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“How are you feeling Jane?”

“Much better Lizzie. I know the fever lasted several days but, oh I do not know, it seems as if the fever burned away any other illnesses. I feel much better, and despite a large breakfast and a healthy lunch, still have an appetite for dinner.”

“That is excellent. Do you feel up to attending church in the morning?”

Jane nodded vigorously.

“Then this evening ask Mr. Bingley if he will drive us to church and we can walk home to Longbourn with Papa, Mama and our sisters after the service. One of the grooms can come over and collect Buttercup.”

“I will. Come, let us join the others.”

Dinner was a repeat of Wednesday evening. Elizabeth was again at the end of the table with only Hurst on her right. Conversation was limited as he tackled all the courses with gusto. Jane had tried to include her at several points but Mr. Bingley, unwittingly, and Miss Bingley, deliberately, had negated her efforts. At one point Elizabeth had to smile as she recalled the dinners she had referenced with Darcy that morning. She had no illusions of being a sophisticated hostess but her first efforts were better than anything Miss Bingley had demonstrated. The separation of the sexes, when reviewed later, was the calm before the storm. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst monopolised Jane’s attention and Elizabeth was left on her own. But Bingley was in a hurry to attend his ‘angel’ and the separation was not long. As the three gentlemen rejoined the party Elizabeth’s attention was drawn to a painting on the wall. Everyone was taking their seats but she walked over to the painting, trying to see who the artist was. The subject was the Eruption of Mount Vesuvius, and the plaque on the frame noted it was the work of a Joseph Wright.

“Miss Eliza Bennet, what are you looking at?”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed. Turning she retook her seat facing Miss Bingley.

“I see that despite being asked not to call me that name, you insist on continuing. You obviously take delight in shortening people’s names.”

The fire was raging in the hearth but Darcy shivered. This was not going to be good.

“Caroline. Caro? No too obvious.”

Elizabeth was mumbling under her breath.

“C-A-R-O-L-I-N-E. Remove the beginning and the end, R-O-L-I. Yes, that will do.”

Elizabeth looked up at Miss Bingley, a smile of breathtaking duplicity on her face.

“To answer your original question Miss Roli, I was looking at the painting on the wall. I thought that was self-evident.”

It took all of Darcy’s iron control to stifle his gasp, and his laughter. Four of the other five people in the room failed at the first and Hurst failed to stop his laughter. Miss Bingley’s face could no longer be described as red, it had passed right through crimson and was now solidly scarlet. Her tone when she spoke reminded Darcy of Mrs. Bennet.

“Do not call me Roli. My name is Caroline. And it is Miss Bingley to you.”

Elizabeth did not appear ruffled in the slightest.

“My name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Darcy could not believe how calm she appeared. As she had before she picked up her book and started to read it, blithely unconcerned for anyone else.

“Charles! Charles! Are you going to let her speak to me that way?”

“Er, well, I mean...”

Darcy watched Bingley flounder around. He had never stood up to his sister but he was trapped. Yes Miss Elizabeth had been rude to his sister but they all knew that it was merely a reaction to the first slight, that caused by Caroline Bingley. As he fumbled about it became embarrassing. He was saved by Miss Elizabeth herself.

“I am sorry Mr. Bingley for making the party uncomfortable.”

For Darcy another smile, closer to a smirk, had to be suppressed.

“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”

Darcy watched Bingley retreat to the gentle words of his ‘angel’. He also watched the seething mass of anger that was Caroline Bingley. Louisa Hurst had placed a hand on her sister’s wrist and he could see that she was trying to calm her down.

20 minutes later Darcy wished that Mrs. Hurst had not calmed her sister as her response had been a nauseating display of social climbing. Events were listed, people were named, the way Caroline Bingley spun the tale she was a fixture of the first circles. Whatever reaction she expected to get from Miss Elizabeth, she was disappointed. Darcy watched as she occasionally quirked her lips slightly but other than that she ignored Miss Bingley’s monologue. Darcy got so bored that he took up station at the escritoire and started a letter to his sister. He deflected Miss Bingley’s repeated attempts to gain his attention.

“I understand Miss Elizabeth Bennet that you have only recently returned to Hertfordshire.”