The Darcys and the Bingleys

by Marsha Altman

  ***

  Charles Bingley sat in his chair in eager anticipation. “I could get used to this. Too bad I have no remaining sisters. Though, the bit about Lord Kincaid was most unpleasant, but I have many years to learn more about checking into people’s finances before my daughter comes into society. But as usual I am babbling on, and you have something very important to ask me.”

  Actually, Maddox was grateful for the reprieve, for it gave him time to collect himself. “Mr. Bingley, I would like to request your sister’s hand in marriage.”

  “Granted.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “I feel with all good conscious I must remind you—”

  “Of your financial state. Yes, well, Caroline’s been riding on the family fortune for years, as have the Hursts, so I see no reason not to add another person to the list, provided you are not a gambler, which I imagine you are not. Though, I feel I must inquire as to what exactly your income is—for propriety’s sake.”

  “I—I have some savings, a few thousand pounds, what I’ve saved since completing my medical training. And my yearly income at best is another five hundred, but that is entirely dependent on my patient list.”

  “Your patient list would improve dramatically, I imagine, if your own social standing increased,” Bingley speculated. “And there is the matter of you being a very talented doctor. So I cannot say that you are entirely without fortune and bring nothing to the marriage. Not that it is relevant at all to this conversation. If you make Caroline happy, then you are doing all that is required to be my brother-in-law.” He stood up and approached the quivering doctor. “I suppose we should shake on it? Is that how it’s done? I would usually ask Darcy, but I could hardly bother him at this juncture.”

  So they shook hands. This was not enough for Bingley who grabbed Maddox and embraced him. “Welcome to the family. I hope you will find it to your liking.”

  “I think I will,” Maddox finally managed to say.

  ***

  Now formally engaged, there was no problem with the immediate issue of keeping Caroline and Maddox properly apart except at social functions because he was still living with the Darcys. The most pressing matter, now that this one was passed, was, in fact, getting his approval for their return to Chatton. Darcy insisted they go on ahead of him for Jane’s sake and then lamented very loudly that he was disgusted that since his injury no one seemed to be listening to a word he said.

  Dr. Maddox finally gave his consent for the journey, provided they proceed appropriately slowly and that he oversee the Darcy carriage’s progress entirely. At long last, the carriages bearing the Bingleys, the Hursts, the Darcys, and one affianced doctor could start out from Town, heading north toward Chatton and a very expectant wife. “Just in time for Christmas,” Mr. Hurst gurgled, and Bingley had to admit that, this year, the holiday had been very far from his mind.

  On the first rest stop, Dr. Maddox took the time to try to get Darcy to get up and move about with the rest of them and, finding that he could not, practically forced a dose of laudanum down his throat. Only afterwards did Darcy thank him, which was his way of subtly admitting that he was, in fact, in some considerable pain. When the doctor was sure the laudanum had taken effect, they loaded back into their carriages and continued on the journey. Darcy leaned on Elizabeth’s shoulder, drifting in and out.

  “He’s pretending to be asleep,” she said to Maddox, “so he doesn’t accidentally say anything ridiculous.”

  Maddox said nothing, but he did notice Darcy smile after she said it.

  The trip proceeded more smoothly then, at least for Darcy and the two other occupants of the carriage. Dr. Maddox buried himself in a book, which amusingly, he had to read with his glasses removed and the text pushed right up to his face. The title was in Latin, and when asked he said it was a very boring medical text and that he would gladly switch to something more amusing to be read aloud if he had anything with him.

  On their third day of travel and near the borders of Derbyshire, the carriage abruptly stopped when the one in front of it did. Eventually the carriage door opened with such ferocity that Mr. Bingley practically tore it off its hinges. “Doctor, if you would, it seems we are needed in Chatton most urgently, and they have sent riders for us.”

  “Is it—?”

  “Yes, Elizabeth,” he said. “It is a month earlier than expected, but I suppose it isn’t an exact science after all. Or perhaps it is—I am not the expert on the subject. But Jane is . . . very expecting. Now.”

  “Then I must go with you,” she insisted.

