When Mr. Darcy Met Lizzy

by Mary-Anne Seaton

  "It seemed you do not have a fancy for the militia," the man observed.

  He was Mr. Denny—Norman Denny. From all intelligence that Charles had gathered seated silently on the table as he had all evening, he was content to see that the officers were content to sit on the table and converse about wars and unrest while leaving him aside to observe them. Charles did not mind the exclusion in the least and thereupon, mildly wondered what it was that shifted the officer's attention to himself. Perhaps, he wondered, it was the large bacon even now sticking on his lips. Hurriedly, he drew the hanging bacon into his mouth and made to reply to the question addressed to him- and promptly choked. After several slaps on the back, as administered by Darcy and two full cups of water, he was revived to his healthy self with a decision in mind- the feat of making conversation with a mouthful of bacon was achievable, but only for the likes of Colonel Forster.

  Most fortunately, the subject of his disinterest in the conversation around the table was forgotten by his little table 'accident' and when it was over, Mr. Denny did not reiterate his question. In fact, he was now talking about repairing to London during the approaching weekend for a few days before returning to Meryton.

  "And the purpose of your visit- if you wouldn't think me too rude to ask?" Darcy asked the man. "I thought officers were not at liberty to leave their base at will."

  Bingley thought it quite curious that his friend had interest in such matter as the travels of a military officer, but the man took no offense in his reply.

  "You are right Mr. Darcy; but the truth is that I have been summoned and thus the reason. The note impressed upon us the potential addition of a new commission to our corps and I am saddled with the responsibility of escorting him down here along with some other such small tasks in town."

  Darcy nodded his head as if he had just received uncommon intelligence and proceeded to visit the meal in front of him which he had barely touched all evening.

  The end of the meal was vast relief for Bingley; fortunately the rain had stopped and he was of the first to jump up in his seat and express how time had flown in the company of such fine men. This was not said in mockery or irony; far from it. Bingley meant his every word because through the discourse, he had learnt such small things from his quiet observations that he was certain he would not encounter elsewhere save during dinner with officers of a military regiment. Unlike Darcy who enjoyed the company of the men based on the discourse, and Mr. Hurst who enjoyed only the food immensely, Bingley enjoyed the evening only based on his removed observations. The officers were not excluded from becoming affected with words of praise and beamed at Bingley for calling them 'fine gentlemen'. His sincerity was seen in his eyes and felt in his handshake and everyone concluded that it was indeed an evening well spent in the best of company.

  Mr. Hurst promptly fell asleep as soon as they were settled into the chaise.

  In the chaise and on the ride back to Netherfield, Darcy mentioned his observation that Bingley was studying the officers rather than partake in the discussion. He then entreated that his friend render to him an account of the different personalities of the officers that he was able to gain intelligence thereof. Bingley obliged most willingly- taking it upon himself to regale Darcy with his observations in the process of dining with the 'fine gentlemen' officers.

  "While Colonel Forster seems a strong solid man of repute, I would rather say that he is too rigid in his opinions- he cannot be easily persuaded on a matter, I am afraid."

  Darcy nodded, the colonel's staunchness was commendable but he was inclined to be unbendable in so many a matters like in his opinion that Great Britain move forward to demolish all French army.

  "As for Officer Denny, he is quite young- twenty and three, I would say; but his strength of character is admirable." Bingley continued, "That one is as plain as paper and I daresay that he can be loyal to boot for a cause he deems worthy."

  And so did the analysis of the militia characters engage the attention of the two gentlemen as they rode on to Netherfield while Mr. Hurst slept on. The road was rough and their chaise fell into a puddle a number of times, but they both were scarcely aware, so engrossed were they. Mr. Hurst also did not awaken, indeed his snores increased with each shake of the carriage. Upon entering into Netherfield, Bingley was immediately set upon by his sisters while Mr. Hurst immediately sought his bed in a drowsy manner. As a consequence of the rain and cold in the air, Bingley expected that his sisters would be in bed; Caroline especially detested being up on a rainy night, but they obviously had been waiting for him.

