Georgiana closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on feeling the brick’s warmth, but a shiver shook her body. “I will be happy to find my own bed.”

Elizabeth touched the girl’s forehead with the back of her hand. “You are not warm—no fever.”

“I simply ache all over, and my head is so tight with pressure,” Georgiana rasped out.

The carriage came to a bone-jolting halt. “I will be only a few minutes.” Elizabeth opened the door. Murray assisted her to the ground before handing Elizabeth one of the two remaining baskets he carried.

“Murray, I want to see Miss Darcy to the house as soon as possible. Would you mind delivering the basket you carry to the Taylors? Give them our regards and explain the situation. I will call on Mrs. Baine.”

“Certainly, Mrs. Darcy.” The footman headed toward the Taylors’ cottage, less than a quarter mile down the main drive.

Elizabeth glanced quickly at Georgiana to assure herself the girl would be well while alone in the coach.Then she strode toward the small, white washed cottage. Before she reached the door, it swung open, and a burly-looking man greeted her.

“Mrs. Darcy, let me be helpin’ ye with that.”

“Thank you, Mr. Baine.” Elizabeth entered the house and removed her gloves. She glanced around quickly to inspect how well the Baines maintained their home. Darcy did well by his tenants, but he expected the cottagers to uphold the property and not to destroy what he gave them.

“Ye be alone, Mistress?” Mrs. Baine looked to the threshold.

Elizabeth gestured toward the coach. “Miss Darcy feels poorly. We both thought it best to not bring an illness into your house. In fact, I only have a few minutes. I wish to see Mr. Darcy’s sister in her own bed’s comfort.”

“Certainly, Mrs. Darcy.” Mr. Baine set the basket on the table.

“There is flour, sugar, some potatoes, ham, and turnips in the basket.” Elizabeth slipped her gloves on, preparing to leave.