her back to a wing chair. Then he added additional logs to the flames and stirred the embers. “May I get you a drink, Miss Elizabeth? I am afraid that it is too late—or maybe too early—for tea.”

“Some wine would be nice, Mr. Darcy.”As he turned to tend to the drinks, Elizabeth consciously inhaled deeply to regain her composure. The touch of his hand—so tempting—so strong—so warm—had shattered her senses.

In a few brief moments, he returned, carrying two glasses—a brandy for him and a glass of wine for her. He noted she sat with her feet tucked up underneath her to fend off the chill, so Darcy reached for a knitted shawl lying across the back of a nearby chair. “Let us lay this across your lap for warmth.” He boldly placed it over her legs, delighting in the intimacy of the moment and experiencing a rush of desire. “Might I get you another for your shoulders?”

“No, Sir, I am very comfortable. Please have a seat.” She gestured towards his chair.

He returned to his chair, picking up the book he had left lying upon her entrance. “How is Miss Bennet?” he asked as he laid the book on the table.

“My Jane is tougher than her beauty might lead a person to believe. She will suffer for a few more days, but the illness will run its course. It is very kind of Mr. Bingley to open his home to us.”

“Charles is delighted to be of service.” Darcy knew his friend to be “delighted” for other reasons, but he kept that information to himself.“I took note, Miss Elizabeth, you chose to walk to Netherfield this morning.”

Politely ignoring his implied criticism, Elizabeth offered one of her amused smiles. “I did, Mr. Darcy. I am assuming Miss Bingley also took note of my ramblings.”

Darcy returned her smile with one of his own. “Miss Bingley prides herself on being observant. I simply meant that, unlike your sister, you chose to walk rather than to ride or to come in your father’s coach.”

“My father’s coach was unavailable, Mr. Darcy, and I am no horsewoman.”

“Really? That surprises me. I would guess you to be a daredevil on a horse.” He took a sip of his brandy, letting it trickle down his throat.“You have an adventurous spirit.”

She turned crimson again, a bit surprised by his forwardness, but Elizabeth nodded her head in acceptance of his veiled compliment. “I do not fear riding. Unfortunately, the opportunity to learn never presented itself. My father’s stable is limited.”

“I could give you lessons while you are at Netherfield. Mr. Bingley has several fine choices, and I would take great pleasure in offering you my expertise.” He looked at her in all sincerity, hoping she might accept, as it would give him an excuse to spend more time with Elizabeth.

For a moment, Darcy could tell she seriously considered his offer, but she flashed a regretful smile, and then declared,“I cannot, Sir, impinge on your kindness.” He would not embarrass her with his insistence; he let it pass, realizing intuitively that her decision was for the sake of economy.“Would you tell me about your estate, Mr. Darcy? I understand it to be quite grand.”

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