  "Miss Bennet is here- I invited her to visit and I am afraid that she has caught a terrible cold while riding here on horseback," Caroline informed him immediately.

  For a moment, Charles could not fathom what she spoke: "Jane?" he asked stupidly.

  "Of course, Charles; how could you ask?" Caroline cried. "Which other Miss Bennet did you think I would invite? Jane is the only agreeable one of the lot!"

  "Keep your vice down, Caroline, she might hear you," Mrs. Hurst whispered.

  Charles ignored the drama and asked, "She caught a cold, you say? Where is she then?"

  "Above stairs in the room next to mine- lucky thing it was not too dirty; I had it dusted out immediately upon her arrival seeing her in that sorry state," Mrs. Hurst declared proudly.

  Bingley was already bounding up the stairs with Darcy on his tail, leaving the women no other alternative but to follow. He hoped that her situation was not bad; he would hate to see such fine woman laid down on a case of illness.

  They saw Jane Bennet sitting up in bed, reading a book.

  "I had no idea that you were awake," Caroline cried, flushing guiltily as she shared a look with her sister.

  "I roused but a few moments ago and found that sleep eluded me. Thinking you must all be in bed thereat, I sought the solace of a book to lull me back to sleep," Jane explained.

  "And the cold?" Bingley asked, gazing upon her face in sympathy and tenderness.

  "Gone, thank you for your kindness," Jane smiled warmly, "and you too- Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst; I wouldn't have such speedy recovery save your kindly care."

  "Make no mention of it," said Caroline.

  "Would you like some food or perhaps, broth?" Mrs. Hurst inquired.

  "No, nothing at all," Miss Bennet murmured with a little reticence in her voice.

  "I think that Miss Bennet is overwhelmed by our profuse attention," Darcy commented drily, having been observing the lady lying down in the bed in layers of cloth and a wrapper closely wrapped around her form. "Since she declares her cold gone, I believe we should retire and let the book lull her back to sleep as she originally planned."

  Miss Bennet smiled gratefully at him as they all took to his advice and left the room, each thinking different thoughts as they did. Miss Bingley was thinking what wonderful people they really all were upon this further acquaintance; she had also seen the worry in Mr. Bingley's eyes for her and inwardly delighted in what it may represent. The Bingley sisters were glad that the day was finally over and they could seek their beds. Darcy's mind was back to the intelligence he had gathered from his dining with the officers. Bingley was thinking that he had never beheld a lady more handsome than Miss Bennet; she looked particularly pretty with her hair let down her back and her eyes calm from sleep.

  In another half an hour, the entire house was as quiet as a graveyard.

  Jane Bennet felt worse for wear in the next morning. Her throat ached, her eyes burned and her nose was running something fierce. Worst of all, was the fever that ravaged her body. Mr. Bingley was the first to check on her as soon as he arose from bed and she beseeched upon his kindness to summon the ladies to attend to her. She made no mention of her predicament to him but one look at her flushed face informed him of her state and he made haste to send a servant to call on Mr. Jones, the local apothecary, as soon as he dispatched Caroline to Miss Bennet's bedside. He then went to inform Miss Bennet that she would be unable
to leave for Longbourn until the apothecary arrived, attended to her and deemed her fit to travel.

  With weak hands, Miss Jane Bennet wrote a note to her sister, Elizabeth, to inform her of the deterioration in her health status, lest they worried when she failed to reach home. Caroline Bingley received the note from her and remitted it to a servant to deliver to Longbourn with alacrity. Then, she had the cook make broth for Miss Bennet and attended to her till Mr. Jones made an appearance.

  Chapter Nine

  Elizabeth Bennet was most impatient to arrive at Netherfield. She was of the opinion that her two sisters had caused more delay in her journey than increase her pace of travel. Catherine and Lydia had volunteered to accompany her as far as Meryton on her walk to see Jane upon receiving her letter earlier in the morning.

