"Also, what could be more exciting than reading and discussing The Romance of the Forest with you?" Miss Anne said.
"Going outside, for instance," Elizabeth said, frowning. "I do not want you to quit your regimen because of me. You need your walks and your rides and your time away from a sickbed. You also need to spend more time with Mr. Darcy."
The last words slipped out of her mouth despite her intention to avoid speaking of Mr. Darcy.
"Oh, Elizabeth," Miss Anne said and plopped on the narrow bed next to Elizabeth. "Without you there, our little meetings have become rather dull. I do not know what it is particularly, but we seem to find little to talk about on our own and the conversation often steers towards you."
"Oh..." was all Elizabeth could say. She could never picture Mr. Darcy discussing her with her mistress for the lack of a better subject. Still, she was curious. "I hope it is not to complain about my uselessness lately."
"On the contrary," Miss Anne said. "I do not believe either Fitzwilliam or I have ever uttered a word of complaint about you. Mostly, we speak of your health and—"
A knock on the door startled the two women. Miss Anne clamped a hand over her mouth. Elizabeth was at the same time disappointed they had been interrupted at a moment so crucial and afraid that her mistress would be in trouble if discovered here. Still, she invited whoever was outside to come in.
"Forgive me for intruding," a flustered Miss Ashburn said, poking her head inside the room. "Miss de Bourgh, Lady Catherine has been looking for you."
"Come in," Miss Anne urged her. "Quick! And close the door."
Lady Catherine's companion did as instructed and curtsied.
"How did you know I was here?" Miss Anne asked.
"I was only following my gut," Miss Ashburn said. "I could not find you in any of the places where you usually spend your time."
"Does Mother know?"
"I have not told her anything."
"Good," Miss Anne said with a loud exhale. "What is it you need me for?"
"Lady Catherine has arranged a carriage to take you, Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam and herself to town and she is becoming impatient with your absence. She would like to leave as soon as possible."
"Very well," Miss Anne said, clearly irritated, and stood. "You can tell her I will be downstairs shortly."
Miss Ashburn started to leave when the young mistress called her name again.
"Miss Ashburn? I would be needing a favor from you."
"Surely, Miss."
"I need you to look after Miss Bennet if you would not mind. Here," she walked to the vanity and picked up the book they had been reading from, then handed it to Miss Ashburn. "We have only just reached the most enchanting part. If you could stay here and read from this, I would be indebted."
"It is truly not necessary," Elizabeth said. "I am sure Miss Ashburn has better things to do."
"I insist," Miss Anne said.
"Whatever is this?" Miss Ashburn exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise, as she flipped through the book once Miss Anne had left the room. "Where did you find it?"
Elizabeth relaxed into her pillows and shrugged. Even though she trusted Miss Ashburn, she was not about to reveal her and Miss Anne's scheme of secretly borrowing from the forbidden sections of Rosings' library. She might slip up in front of her mistress and give her just the reason to dismiss her daughter's rather inconvenient companion.
"We found it by accident," she lied. "It is tremendous fun."
"I would bet so. I have not read anything like this in years," Miss Ashburn said and looked around for a place to sit. She settled on the stool by the vanity that Miss Anne had previously occupied and opened the book hungrily. "Do you mind?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.
"No, of course not," Elizabeth said, smiling weakly. She had not realized she had exhausted her spare energy so early in the day.
With a sly smile, Miss Ashburn opened the book and cleared her throat. She began reading with a hushed voice. She seemed to vastly enjoy her role as an accomplice in reading the illicit novel.
Soon her tone evened out and reached a pleasant, even cadence that lulled Elizabeth. As she listened to the riveting tale of otherworldly terrors in a gloomy abbey, she could not help but imagine herself and Mr. Darcy as the main characters in the tale. Before she knew it, her forbidden thoughts carried her away and she was no longer listening. She drifted off to peaceful sleep.
