Darcy's Uneasy Betrothal

by Zoë Burton

  His decision made, Darcy strode to the fireplace. The clock on the mantel struck the half-hour. The footman said we will not dine until seven. I have time for a rest. Darcy settled into the chair with a book and soon drifted into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 4

  Elizabeth opened her eyes and blinked. She began to turn her head, but a crushing pain made her moan. She stilled. A soft voice called her name.

  “Lizzy?”

  Elizabeth felt a cool hand brush over her forehead. She struggled to open her eyes again.

  “Open your eyes for me, Lizzy. Come on. You can do it!”

  With another groan, Elizabeth did as she was bid, seeing her younger sister leaning over her.

  “Mary.” Elizabeth groaned her sibling’s name. “My head hurts,” she continued on a whisper.

  “I am sorry. Would a cold cloth help?”

  Elizabeth whispered her assent. She lay as still as she could while Mary wrung out the cloth. The sound of the water coming out of the cloth and hitting that in the bowl brought her to an awareness of another need.

  “I am thirsty.”

  Mary leaned over to lay the cool, damp cloth on Elizabeth’s forehead. She leaned down, ear turned toward her sister’s mouth. “Say it again, Lizzy. I could not hear.”

  Elizabeth swallowed. “Water.”

  “Oh! Of course.” Mary sat beside Elizabeth on the bed and helped her sit up, then handed her sister a glass. When Elizabeth had taken a few sips and pushed the glass back toward her, Mary accepted it and placed it on the table beside the bed. Then, she eased Elizabeth back onto the pillows and laid the cloth over her forehead again.

  “Do you need anything else? I must go tell Jane and Papa so they can inform Mr. Jones.”

