The Angel of Longbourn

by Rowland Jann

  Mr. Bingley, who had called, was a tall, fair gentleman, with a hint of red in his hair. He was a gregarious sort of man, quick to smile and laugh, and quite well-favored, indeed. Even more in his favor was the reported five thousand pounds per annum which was his fortune, a rumor which had gone through the village like wildfire upon his arrival only the previous week. With him, he brought his sister, a Miss Caroline Bingley, who was shorter than her brother—though tall for a woman—elegantly dressed, and quite obviously impressed with herself, if her sneer and her frequent looks of disdain were any indication.

  The introductions were completed and then Mr. Bingley turned to the business which had brought him to Longbourn. “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley. “I understand it is not polite to come in all this state when we have not been introduced.”

  “I believe Mr. Bennet visited you,” said Mrs. Bennet, a statement which brought to Elizabeth’s mind the scene from the previous week, when Mr. Bennet had teased his wife by claiming he had no intention of visiting. “We do not stand on ceremony, sir.”

  “Excellent!” exclaimed Mr. Bingley. “But we have not come for merely a social call. I understand that you are housing a stranger, and since I seem to have misplaced my friend, I thought I would come and inquire if they are one and the same.”

  “You have misplaced your friend?” asked Mr. Bennet, seemingly amused by Mr. Bingley’s turn of phrase.

  Mr. Bingley cheerfully ignored—or completely misunderstood—Mr. Bennet’s ironic tone. “Perhaps misplaced is not the correct way to say it, sir. My good friend Darcy was to arrive yesterday, but he did not come. When his valet arrived this morning, having been delayed by the weather, we were dreadfully frightened. Darcy is not the sort of man to miss an appointment.”

  “Indeed,” replied Mr. Bennet. “In that case, if you will follow me, we can determine whether our guest is your friend.”

  The two men stood and exited the room. Elizabeth noted that Miss Bingley would have gone with them if any excuse would have sufficed for her to do so. Instead, she glared at her brother’s retreating back and maintained her seat. Mrs. Bennet, seeing a captive audience, immediately began to speak to her, but it was soon clear—to all but the Bennet matron—that the conversation was decidedly one-sided. Mrs. Bennet spoke at great length and enthusiasm, but Miss Bingley rarely replied with more than a monosyllable.

  When at last Mr. Bennet led Mr. Bingley back down the stairs to the sitting-room, they were speaking easily, though Mr. Bingley was subdued.

  “I am afraid it is Darcy, Caroline,” said Mr. Bingley to his sister. “He has fallen quite ill. It is fortunate, indeed, that the Bennets discovered him and have taken him into their home.”

  “Oh, I am so relieved, Charles,” said Miss Bingley, fanning herself in a manner which was more than a little melodramatic, in Elizabeth’s opinion. “Send for Mr. Snell. We can have Mr. Darcy removed to Netherfield, where he can recover in peace and quiet.”

  “That is not possible, Caroline,” replied Mr. Bingley. “The apothecary has given the Bennets explicit instructions that Darcy is not to be moved, and as he is not yet conscious, jostling him about in a carriage would not be wise.”

  The chagrin with which Miss Bingley greeted this intelligence informed Elizabeth that there was something more than mere friendship which motivated her. “But, Charles,” said Miss Bingley, clearly keeping her tone even by the force of her will, “Mr. Darcy would not wish to be kept in circumstances such as . . . this. We simply must see that he is cared for in surroundings which will make him comfortable. I must insist upon this, for I know it is what he would wish.”

  “You may insist all you wish, Caroline. But the decision is final. Darcy will stay at Longbourn until such time as the apothecary decides that he is improved enough to be moved.” The warning note in Mr. Bingley’s tone caused his sister to start; Elizabeth suspected he rarely used it with her, and the way she subsided suggested that she knew he was not to be pushed.

  “If I may,” said Mr. Bingley, turning to Mr. Bennet, “I believe that I will summon my doctor from town. It is not that I do not trust your excellent apothecary, but I believe another opinion concerning my friend’s health would be welcome.”

  “A prudent plan,” said Mr. Bennet. “I believe Mr. Jones himself would approve.”