  “I cannot possibly ask that you leave—”

  “’M fine,” Darcy mumbled. “Lizzy, ride with them.”

  Maddox coughed, and this apparently was enough of a reminder.

  “Bingley, can you give us a moment to confer?” Elizabeth said, as Maddox climbed out. “A very short moment, I assure you.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  With the door closed, she turned to her husband, “Darcy, I cannot ride.”

  “I told you,” he said, his voice slurred. “I will be fine.”

  “No, I mean—I cannot ride.” Since he wasn’t at his full senses, she whispered the full explanation.

  “Oh.” It took him even more time to process this news. “Well, then . . .” he broke up in laughter. “I love you.”

  “As do I.”

  He put his hand on her belly. “What shall we name it?”

  “George.”

  Darcy only nodded and closed his eyes. Elizabeth held her laughter until they got him out of the carriage and started off with much greater haste for Chatton Hall.

  ***

  Even the expectant servants of Chatton were not prepared for the onslaught of three overly worried individuals storming in the door, two having ridden on horseback following the other in a coach, barely allowing time for their coats to be removed. The only person immediately in their range was Mr. Bennet, whom Bingley shook by the shoulders. “How is she?”

  “I have no idea. Being a man, they won’t let me on the same floor as an expectant woman. But she has not delivered, that much I know, and the midwife and my wife are tending to her. But I see you have brought a doctor—”

  “Yes,” Bingley said as quickly as possible. “Mr. Bennet, this is Dr. Maddox, who is very accomplished and also Miss Bingley’s betrothed.”

  “Very good—what?”

  “It will be explained, Papa,” Elizabeth said, “when there is not something else pressing.”

  As the three new arrivals ran up the stairs, Mr. Bennet said, “I hope at least he’s not Scottish!”

  ***

  Jane Bingley was in her bedchamber surrounded by her mother, the midwife, the nurse, and several servants. Her face was showing the strain of a woman in the throes of labour, but she was not screaming or otherwise overwhelmed. In fact, she still had a great deal of her senses about her. “Charles!”

  “Jane!” he said, practically tossing everyone in his way aside, including his mother-in-law, who would surely object to his intrusion in any other circumstances, as he ran to his wife’s side and embraced her as he could, considering her position and girth. “Oh, my lovely Jane, I am so sorry for the delay! I had no idea—”

  “It came about so quickly,” she said, “but—I am told I am hours away. You are here with plenty of time. Lizzy!”

  Elizabeth took up her place on the other side of her sister, a place she would not relinquish for some time as she grasped her hand. “If I could have come any sooner—”

  “I know. Please, while I am between pains, how is Darcy?”

  “Enduring the other Bingley and Hursts as we speak. Though perhaps Miss Bingley is not so terrible after all.” With that, she shot a look at Dr. Maddox who was holding his bag and quietly waiting to be introduced. “But he is recovering well, thanks to the doctor here. Jane, this is Dr. Maddox who is responsible for my husband’s good health and is Miss Bingley’s fiancé.”

  “Mrs. Bingley,”
the doctor bowed.

  “Oh. Hello, Doctor—what?” Jane said. “I thought—”

  “It’s a very long story. One I would be happy to tell you,” Elizabeth said, “whenever you are ready. But at the moment, would you consent to an inspection?”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” said the overwhelmed Jane who turned to her husband as Dr. Maddox opened his bag and began removing various instruments. “You will confirm that?”

  “I gave my consent. It seems love will not be stymied.”

  “To Caroline Bingley?”

  “Yes, dear.”

  Dr. Maddox had no comment; he was too absorbed in his examination. He took out a tube of glass, pressed it against Jane’s stomach, and put his ear on the other end, which they all found very odd but did not question. “Sound,” he explained after a minute or so of listening. “It carries better through solids. Well, Mrs. Bingley, my assessment is that you are doing quite well and are some time away from delivery. I know that is not much comfort to you—”

  “No,” she said as she grimaced, clearly in the midst of another contraction. “But, is it not too early?”

  “It is fairly normal for someone under your circumstances. Ah, Mrs. Bingley,” he said very formally, “you are aware that you are expecting twins, correct?”