When the echo of a slammed door somewhere down the corridor woke her up, Elizabeth felt slightly disoriented. What time was it? How long had she been asleep?
She propped herself up and looked around. The curtains were drawn. A candle flickered by her bedside. The book was neatly placed next to her pillow. Miss Ashburn was gone.
20
Elizabeth was finally feeling well enough to come downstairs for dinner, all with Doctor Morton's approval. She was still limping slightly as she entered the dining room following Mr. Darcy who escorted her mistress, but she was grateful to be out and about again.
A faint smile graced her lips as she recounted the letter from Jane she had received this morning. Jane had won over Miss Caroline Bingley’s heart and her mistress treated her more like a sister than a mere companion. Mr. Bingley was now openly courting her and despite Jane’s worst fears, Miss Caroline appeared supportive of her brother’s intentions towards her.
If the news had related to anyone else but her dear Jane, Elizabeth would have been skeptical of its veracity. She did not doubt, however, that Jane’s numerous merits could break through social dogma and inspire anything else but respect, affection and even love in anyone who got to know her.
Elizabeth took her seat between Miss Ashburn and Colonel Fitzwilliam and discovered she was ravenous while observing the butler orchestrate the lavish dinner. Although there were no additional guests at Rosings, dinner was regularly a splendid affair.
Conversation around the table was not nearly as riveting as the food presented. For a while, Colonel Fitzwilliam gushed at the vast improvement he was seeing in Miss Anne's health. He had not yet witnessed a recovery so speedy in his life. Lady Catherine hurried to praise Dr. Morton's expertise while expressing her doubts that her daughter could be considered cured so prematurely.
"It has all been because of Miss Bennet," Miss Anne said and vigorously bit a piece of roasted ox cheek. "Mama, you should be kinder to yourself and stop thinking of me as doomed. Worrying over my health has taken a toll on you as well."
Elizabeth looked down at her own plate, embarrassed. She had been resting in bed for the past week. She could not take credit for any further improvement Miss Anne's health might have seen since the day of her riding accident.
She peeked at Lady Catherine from under her lowered lashes to discover the old lady's face content rather than irritated. What had she missed while lying in bed all this time? Had Mr. Darcy finally asked for his cousin's hand in marriage? Was the old woman harboring some secret knowledge or was she simply in a good mood?
No, the latter would be too uncharacteristic.
"Well, I am pleased to hear it," Lady Catherine said in an unnaturally kind tone. "It has been too long since sickness and worry have started reigning over Rosings. If you are truly feeling so much better, my dear, I think it is time we resume some measure of social life after being secluded out here for so long.
“I have taken the liberty of inviting a couple of guests over for dinner tomorrow evening. It will be nothing fancy, just a small gathering to reconnect with some of our old friends and bring some life to Rosings. I hope you would be in good enough a state to handle a few visitors."
Miss Anne clapped her hands together with excitement and the rest of the party exchanged subdued smiles. What had come over Lady Catherine? She was a known recluse who did not place much value on social events and idle diversions.
"I believe our dear gentlemen might have also become jaded with the monotonous rhythm of life at Rosings," the old woman added, "so it would be good for all
of us to indulge in a bit of entertainment."
Once desert was concluded, the gentlemen retired to a nearby study, while the women took their drinks to the drawing-room. Although neither the routine nor the company had changed in over a month, there was an animation in the air this evening. Everyone was more talkative and energetic and the four ladies did not even reach for the cards.
There was so much to be discussed. Elizabeth's fears of Lady Catherine dismissing her as soon as she felt well enough to walk were assuaged and she found herself enjoying the usually mundane topic of dinner preparations.
"I might wear the green silk I never got the chance to put on before I fell ill," Miss Anne chirped. "And the jade comb Uncle brought me from the Indies."
"You would look splendid," Lady Catherine said. "If all this goes well, perhaps we might even organize something on a grander scale. A ball perhaps?"
"Mama!" Miss Anne squealed.