  Elizabeth had already begun drifting off to sleep. She forced her eyes open again. “No, nothing else.” She squeezed the hand that held hers. “Thank you, Mary.” She never heard her sister’s response; she was asleep before Mary got to the door.

  ~~~***~~~

  When Elizabeth woke again, her head did not hurt quite as badly. She opened her eyes to see the room flooded with light. Tentatively, she turned her head. “Jane.”

  Elizabeth’s eldest sister jumped at the sound of her voice. “Lizzy?” Jane sat on the edge of the bed and ran her hand over Elizabeth’s cheek. She twisted her head and called over her shoulder. “Papa, Mr. Jones. She is awake!” Jane turned her attention back to Elizabeth. “How do you feel, Lizzy? You gave us quite a scare.”

  “What happened?” Elizabeth looked past Jane to see her father standing beside the bed, one hand on Jane’s shoulder. “Papa?”

  A deep voice on the other side of her brought Elizabeth’s eyes to that side of the bed. “Do you not recall?”

  “Mr. Jones, why are you here? Have I been ill?” Elizabeth struggled to sit up, but Jane pushed her back down.

  “You struck your head,” Jane explained. “The Longs’ bull got loose and was charging you, but Mr. Bingley’s friend happened by and saved you. However, you hit your head when he pushed you down.”

  “It hurts.” Elizabeth rubbed her forehead.

  “I am certain it does.” Mr. Jones leaned over the bed to lift her eyelids. “I believe you have a concussion, an injury to your brain. You must rest for a few days, which I know you will not appreciate.” He held a hand up when Elizabeth opened her mouth. “However, you may find you wish to remain in bed, because I suspect getting out of it will cause some dizziness or lightheadedness. You must be careful not to fall and injure yourself further. You have some nasty contusions on your back and leg.”

  Elizabeth listened in silence to the apothecary’s words, but they made no sense. However, Jane and Papa were nodding in agreement, so she acquiesced to his instructions. She would ask Jane when they were alone.

  Suddenly, Elizabeth became aware of two pressing needs. She blushed, knowing she could not ask about the one in the presence of her father and Mr. Jones.

  “What is the matter?” Jane had not moved from her position, and noticed Elizabeth’s sudden flush. She stroked the back of her sister’s hand.

  “May I have some water?” Elizabeth kept her focus on Jane.

  “Of course.” Jane poured out a glass and held it to her sister’s lips.

  When Elizabeth had swallowed some of the liquid, she thanked Jane and gestured her to come closer. Then, she whispered in Jane’s ear. “I need to use the chamber pot.”

  “Oh!” Jane’s eyes widened for a moment, but she stood. “If you are done with your examination, Lizzy would like to refresh herself.” Jane flushed slightly.

  Instantly, the gentlemen acquiesced. Mr. Jones addressed Elizabeth once more. “I have given instructions for your care to Miss Bennet and have repeated them to your father. You are to follow them to the letter, Miss Lizzy.” The apothecary’s tone was firm and Elizabeth knew better than to question him. Not that she felt much like interrogating anyone. She honestly felt a bit queasy and hoped she did not cast up her accounts.

  “Yes, sir.”

  When the room was empty of gentlemen, Mary entered it, and between her and Jane, Elizabeth was gotten out of bed, washed up, and changed into a fresh nightgown.

  By the time Elizabeth was back in bed, her head was spinning. She feared she would be sick and was grateful to be allowed to remain lying down a while. She lay quietly while her sisters straightened up her room and settled themselves into chairs on either side of her bed. When the dizziness receded, she opened her eyes again.

  “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “It is nothing, is it, Mary? You always take such good care of us when we are sick that we could never leave you in such a position.” Jane dropped her embroidery on her lap and leaned over the bed to take Elizabeth’s hand again.

  “Jane is correct. I am happy to take care of you. I was so worried last night, but then you woke up. I have never seen such a sweet sight.” Mary set her book on the bed beside Elizabeth and laid her hand on her sister’s.

  Elizabeth smiled, though it was not the bright look of delight she usually wore. Her head ached worse the longer she was awake, but she did not wish to go to sleep without some answers. “I do not understand what happened. Will you tell me?”

  “Oh, Lizzy, it was horrible. Young Tommy ran into the paddock, yelling that you had been injured and it set Mama into a fit of nerves. Mr. Hill had to hitch Nellie to the cart to go get you.” Jane paused in her tale, which gave Mary time to insert a detail.

  “The horses were all out on the farm with the larger wagons.”

  Elizabeth nodded. She had a vague memory of teasing her father about the carriage recently, but it was too nebulous to hold onto and soon was gone. She turned her attention back to her sisters.

  Jane picked up the story again. “When Mr. Hill returned, he had you and a stranger in the cart. The gentleman was holding you, and he carried you up here by himself. Mrs. Hill offered to have her husband carry you, but the man refused.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened at Jane’s words. “He carried me?”

  “He did!” Mary’s lips flattened and her chin rose a bit. “It was quite scandalous.” Suddenly she dropped her head. “I confess it was also a bit romantic.” She blushed a deep red when Jane laughed and Elizabeth chuckled.

  Elizabeth held one hand to her head. Her laughter had increased the pain, but she was determined to hear the entire story before she fell asleep again. “Did Mama witness this?”

  Jane and Mary exchanged glances. “Yes,” Jane replied, drawing out the word, “but she was more upset that you were injured. I am uncertain if she noticed the gentleman carrying you.”

  “Mmm.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes but said nothing else.

  “I am sure it will come to her eventually.” Mary said what Elizabeth would not.

  “Mary!” Jane’s admonishment held little heat and quite a bit of amusement.

  “I am only speaking the truth.” Mary sniffed and lifted her chin. She could not maintain a ser
ious mien for long, however, and soon giggled. Jane and Elizabeth joined in her merriment for a couple minutes, until Elizabeth grasped her head in pain and moaned.

  “I am sorry, Lizzy.” Mary stood to help Jane ease their sister back onto the pillows.

  “It is nothing. Please do not worry.” Elizabeth’s voice was a whisper. “Will you tell me more later? My head ….”

  “Of course we will. Rest. We shall be here when you wake up.”

  Elizabeth heard Mary’s words and felt Jane’s cool fingers brush the hair off her forehead. The fingers were replaced by a cool, damp cloth, and soon, she was asleep, the pain fading away.

  ~~~***~~~

  Elizabeth slept the rest of the day and all the night. Every time she awoke, one or both of her sisters were in the room with her, a circumstance that was a great comfort to her.