  The blank stares of the crowd confirmed his suspicion that was not, in fact, the case.

  “Well, then I must be the bearer of the news.”

  “You are sure?” Jane demanded.

  “Quite. There are two heartbeats. And considering your girth . . . yes, I would say twins.”

  “Oh,” she said nonchalantly, and then turned to her husband. “Charles?”

  “Yes?”

  She then proceeded to strangle him by his cravat. Only the collective forces of Mrs. Bennet, the midwife, and the nurse could get him away from her to save him from asphyxiation.

  ***

  Only as the hour grew late and the screams grew louder, so much so that they made their way to the front hallway, did Elizabeth Darcy reappear—and only when she was informed that the other carriage had finally arrived. She embraced her husband, who hobbled in, and gave him the news as it was, that Jane was still in labour and Bingley was hiding in his study for his own safety. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I very much want to sit down,” he said, “on something that doesn’t bounce up and down.”

  She helped him to Bingley’s massive study where he took a seat in an armchair, and she whispered the most recent update to Bingley before disappearing back upstairs. Beside Darcy was Mr. Bennet, who had taken up the business of keeping Bingley from drinking himself into a stupor. Mr. Hurst joined them, and the male sanctuary was filled as Dr. Maddox remained mainly with his patient. In the parlour, Kitty Bennet was joined by Mrs. Hurst, Georgiana, and Miss Bingley so finally had some entertainment.

  “All things considered, I think I should say you look much recovered and quite well,” Mr. Bennet said to Darcy. “But the fact of the matter is I have never seen you worse.”

  “You didn’t see him two weeks ago,” Bingley said. “Drink, Darcy?”

  To his great surprise, Darcy answered, “I would appreciate it, yes.” And he took a shot of whiskey and downed it like it was meant to be medicinal, which it probably was. “What is the news?”

  “I am having twins. You?”

  “Wife pregnant,” he said. “Triplets, surely.”

  “Oh, this again,” Mr. Bennet said with a roll of his eyes.

  “To be sure?” Bingley said.

  “She is fairly sure. And now we have a doctor in the family to confirm it.”

  “Convenient,” Mr. Hurst said, already taking advantage of the free-flowing alcohol with a large glass of whiskey.

  “Yes, yes, we must all endeavour to come down with horrible diseases that only he may cure,” Mr. Bennet said.

  “I will demur,” Darcy said, “having already fulfilled my obligation to make him worthwhile.”

  “So it is true, then,” Mr. Bennet said. “He is affianced to Miss Bingley. It seems I am terrible at predicting marriages. The only one I got right was Jane, and I did not verbally predict it. I let my wife do that.”

  “No one predicted this.” Bingley defended his father-in-law.

  “I did,” said Mr. Hurst.

  “Then you will be the best man, perhaps,” Bingley said. “For it seems I must give her away, so I am unavailable, and Darcy can barely stand up.”

  “I will remind you, Bingley, that Lord Kincaid did me the favour of shooting me in the left side, leaving my right arm available to run you through once I am recovered,” Darcy said.

  “How very nice of him,” Mr. Bennet observed.

  ***

  Jane’s labour continued into the night, which was by no means unexpected, and many residents and visitors retired. Darcy refused to do so, but he did fall right asleep in the armchair in Bingley’s study, and Elizabeth was satisfied with covering him with a blanket, as she was very busy herself. The Hursts retired, and Kitty was very excited but as a maiden was not permitted to be part of the group surrounding Jane, so she also went to her room with an annoyed huff. Mr. Bennet gave up around the eleventh hour, complaining of his old, stiff body and invaded the female sanctuary upstairs to give his eldest daughter a kiss on the forehead before turning in for bed. Mr. Bingley stayed awake only with the help of his servants, who he demanded rouse him hourly with reports of Jane’s disposition, but otherwise he was asleep facedown on his desk.

  No one was watching Caroline Bingley, and Elizabeth first saw her again when she was going for more towels. Dr. Maddox was staying wide awake by ingesting what seemed to be gallons of tea, and Elizabeth turned a corner and saw him taking another pot from Caroline. Not wanting to invade their privacy, she stepped back behind the corner but did peer over to see Caroline give him a kiss on the cheek before he went back to Jane’s room.

