Page 9 of What to do with Fitzwilliam Darcy?

Her husband squeezed her fingers. "The colonel will have heard much worse in the army. Let us do this for our friends. For my friend and for our sister."

"Oh, very well," Jane said, following Georgiana's path up the stairs.

She went to Lizzie's room and knocked lightly on the door. "Lizzie, dearest, it is only Jane. May I come in?"

She heard a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan and decided to take it for acceptance.

The breakfast tray remained on the side untouched. The teapot must have been stone cold by now. Jane entered the room tentatively and drew back the curtains to allow some light to come in. The only part of Lizzie that was visible was a couple of dark curls escaping above the coverlet and a vaguely human shape beneath it.

Jane's sympathy began to wane. "Elizabeth Rose Bennet, what would our mother say if she could see you still abed at this time? You have not touched your breakfast tray. You cannot remain under there forever, dearest."

With that, she pulled back the coverlet and revealed her sister, who was still in her night rail and who had apparently gone to bed without braiding her hair, as it stuck out in every direction. Her face was pale and there were dark half-moons beneath her eyes.

"Well, it is perhaps not your best ensemble, Lizzie, but I am sure my maid can help you effect some sort of repair on your person."

Jane settled beside Elizabeth, who grasped her sister's hand.

"I can never leave this room again. I shall die of the shame. I am sure of it. I feel... I feel... I do not know what I feel."

With that, she threw herself back against the pillows.

"Did I really call him handsome? Did I call him pretty?"

"I believe you called him handsome several times and pretty just the once. You also complimented his eyelashes."

"Oh, no."

"And his hair."

"Oh goodness," said Lizzie. "Oh, dear Lord. What did he say?"

"He said nothing. After he carried you to your chamber, he retired to his own rooms."

"He carried me to my chamber?"

"Yes, dearest. You could not walk. Do you not remember? You said your legs were not working."

"Oh! I shall never touch a drop of wine as long as I live!"

Lizzie pulled a pillow over her face and groaned into it.

Jane took a deep breath and assumed her role in the plan. "Well, all is well now. He has gone from Netherfield, so there is no need to fear any repercussions. I have discussed things with Charles, and we will rearrange our social obligations so that the two of you do not need to be in company together. It is clearly a poor combination of personalities."

Lizzie lowered the pillow slightly. "He is really gone?" she asked in a small voice.

Jane swallowed before looking her sister straight in the eye. "I promise."

Lizzie stared at her blankly.

"Now, will you dress yourself, or shall I send someone to help you? You must be hungry. We are about to have a little tea in the library. The fire is lit in there and it is lovely and warm. You will feel ever so much better when you are clean and dressed and have some food inside you."

"I suppose," said Lizzie. "And I will not see him again? You will not arrange anything where we are both there?"

Jane looked at her sister carefully. She did not sound quite as pleased by that turn of events as perhaps she would wish Jane to believe.

"That is what I said, Lizzie. Let me ring for Marie."

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