Elizabeth was not as fond of dances as her mistress apparently was, but she was happy on her behalf. Perhaps it was only the fact that she had attended more balls than she cared for, while Miss Anne had lived a mostly secluded life with her mother. Still, the sudden change in Lady Catherine bothered Elizabeth at the back of her mind and did not let her fully partake in the shared happiness.
"Oh," Lady Catherine added as an afterthought once Miss Anne was done effusing about the upcoming dinner. "You should also wear your diamond and amethyst necklace. It would match the green gown just heavenly."
Elizabeth frowned. Something was not right.
Mr. Darcy peered through the window, taking yet another sip from his brandy. It was not yet noon and still, he felt inexplicably restless. He needed something to put him at ease. His eyes fell on Elizabeth Bennet who played with one of the family dogs on the green lawn under the window. Despite her injury, she was twirling, hopping and skipping, eliciting bursts of laughter from Anne who was sitting in the grass nearby.
He felt as if he was under a spell. He was unable to look away. The young woman was so full of life, so intelligent in conversation and so thrilling in his arms that he had been unable to think of anything else recently. The week that she had been sequestered to her room had been a torture.
His visits to his cousin's room had lost their charm entirely and the two had found little to discuss. They had returned to the topics of the weather, the estate and their shared childhood memories time and again just to fill the uncomfortable silence with empty words. Miss Bennet's absence was acutely felt by both.
Eventually, Darcy stopped coming at all, thinking of more and more creative excuses every day. One morning, it was his horse misbehaving and the urgent need to tend to it. The next, it was a slight indisposition that kept him to his bedchamber until noon. He was certain that another audience with his aunt was in order sooner than later.
Still, something had become rather clear to him in the days that he could not see Miss Bennet. He could not live in her presence and be married to someone else. Of course, the matter could be settled very simply by either convincing his aunt to get rid of the inconvenient girl or simply take his new bride to Pemberley and find her a more suitable companion there. Not that she would need a companion at all. What with all the new duties the mistress of Pemberley would have upon assuming her position.
Yet, the trouble was, he did not want to live without Elizabeth Bennet.
But she is just the daughter of a simple country gentleman! his mind countered. Even worse, she was a lady's companion for heaven's sake! It would not befit him to take a wife of her station. His aunt would be outraged. His mother's memory would be disgraced. His circle of friends would look down on her and snicker behind her back.
What was he to do? The more he thought, the worse he felt and instead of reaching any clear conclusion, he only became more flustered and confused.
He was presently due to come downstairs for a ride with Colonel Fitzwilliam but for the first time he was not in the mood for it. Guests would be arriving at Rosings for dinner tonight. Darcy could not care less. He had lost all interest in the mundane activities of the day, his heart torn with guilt, passion and indecision.
He took one last look at Elizabeth before forcing himself to step away from the window. Even from here, he could discern her sparkling white teeth, her infectious smile, and the luscious form of her bosom. His body ached with a need to be close to her and savor her presence, inhale her scent, hear her laughter and the sharp edge of sarcasm that often laced her words. He longed to touch her again...
Blast! He was a lost man.
While he observed Elizabeth playing with the dog, the decision came to him clear and firm. He could not doubt its truth. He should leave Rosings without proposing to Anne. He respected his young cousin enough not to doom her to a life of apathy, boredom and even neglect for he knew he would be seeking diversion outside of his mediocre marriage.
Not that he would throw himself in the arms of another woman, but knowing himself, he expected he would bury himself in his books, his sports and his travels to escape the insignificance of his wife's company. No, he loved Anne enough to spare her from the same sheltered, uneventful life she had led, only in a different grand house in a different shire.
His aunt’s wrath he could take. A life of compromise he could not.
As for his mother, he trusted that above all she would have liked to see him genuinely happy than married to any one woman in particular. The kind and gentle Mrs. Darcy had loved her son beyond measure and had left this life making sure he knew how she felt. Darcy should not allow something his aunt had said to shake the belief he had held dear for years.
