The two months after Jane and Mr. Bingley’s wedding didn’t go very quietly for Elizabeth. She had expected to miss her sister dreadfully, but their aborted wedding trip had rendered her days even more daunting. She had decided that she would keep her mother in Longbourn as much as could be, thus making easier and more private her sister’s installation in her new life. She knew Mrs. Bennet was so thrilled at having her eldest daughter so well settled and so close that she would be prone to call on the Bingleys every single day, if she could have the carriage. So Elizabeth was more often in the sitting-room keeping her mother chatting or sewing or whatever she could find so that Mrs. Bennet would have something to do instead of going to Netherfield. Fortunately, the weather was very bad during the beginning of the winter and there were not too many regrets to have; after all, ‘twas not as if she would have been able to ramble around the countryside anyway. Last but not least, Jane’s constant remarks about how happy she was to settle smoothly in her new life without too much interference only added balm to her soul.

Another reason for not having regrets was that, willingly captive with her mother in the sitting-room, Elizabeth had discovered a new enjoyable way of using her time: she had started to write a novel! After having read all of Shakespeare’s plays and many of the novels her father’s library held, she had felt like trying herself. Her favourite genre being historical novels, she had situated her story during Queen Elizabeth’s reign. The recent wedding had also inspired her, so it was a love-story. And because if everything was fine, there was no use telling it, the lovers had to struggle to be together. She often smiled at the thought that Mary wouldn’t be too pleased with her subject…

Elizabeth often thought back of the few days Mr. Darcy had spent in Hertfordshire before Jane’s wedding. She had felt so awkward around him, knowing what he had done for Lydia, knowing that he had most probably brought back Mr. Bingley to Netherfield, knowing how astoundingly kind and unpretentious he had been at Pemberley despite their last encounter in Kent, and all the while unable to thank him. Indeed, her newly acknowledged regard for him had made her shy; she had not been able to speak freely to him as had been her wont the year before, much less tease him as she used. And the drastic change she had noticed in his manners since their last encounter hadn’t inclined her to do so; true, he had been much more agreeable with everyone. He was still called proud in the neighbourhood but, except for Mrs. Bennet, nobody found him unpleasant any longer, and even in Longbourn, he had been much more civilly received. But he had not been the Mr. Darcy Elizabeth had met in Pemberley and she thought she knew the reason. Why! Her younger sister now bore the name of Wickham, the name of the man he hated probably the most in all England.

Indeed, Mr. and Mrs. Bingley were enjoying a very nice honeymoon. The very afternoon of the ceremony, Caroline had left with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst to their town-house and Mr. Darcy had rejoined Georgiana in his. The newlyweds were supposed to leave for a tour of the Northern counties the day after – one of Charles’ suggestion, to show her where his family’s cradle lay –but that was never to happen; a snow storm had prevented their leaving for a week, and by then, the felicity of their new life had changed their mind.

But, two months had gone by, Elizabeth was not her usual self and Jane had finally felt that there was something amiss with her beloved sister. She clearly understood that entertaining their mother had been trying for Lizzy but she had no idea that heartache was the other reason. One afternoon, while Mrs. Bennet and her daughters were calling at Netherfield, Jane managed to take her sister aside.

"Lizzy, I must apologize…"

"Whatever for?"

"I have been so happy since Charles and I married that I have failed to notice your spirits were not as cheerful as they used to be. I know that your patience is daily put to the test and that you bear it for my sake, and I know that you have not been able to enjoy taking your daily walks. So forgive me, dear Lizzy, for not having been as attentive as I used to."

Jane seemed really upset so Elizabeth felt obliged to alleviate her sister’s concern, "Indeed, Jane, I know it’s your fault that the weather has been so cold and snowy."

"Seriously, Lizzy, can I be of any help?"

As her sister demanded it, Lizzy answered sincerely – at least, as sincerely as she could, "My life has not been so difficult. Mama has two other daughters to "take care of" and I have even been able to start to write a novel."

Jane was astounded,

"Really? And what is it about? When does it take place? Who are the heroes?"

Elizabeth interrupted her mid-sentence, "Stop it, Jane, I’ll get lost in all your questions. I shall tell you all. It happens in 1580, at Queen Elizabeth’s court and is the story of a handsome tall black haired knight who has to fight to win the heart of a young lady and the consent of her father."

Jane was delighted; she wanted to know what was happening and how Lizzy was progressing.

"Not so well actually. I would like to write a fencing combat but I have no idea of how a sword is to be used."

Jane did not either but she told her sister she would seek Charles’s advice. And she mentally added that she would, also, speak to him about changing Lizzy’s ideas or surroundings.

After their supper that day, she broke the subject with her husband.

"Charles, I’ve been speaking with Lizzy today and she doesn’t seem very well. She has spent a lot of time indoors with Mama and I’m sure a change of scenery would help her very much. Couldn’t we invite her to spend a week or two here with us?"

He seemed thoughtful. "Why not? But do you really think that 3 miles would be enough? I’ve received a letter from Darcy this week. He invites us to come and spend some time with him and Georgiana at his town-house. I’m sure he would agree if I suggest that we come with Elizabeth."

Jane was instantly convinced. "That is a very good idea, if you’re sure Mr. Darcy would not mind. And maybe, there, you could explain to her how to use a sword."

Her spouse frowned, "Dearest, what are you talking about?"

She told him about the novel.

"Well," answered Charles, "I’m afraid I’m not very good at it. Darcy is far better than I am. Perhaps we could suggest him to help her?"

"And, physically, he’s more like Lizzy’s hero" added lightly his wife.

The Fencing Lessons, Chapter 2