“She was caught in the rain last night,” Elizabeth explained. “She was chilled through, and there was… some delay in making her comfortable.”
“I see,” he said, though his mouth tightened slightly. He reached for his bag and retrieved a small horn instrument. “Let us see what her lungs are saying, poor girl.”
After placing the tool against Jane’s chest in several locations and listening carefully, he pulled away with a slight frown.
“Her fever is high, and there is congestion in the lungs. Not deep yet—but it could worsen. The cough sounds dry, which is better than wet for now. But she is not to be moved, Miss Elizabeth.”
This use of her full name told her that he was deadly serious in his instructions. “When can I take her home?” she asked, bracing herself.This afternoon; please let us leave today.
Her heart sank as he answered. “Not today, and not tomorrow, either. I would prefer she remain where she is for a full week, to be honest.”
At Elizabeth’s slight gasp, he continued, “Shemuststay warm, take broth and tea regularly, and be watched closely. If the cough worsens or she begins to breathe with difficulty, I am to be sent for immediately.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard and nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Jones.”
“I shall send a draught to ease the cough and bring the fever down,” he continued. “I will call again tomorrow morning. Mrs. Nichols tells me there is a competent girl watching her?”
“There is,” Elizabeth said, “but I plan to stay with her as well.”
“Good.” He looked at her shrewdly. “You are clear-headed. I trust your instincts.”
Elizabeth hesitated, then glanced toward the fire. “Mr. Jones—would you be willing to accompany me downstairs and deliver your instructions in the presence of Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy?”
The apothecary raised a brow. “I would.”
“Thank you. I… I wish them to hear the full seriousness of her condition,” she said carefully. “From a professional.”
Mr. Jones studied her a moment, then gave a small, approving grunt. “Very well. Let us find the gentlemen.”
Elizabeth cast one last glance at her sister, smoothing the blankets, then followed the apothecary into the corridor. Her steps were brisk, but her thoughts were taut with anticipation.
If Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley truly meant well… if last night’s failings had been ignorance and not indifference… then now would be the moment to prove it.
The hallway was quiet as Elizabeth followed Mr. Jones down the stairs. She kept her hands clasped tightly before her to keepthem from trembling—not from fear, precisely, but from a mix of fatigue, indignation, and a rising anxiety she could not quite suppress.
Mrs. Nicholls directed them to the breakfast room, and with a quick knock, Elizabeth pushed the door open.
Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy sat at the table, clearly in the middle of a conversation. Both turned quickly at the sound, then rose to their feet in unison.
Darcy’s eyes met hers first—sharp, assessing—and then flicked to the apothecary at her side. Bingley’s face lit for the briefest instant at her appearance, but the expression faltered the moment he saw her companion’s grave countenance.
“Mr. Bingley, good morning,” Elizabeth said before either man could speak. “This is Mr. Jones, the local apothecary. He has just now finished examining my sister, and I asked him to share his report with you.”
“Mr. Jones, delighted to meet you… ah, that is, not in these circumstances, of course.” Bingley shook his head at himself, then stepped forward. “Please, how is she?”
“She is quite unwell,” Mr. Jones replied without preamble. “High fever, congestion in the lungs, and a dry cough that may worsen if she is moved.”
Bingley paled. “Moved? Certainly not! I would not dare dream of it.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and said, “It was my preferred option, as I would like to see my sister recover in a place where she is…comfortable.”
She was gratified to see Bingley flush brilliantly. Darcy shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
“And as I have told Miss Elizabeth, sending her out in this state would be to court disaster,” the apothecary said firmly. “She needs to remain in bed, warm and watched, and take broth and willow bark tea every few hours. If the fever rises orthe cough becomes more labored, I must be summoned without delay.”
Bingley pressed his hand to his brow and turned away slightly, as though the force of the words had struck him physically. His shoulders slumped.
Darcy stepped forward, his tone crisp but respectful. “Is she in danger?”