If he did not have to live in such close proximity to Elizabeth, Darcy was certain that one day he would forget her. In fact, his rather feeble hope was that he would one day meet a lady that carried the same virtues as Miss Bennet but was better suited to his position.
He shook his head and finished the brandy in a single gulp. Just the thought of another woman made him shudder with resentment.
Darcy decided he would wait until the morning to announce his departure. Colonel Fitzwilliam would probably follow as well. He had been a good enough sport to stay at Rosings for as long as he had just to keep Darcy company. Darcy was desperate to leave already but seeing how excited everyone was to welcome the first guests in Rosings, who were not immediate family, in what might have been years, prompted him to wait. He would not spoil the evening all the women at Rosings were so much looking forward to.
Darcy realized his intention to step away from the window had failed. The two pieces of melting ice clinked in the empty glass as he swirled it absently. Only now he saw that while he had been so distracted with his turbulent thoughts, Elizabeth and Anne had left the lawn and were nowhere in sight. The dog was gone too.
He straightened his cravat in front of the mirror and took a deep breath.
Suddenly, he became aware of a faint sound coming from downstairs that gradually grew louder. He stilled himself to try and make it out. Yes, there was certainly some sort of commotion coming from the floor beneath him. What could it be?
As far as he was aware, it was just bedrooms situated on that floor. Had there been another fire? These were a more regular occurrence than one would think. Darcy walked to the door and opened it.
There was screaming, shouting and loud blaming. It was not a fire, as far as he could tell. It sounded like squabble. Normally, he would be disinterested in any form of women's hysterics, but now he needed the distraction. He had to pass the hours until the morning somehow.
Closing the door behind him, he headed downstairs.
21
Elizabeth was not sure what the cacophony was all about. She had only managed to lay out one of her two more presentable dresses on the bed when the growing noise attracted her attention. She thought she heard her mistress’s distraught voice. But that was inconceivable. The woman who was screaming down the corridor sounded as if she was having a bout of hysterics.
Elizabeth had seen Miss Anne only minutes ago and she had been in a perfectly peaceful disposition. She had seemed happy and even glowing in anticipation of tonight's dinner. It was impossible that in the course of only a few short moments she would turn into a shrieking madwoman.
Was it possible that Elizabeth had underestimated Miss Anne's condition from the start? Could her mistress fall victim to sudden fits of insanity despite the illusory improvement in her outward state?
Elizabeth hurried out of her room and headed towards the noise, leaving the door ajar.
Just as soon as she stepped out into the corridor, she was about to collide with someone coming from behind her at a quick pace. The two managed to stop just in time in order to avoid falling into each other's arms and having their bodies hopelessly tangled into one another. They each took a quick step back to put a safe distance between them, their eyes only briefly landing on each other and then promptly focusing on the floor.
To an outside observer, Elizabeth and Darcy might have seemed like a couple of secret accomplices who had agreed not to acknowledge each other in public. Awkwardness hung in the air. Another shriek from down the corridor shook them awake from their momentary stupor.
"Where are they?" a woman wailed in near frenzy. Undoubtedly, it was Anne de Bourgh's voice, only it was higher and thinner.
"Whatever has happened?" Mr. Darcy finally asked, his voice coming out cracked and uncharacteristically hesitant. "I heard commotion and came down at once to check if everyone was safe. Has another fire broken?"
"I myself only became aware of trouble a moment ago and came out to see what it might be," Elizabeth said and sniffed the air. "It does not smell like smoke in here."
Mr. Darcy nodded in confirmation.
"Shall we go and see if any help is needed?"
"Certainly," Elizabeth said and looking at Mr. Darcy's extended hand which directed her to go first, she led the way. She found herself shivering at the recollection of what it was that Miss Anne had screamed.
Too Close to Mr Darcy Page 14