  When Elizabeth awoke the following morning, her father had joined Mary and Jane in attending to her.

  “Good morning, Lizzy.” Bennet greeted his daughter as he took a seat in the chair beside the bed. “Jane tells me you are feeling a little better.”

  “I am. My head still aches, but not as terribly as it did at first.” Elizabeth’s brows creased as she spoke, for Mary had opened the curtains and the sunlight suddenly flooding the room hurt her eyes and head. She lifted her hand to block the light.

  Bennet twisted in his seat and spoke to his younger daughter. “Please close those a bit, my dear. I think the light is too much for your sister.”

  Mary jumped into action. “I am sorry.”

  Elizabeth sighed in relief when the room became dimmer. “All is well, Mary. Thank you.” She smiled at her younger sister, who smiled back before she turned away to prepare some clean clothes for Elizabeth to wear.

  Bennet drew Elizabeth’s attention back to himself when he began to speak. “Do you remember anything yet about the bull and your rescue?”

  Elizabeth shook her head, her brow creasing again, this time in thought. “No. It is a total blank, as though everything in my mind has been erased.” She sighed. “It is frustrating, even more so that simply trying to think gives me pain.”

  Bennet nodded. “I imagine it would be frustrating. What is the last thing you do remember?”

  Elizabeth’s answer was tentative. “I think I might remember teasing you about the horses and the farm; but, I do not know if I am recalling the day I was injured or a different day.”

  Bennet looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap. “I see. If I am correct, it was the day you were injured. Your mother had fussed at me to allow Jane to take it to visit Netherfield.”

  Elizabeth could only shake her head. “I do not know. I wish I did.”

  Bennet paused but, before his daughter could open her mouth to fill the silence, spoke again. “You have no memories of the bull chasing you, or of Mr. Darcy intervening?”

  Shaking her head, Elizabeth replied in the negative. She rubbed at the ache behind her forehead.

  “I have spoken to him, to Mr. Darcy.” Bennet tilted his head to catch Elizabeth’s attention. When he had it, he continued. “Mrs. Lancaster witnessed him lying atop you. No rumours have reached Longbourn as yet but I am certain it is only a matter of time before they do. You know her propensity to exaggerate as well as I do. As I told your gallant rescuer, there is only one solution to the dilemma in which we now find ourselves.”

  “What dilemma?” Elizabeth rubbed her head again. She felt a great deal of confusion, and not a little fear. She did not understand what her father was trying to say, but was certain she was not going to like it, whatever it was.

  Bennet blinked. It was not like his second daughter to be slow to grasp a problem. “You were compromised, my dear, and the entire town knows it, or soon will.”

  The crease between Elizabeth’s brows that had been there almost from the moment her father sat at her bedside grew deeper. “But … I thought you said no rumours have reached us. There is no need to panic unnecessarily, is there?”

  “In normal circumstances, I would agree with you. However, these are not normal circumstances. I have strongly suggested to Mr. Darcy that he make an offer for you, and when he does, I insist you accept him. A known gossiper has seen you in a compromising position; your sisters’ futures could be negatively affected by the tales she spreads.”

  Elizabeth sat, dumbfounded, her mouth hanging open. She closed it with a snap, and swallowed. “And this gentleman agreed to this? To propose to a total stranger?” She paused. “What makes you think I will agree to it, for that matter?” She gripped her head in both hands. “I want to marry for love, Papa, not because some female with more looks than sense makes up a story about me. I will not marry a man I do not know.” Elizabeth’s speech ended on a whisper, followed up by a moan. She collapsed to her side, pain spearing through her head.

  Bennet’s eyes grew wide as he witnessed Elizabeth crumple. He called Mary and Jane over from the other side of the room and then sat on the edge of Elizabeth’s bed. He ran his hand over her head. “There, there. Do not take on so. I am sorry to have upset you. You will comply, of course, but we can speak about it again another time.” He leaned down to kiss her head, then rose and moved out of her sisters’ way. With a last look at his ill daughter and a concerned frown, he quietly left the room.