  "How can you be so silly as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt!" her mother had cried in horror when she made known her decision to walk to Netherfield for the sole purpose of seeing Jane as a means of ascertaining her health status. "You will not be fit to be seen when you get there."

  Her reply that being fit to see Jane was all that she desired had halted any other opposition from Mrs. Bennet, while Mr. Bennet informed her of the application of the horses on the farm. She had thus affirmed her willingness to walk the distance to which Mary said:

  "I admire the activity of your benevolence, but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required."

  Elizabeth had disregarded her selfish comment, reminding them all that it was at their prompt that Jane had gone despite the threat of rain and as such, they were all responsible in a way for her illness. It was then that Kitty and Lydia had volunteered their company all the way to Meryton and Elizabeth gratefully accepted. However, Kitty and Lydia had a penchant of dallying over scenes and people that interested them such that Elizabeth was certain that her journey might have fared better in their absence. However, their company was pleasant as always and perhaps, she might have enjoyed it better were it not for her anxiety for Jane.

  Presently, they reached Meryton and Kitty and Lydia waved her off, requesting that she gave Jane their warmest regards and well wishes for a speedy recovery. Elizabeth acquiesced, promising that she would do as they wished and continued on her journey, widening her steps as her legs would allow.

  The letter had indicated that Jane only had a sore throat and a headache but Elizabeth worried that her condition was indeed worse; she knew her sister- Jane was ever careful not to stir trouble and would therefore deliberately make little of her plight. The rain of the day before made the journey particularly difficult to navigate as puddles filled the earth and where there were no puddles, the earth was wet causing no small amount of dirt to cling to her long dress. This, Elizabeth scarcely noticed- her main purpose was to reach Jane.

  A gentleman was calling for Miss Caroline Bingley.

  The news so astounded the inhabitants of the house that it was considered a veritable mistake in its occurrence. It was none so close to noon and the visit was most unwelcomed by the woman sought who had only just awoken from sleep and finished with her toilettes.

  She received the man in the parlour, coming down the stairs with an air of discontentment at the intrusion so early in the morning.

  "My lady," the man bowed when she approached him.

  Miss Caroline sighed in annoyance. The man was none other than Jeremy Sheffield with whom she had danced once on their first ball since repairing to Netherfield and another time at Sir Williams. He was also the son of Netherfield's closest neighbour. Perhaps, he thought as a consequence of the dance, he was therefore familiar with her and as such could call on her any time of the day. Caroline Bingley could barely wait to set him straight on this errant thought. She had no desire to befriend any of the country folks.

  "Mr. Sheffield," she said in a voice filled with indifference for his generous smile and courtesy. "Is it commonplace in the country to call upon a lady before noon?"

  The ridiculous man failed to grasp the sarcasm in her address but sat himself after she did and responded with good nature, "Yes indeed, it is here; we are all early risers in the country and as such, calling is just so."

  To this, Caroline designed not to reply because she feared that she might insult the man directly were she to utter a word in response to his folly.

  "To what do I own this unsolicited visit then?" she asked impatiently.

  "I would like to seek your permission—and your brother's, of course, to court you," the man announced without prelude or pretence.

  The announcement so shocked Caroline that she was unable to withhold the laughter precipitated thereof. Her laughter lasted a full minute in its entirety and when she raised her head to observe the man and ascertain her hearing capacity, the confused look set upon his face set her into another fit of amusement. Achieving composure at last, she addressed the man, a little of her mirth still evident on her face.

  "Are you saying, Mr. Sheffield, that you wish to propose to me?" she asked.

  For his stupidity alone, Caroline thought that Jeremy Sheffield deserved to be hanged. The clueless man nodded and reiterated his desire to court her. His attitude informed Caroline that nothing but a clear refusal will set him on his way. He was obviously obtuse and too thick in the head to adhere to anything less than a firm decline said in the most stately manner. A remembrance of Charles' taunting premonition about a proposal from a country gentleman caused her to tighten her resolve to nip this nonsense in the bud. No doubt, Charles would still laugh at her for this realization of his premonition and Caroline decided that Jeremy Sheffield was to blame. She did not propose to be nice to him. Thus, she proceeded to inform him that she was from the town and he, from the country. She informed him of their difference in social class and standard; reminding him that he was only the son of a clothes' merchant while she had twenty thousand pounds for her dowry alone. They were entirely too set apart to be anything but neighbours.