  “I will, however, send Darcy’s valet, a Mr. Snell, to Longbourn to assist in his care.” Mr. Bingley smiled. “The poor man is quite beside himself with concern over his master’s fate and will be quite relieved and eager to assist in his care.”

  “Of course, Mr. Bingley. Send him by and we will assure that he is housed with us. His assistance would be most appreciated.”

  A momentary silence settled over the company. Miss Bingley was sulking over her failure to carry her point, while most of the rest of the company realized that she was insulting them with her insistence on removing the sick man from the house. Even Mrs. Bennet, who had greeted Miss Bingley and treated her with deference, sat considering the young woman, her slight frown showing that she did not appreciate Miss Bingley’s words. Kitty and Lydia giggled together, as was their wont, but for several moments, little of substance was said.

  “I believe you mentioned that Mr. Darcy is your friend?” asked Elizabeth, more to fill the uncomfortable silence than anything else. “Have you known him long?”

  “Since our days at university,” replied Mr. Bingley. His cheery tone showed that he had instantly forgotten the uncomfortable silence and was eager to make conversation. “Darcy was three years ahead of me and helped me gain my feet and make my first few days at Cambridge bearable.

  “He is, you understand, a prominent man in society, with the highest of connections.” Mr. Bingley smile was wry. “I, on the other hand, come from a line of tradesman. The other students were less than inclined to accept me without his support.”

  The look that Miss Bingley shot her brother was aghast. “We are not in trade any longer, Charles.”

  “Indeed, we are not,” agreed Mr. Bingley easily. “But you cannot deny our background, Caroline.”

  Much though you would want to, Elizabeth finished Mr. Bingley’s sentence in the silence of her thoughts. Knowledge of Miss Bingley’s background revealed the woman’s character to Elizabeth. She was nothing more than a social climber, and one who had likely set her cap at a high-ranking gentleman. Unaccountably, Elizabeth hoped that this Mr. Darcy was intelligent enough to understand the motivations of his friend’s sister.

  “Darcy is a marvelous friend, Miss Elizabeth,” continued Mr. Bingley. “He has never cared about my background, and he has always considered me to be an equal.” Mr. Bingley paused and laughed. “Well, I suppose I must own that Darcy, being the master of his own estate, and possessing considerable experience in the ways of the world, has often counselled me in various matters. But as I am a fish swimming in strange waters, I am quite happy he has taken the trouble to do so. A better friend and a better master you could not find, not if you searched the length and breadth of England.”

  This flaming character Mr. Bingley gave his friend set Elizabeth to thinking, but it soon became clear that Mr. Bingley did not suffer from her lack of contribution to the conversation. It was not many minutes before Mr. Bingley was speaking almost exclusively to Jane, and if Jane’s shy smiles and carefully calm responses were any indication, she was quite happy to be the subject of his attentions.

  When the visiting time had passed, Mr. Bingley stood with his sister to depart, once again thanking the family for their care of his friend and promising that he would bring the doctor by as soon as the man arrived. Miss Bingley said relatively little, and she went away apparently feeling like she had been cheated of her due.

  “We have some interesting new neighbors, do we not, Lizzy?” asked Mr. Bennet as they climbed the stairs to check on their—now identified—guest.

  “I do not know that ‘interesting’ is quite the adjective I would us
e.”

  Mr. Bennet laughed. “I suppose it depends on your perception. Mr. Bingley is quite the puppy, and he seemed to be smitten by our Jane almost instantly. But then again, it seems the puppy can bare his fangs when the situation demands it.”

  “I dare say he can,” said Elizabeth, laughing along with him. “As for our other guest, it seemed like we are not quite high enough for her liking.”

  “I am not surprised that you saw it too,” replied Mr. Bennet. “Your mother seemed to be quite put out with her, after her performance concerning Mr. Darcy’s stay here. Do you think she suspects we will attempt to entrap this Mr. Darcy?”

  “Since I believe she would do anything—including entrapment herself—to become Mrs. Darcy, I would not be surprised if she suspected us of being equally desperate.”

  Father and daughter again shared a chuckle. “You see aright, as always, Lizzy. I shall charge you to ensure she does not manage it at Longbourn. We would serve the young man very ill, indeed, should we allow the huntress to capture her prey while he is under our protection.”