  Chapter 5

  Upon reaching the bottom of the staircase, Bennet paused. It was unsettling to witness his normally strong and independent second child struck down, and he needed a distraction. He looked toward his book room, thinking of the Plato on his desk, but the thought of losing himself in the flow of the Latin words did not give him the peace it usually did. A ride, he thought. I will have Hermes saddled and ride into Meryton. That is just what I need.

  A quarter hour later, Bennet was on the back of his gelding, headed toward the nearby market town. He nudged Hermes into a trot, enjoying the increased speed and rocking motion of the ride. When he reached the edge of the town a few minutes later, he pulled on the reins, slowing to a walk. Eventually, he stopped the horse in front of the circulating library. The proprietor of the library also sold books, and his shop had therefore become one of Bennet’s favourite places to be. He dismounted and tied the animal to a post, then made his way inside.

  Bennet finished his business quickly, having ordered a specific volume and paying the annual subscription fee for his family. He strolled outside and looked up and down the street to see who was there before stepping off the wooden walk, dodging horses, carriages, and wagons, to make his way to the tobacco shop on the other side.

  “Bennet, how good to see you.” Sir William Lucas, in the store to make a purchase, greeted his old friend. “What brings you to town this fine day?”

  Bowing, Bennet returned Sir William’s greeting. “I have a few things I need and today seemed just as good as any to get them.”

  The two gentlemen passed a few minutes in conversation, with Bennet assuring his friend of Elizabeth’s good health, before Sir William concluded his transaction and left the shop. Bennet perused the tables, making a mental tally of what he wished for, then approached the shopkeeper. He was almost finished making his order when Hugh Long entered the shop.

  “Bennet,” the gentleman greeted. “My steward informs me your daughter was nearly trampled by my bull! How is she?”

  “She is improving. She hit her head on a rock when her rescuer pushed her out of the way; it left her out of her senses for a few hours, but she is awake now.” Bennet frowned. “Did your man explain to you how that animal escaped its enclosure yet again?”

  Mr. Long shook his head. “He says the gate was left open. He tried to blame Tommy, but I took a look at the latch myself. It has been damaged somehow. Most likely, Caesar simply pushed his head against it and it popped open. He is a smart one, that bull, so he has probably learned to open it himself in that manner. I was sorry to have him injured.” He shrugged. “But I am glad he did not hurt anyone.”

  Mr. Bennet lifted his chin. “I s
ee. Has the latch been repaired?”

  “It has. I checked it just this morning. He will not be getting out again.”

  “Good, good.” Bennet paused. “Have you heard anything about the incident, other than what your servants told you?

  Mr. Long looked guilty for a moment, but answered readily enough. “I have.” He glanced at the proprietor, who was packaging Bennet’s order, then leaned close to Bennet and whispered. “I have heard the stranger behaved in an ungentlemanly fashion.”

  Bennet’s lips thinned but he nodded. His reply was every bit as soft as his friend’s was. “Indeed.” Thereafter followed a brief conversation that left Mr. Long … and the sharp-eared shopkeeper … with much to share.

  ~~~***~~~

  When Bennet arrived home after his visit to Meryton, he settled into his book room, satisfied with the success of his venture. He leaned back in his favorite chair, a glass of port in one hand and a cigar in the other, and imagined the pleasure he would have at giving away one of his daughters in marriage. She will be safe from my heir, and I will have nearly one hundred pounds a year freed up for my use.

  At the reminder of Mr. Collins and his visit, Bennet sighed. “I should warn my wife, I suppose, and suffer through her theatrics.” With a frown, he snuffed out the cigar and drained the glass before pushing himself up and out of the chair.

  ~~~***~~~

  “What do you mean by waiting until nearly the last minute to tell me this?” Mrs. Bennet fanned herself vigourously with her handkerchief. “Why must he come at all? He only wants to count the silver and gloat that all this will be his one day!”

  “You are likely correct, Mrs. Bennet, but nevertheless, he and his wife are due to arrive at Longbourn in just over two weeks.” Bennet paused as four of his girls entered, and seated themselves on sofas and settees. “I wish to speak to all of you in a very serious fashion.” He looked each daughter in the eye until the girl acknowledged him, then did the same with his wife.