  Jeremy Sheffield left Netherfield with his tail hanging between his legs most mortified and rightly put in his place as Caroline Bingley saw fit. He met with Elizabeth Bennet, riding on his horse and away from Netherfield, but he made no greeting to her nor did he respond to hers.

  Everyone in the household was seated in the breakfast-parlour, evidently in the process of eating breakfast when Elizabeth was shown to the room. Even though she had not given the man more than a few thoughts since the last time they conversed at Sir William's ball, Elizabeth was disconcerted that the first pair of eyes to draw hers was those of Mr. Darcy. He looked quite astonished to see her also.

  "Miss Bennet! Why in the world are you looking like... this?" Miss Bingley cried in embarrassment.

  "I am afraid I had to walk from Longbourn all the way here whereupon my receipt of Jane's note," she told them plainly. "Our horses are otherwise engaged on the farm."

  Her announcement had the impact of a gunshot. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst gasped loudly, Mr. Hurst's gaze sharpened, looking at Elizabeth most critically, Mr. Bingley stood on his feet to approach her and Mr. Darcy shook his head slightly.

  Feeling impatient to see Jane, she fretted on her feet and her gaze found Mr. Darcy's again; and, he was regarding her with a most satirical eye- no doubt, he must think her reckless for her walk and in consequence, her dirty look but she couldn't care what he thought. Impatiently, she turned her gaze to the rest and she was greeted with a semblance of his expression excepting Mr. Bingley's who stood now in front of her, regarding her with warmth and kindness and something akin to gratitude.

  "I will take you to see her immediately," he informed her and did just so.

  A maid was in the process of cleaning the room when Bingley and Elizabeth walked in and the maid surreptitiously left the room. Jane cried in weak delight on seeing her sister and Mr. Bingley smiled kindly- he was certain that Jane's recovery could only be quicker with her sister in attendance. He left the siste
rs by themselves and made his way back to the breakfast parlour.

  "I knew you hadn't told the whole truth in your note!" Elizabeth exclaimed upon feeling Jane's temple which burned her hand fiercely.

  So weak was Jane that she could scarcely articulate coherently and Elizabeth bid her not to say a word; she then set about the business of making her sister comfortable and cooling her body with water and a rag cloth. An hour later, the apothecary made an appearance to attend to Jane. Mr. Jones declared Jane imposed upon by a most veracious cold and warned against troubling her. With a promise of some draughts to ease the cough and headache, he left. Elizabeth was most disturbed by his pronouncement and began to feel guilty for the part she played in Jane's illness- her failure to speak sense into Jane about riding on horseback with darks clouds of rain apparent imputed an enduring feeling of remorse on her. What she would give to make her sister recover, she thought in despair.

  Though she loathed to leave her sister in such a condition, when it was nigh evening, she stood to go to which a carriage offer was made in prevention of her taking the long walk again. However, Jane protested to her going and the entire household bid her stay too. To this she agreed to stay with Jane for as long as it took for her sister to recover. No idea had she that she and Jane would be staying nigh a week and that she would in this manner, come close to changing her opinions of Mr. Darcy and everyone else in the household for that matter.

  Chapter Ten

  The dreadful man is looking at me again.

  Elizabeth Bennet could not for the life of her understand why it seemed to her that the watchful gaze of Mr. Darcy persisted on herself. Dinner was over and after having attended her sister and put her to sleep most comfortably, Elizabeth had joined the others in the drawing room. The night being her third night at Netherfield, Elizabeth fancied that she knew something of the characters of the people in the house to gain some peace for herself and not feel much of an intrusion in their affairs; a way she had been made to feel by the Bingley sisters and Mr. Darcy.