  “I will do my best, Father.”

  Mr. Bingley’s physician arrived the very next day, and he confirmed Mr. Jones’s diagnosis in every particular.

  “Though typhoid can often be unpredictable, I expect that a man of Mr. Darcy’s health and fitness will be able to fight it off. In these initial stages, however, you must ensure he does not burn his reserves of strength fighting against the fever. Once there is no danger from fever, I am certain he will recover, though it will not be pleasant for him for some time.”

  And saying this, the physician went away, telling them to summon him at any time should the patient’s health deteriorate. Mr. Snell had arrived the previous day, and had immediately taken charge of Mr. Darcy’s care. When told that Elizabeth had been seeing to Mr. Darcy’s needs, he had initially looked on her with suspicion, before declaring that he would see to his master’s care himself. His manner, though not precisely superior, was at the very least edgy, and it seemed like he did not trust anyone to watch Mr. Darcy as well as he could himself.

  “Mr. Snell,” said Mr. Bennet, “you cannot look after your master at all hours of the day, or you shall make yourself exhausted. Our Lizzy can assist you in caring for him, as she has already been ill with the same malady.”

  Mr. Snell looked at Elizabeth, and had she not known he was a servant, she might have thought him as haughty as a duke. “I do not think it would be proper, sir.”

  “I am certain that Mr. Darcy will not mind.” Mr. Bennet paused and regarded the man. “You have your master’s best interests at heart, sir, and it is to your credit. We also have only your master’s recovery in mind, and it is clear that you cannot see to his care without resting yourself. If you wish to care for him at night, my Lizzy will see to him in the mornings, and our other servants can assist.”

  When Mr. Snell hesitated, Mr. Bennet said: “I assure you, we have no nefarious purposes in mind. Please accept our assistance in the spirit in which it is intended.”

  “Very well,” said Mr. Snell, though his tone suggested that he meant to be watchful. “But the young miss cannot see to him once he awakens.”

  “Agreed,” said Mr. Bennet. “I have already discussed that stricture with her. Once he is awake, it would not be proper.”

  And so it was decided. Elizabeth continued her routine of watching Mr. Darcy in the mornings, and though Mr. Snell was watchful and appeared suspicious, Elizabeth thought he relaxed soon, as he seemed to understand that Elizabeth did not mean to take advantage of the situation.

  Mr. Bingley became a frequent visitor at Longbourn, often sitting in Mr. Darcy’s room, though he was equally likely to be found in the company of Longbourn’s eldest daughter. Of Miss Bingley—or of the elder sister and her husband, who they learned were in residence at Netherfield—they saw nothing. It was obvious that Miss Bingley was not happy with the arrangement, and as she saw no benefit in her own attendance at Longbourn, opted instead to stay away. Elizabeth was quite happy for this bit of incivility, for she had found the woman almost intolerable during their only meeting.

  Though Mr. Bingley cheerfully gave his assistance to the task of caring for Mr. Darcy, and the servants and Mr. Bennet also lent a hand, Elizabeth found herself becoming the primary nurse during the days when Mr. Snell was sleeping. But while she might have been annoyed to be left on her own to see to his needs, in fact Elizabeth found that it was not a trial at all. For one, she was curious about him, a fact that she attributed to having been the one to find him in his hour of need.

  Furthermore, as she continued to see to his needs, bathing his face with a cool cloth when necessary or bringing some small amount of moisture to his lips as he lay asleep in the bed, she found herself intrigued. She tried to tell herself that she wondered what kind of man he was, and in her imagination, the praises which his friend had heaped upon him gave her the impression that he was the best of men. But Mr. Bingley’s account was suspect, as he soon informed Elizabeth as a man who was not inclined to look for the faults of others, and indeed, seemed more apt to ignore that which he did not like.

  She was well aware of this, knew that Mr. Darcy’s character might be nothing more than haughty, proud, and disagreeable, one who would be horrified to find himself in such circumstances when he awoke. He may very well be far too high and mighty to pay any attention whatsoever to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who was, after all, nothing more than a country miss, the daughter of a minor country squire.

  But Elizabeth could not see this in him. Her imagination was soon caught by what a handsome man Mr. Darcy was, and though she was not the kind of girl to put much stock in such things, nor was she the kind to swoon at the sight of a handsome man, she felt the first stirrings of infatuation enter her heart. It was not rational. But it was there nonetheless.

  Chapter III

  But for the still form of the man occupying Longbourn’s guestroom, one would never know that anything had changed for the Bennet family. Lydia and Kitty were still invariably silly, and they spent much of their free time gossiping, giggling, and imagining the delights that would accompany the regiment of militia which was soon to arrive in the neighborhood. Mary played the pianoforte and devoted her studies to Fordyce, Mr. Bennet kept to his bookroom, and Mrs. Bennet complained about her nerves and gossiped.

  Subtle changes, however, had begun to affect the family. Elizabeth was much occupied with the care of their guest. She still found ample opportunity to walk the paths about her home, but the weather that year was inclement much of the time, so the added burden of caring for Mr. Darcy did not keep her from her favorite activity so much as the weather would have. Mr. Bennet also deigned to look in on the man on occasion, especially once Elizabeth pointed out that he could read in the sickroom as easily as he could in his book room. He grumbled about it a little, but he also exerted himself, much to Elizabeth’s relief.

  After Elizabeth, perhaps, the greatest change in any of them was reserved for Jane. Mrs. Bennet would not allow her eldest daughter to enter the sick room—not the daughter on whom she placed so much of her hopes of avoiding eventual genteel poverty when her husband died. Jane was kept carefully away from Mr. Darcy, though Mrs. Bennet still spoke to Elizabeth several times a day, instructing her to take the best care of Mr. Darcy and to provide him with the best reports of her elder sister’s many desirable attributes. Since the man was still asleep, Elizabeth decided it was best to simply ignore her mother’s instructions until such time as it became an issue.

  As time wore on, however, Mr. Bingley’s frequent presence at Longbourn and his overt attentions to the aforementioned eldest daughter blunted Mrs. Bennet’s intention of promoting Jane’s interests to the still unconscious man. Elizabeth, who knew her mother’s character very well and understood what motivated her, was amused by Mrs. Bennet’s indecision.

  “I do not know what to do Lizzy,” wailed she, one day when Elizabeth had come down to th
e sitting-room. It was fortunate, in Elizabeth’s mind, that no one else was present in the room, as Jane’s delicate sensibilities would no doubt be bruised by her mother’s unguarded words.

  “What distresses you, Mama?” asked Elizabeth, though she knew well what was troubling her mother.

  “This situation with Jane!” cried Mrs. Bennet, glaring at her daughter as if she were daft. “By all accounts this Mr. Darcy is of a much greater consequence than Mr. Bingley.” Mrs. Bennet leaned forward, speaking lowly to impart a great secret. “I have had it from Lady Lucas that Mr. Darcy’s income is in excess of ten thousand pounds per annum and that he possesses connections to the highest levels of society. I have even heard talk of an earl!”

  Elizabeth wondered how Lady Lucas had come by such information, for Mr. Bingley had not been any more explicit than the mention of high connections.

  “I do not understand how it could affect us at all,” replied Elizabeth.

  “Lizzy, how can you be so tiresome? You are well aware that I am considering Jane as a prospective wife for Mr. Darcy.”

  “Perhaps you have managed to wake Mr. Darcy when I was not present, Mama, but I have no knowledge of any wish for a wife, or any interest in Jane in particular.”

  “Of course he has not woken! But you must know that a man of his age and position in society must be in want of a wife. And who better than our Jane? She is beautiful and sweet, and perfect for the role of the wife of a man of high society.

  “But now Mr. Bingley is paying such exquisite attentions to her!” continued Mrs. Bennet before Elizabeth was able to say another word. “He is handsome and amiable, and he, too, is in need of a wife. But Mr. Darcy would be much better able to care for us. I know not whether to take the bird in hand or beat the bush for two!”

  “Mama,” said Elizabeth, the implacable tone of her voice drawing her mother’s attention, “before you plan Jane’s life and marry her off to a man she has not, after all, even met, I suggest you consider her wishes.”