  Only Jane’s agony was keeping Elizabeth and her mother awake. She screamed; she cursed a number of curses that they could properly identify; and she damned her husband to the ends of the earth. (Fortunately he was not there to hear it.) The midwife remained in the room, but Dr. Maddox gave the orders, especially now with the dangerous complication of two potential newborns. Between contractions, Jane was told the entire tale of the adventures in Town, including both conspiracies to get Miss Bingley out of one marriage and into another. As this was done in front of Dr. Maddox, he blushed and turned away but did not flee with a patient in the room needing his expertise. Jane commented in a rare moment of lucidity that she rather enjoyed the story or would take the time to enjoy it upon retrospection when she was not otherwise engaged.

  Eventually there was the inevitable; Jane’s contractions would not cease, and even the most uninformed person in the room could tell it was her time.

  “Pray for sons, Jane dearest,” Mrs. Bennet said, holding her hand.

  Jane gasped, “Dr. Maddox, if you are as proficient as they say, then please quicken the process!”

  “That, sadly, is beyond my abilities,” he said quietly, and merely told her to push.

  ***

  Charles Bingley’s first response to being shook awake was to sit up and shout, “Yes, yes, I consent! By God, yes!” It was then that he came to his senses and, unfortunately, realised that he not only had a pounding headache but a doctor standing over him. “What? What is it?”

  “Happy Christmas, Mr. Bingley,” Maddox said.

  Charles squinted at the grandfather clock and noticed the time. “Yes, I suppose it is Christmas Eve—or day. Is it day?”

  “I believe it is. Now.” Maddox looked at his watch. “It is precisely four thirty-two in the morning.”

  “Oh.” Charles settled back. Things were coming to him slowly, “Um—”

  “You have a son, Mr. Bingley, and another daughter. Congratulations.”

  Bingley looked up at Maddox, who obviously hadn’t slept a wink and was staying up only by force of will at this point. �
�And Jane?”

  “I would hurry if you wish to catch her before she is sound asleep.”

  “Thank you. Thank you, Doctor.” He grabbed Maddox’s arm and shook it so violently that he nearly tore it off. “Thank you so very much—um, Daniel.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “And, uh, I guess someone should do something about Darcy,” Bingley said in passing as he pushed passed Maddox and raced up the stairs. Darcy was still asleep in the armchair.

  ***

  The Bingley twins, as they would be referred to for some time, had the fortune to be different genders, because otherwise they were almost identical in appearance. Both of them had a small tuft of blond hair like their mother, and both of them were squealing tiredly when Bingley entered the bedchamber, seated himself beside his wife, and took one then two infants into his arms.

  “Congratulations,” said an exhausted-looking Elizabeth, who then moved out of the way so Bingley could see Jane, who was finally able to lay on her side. Jane’s eyes were heavy and bloodshot and her natural motherly glow somewhat lessened for the expected reasons, but she still managed to smile softly at Bingley.

  “Shall we name them?” she said, her voice hoarse.

  “Now? We can think on the matter, but . . . I would very much prefer the boy to be named Charles.”

  “I do like the name Charles,” she said, and gestured, and Elizabeth passed the boy to Jane, or more accurately, laid him beside her on the bed.

  “Perhaps we can finally convince your father to let us name the girl Elizabeth,” he said, cradling his second daughter.

  “Perhaps,” Jane said, and seemed to be drifting into sleep.

  He kissed her and had the nurse take the babies and put them in their cradle. He turned to Elizabeth. “Thank you. Happy Christmas.”

  “Happy Christmas.” She was clearly too tired to curtsey. She left without another word, and as she was gone, Charles collapsed on the bed next to his wife and fell asleep.

  Chapter 11

  Mr. Dabby of Pemberley and Derbyshire

  Dr. Daniel Maddox left the Bingleys’ chambers to find a servant waiting for him. “Your room, Dr. Maddox,” he said, gesturing vaguely, and Maddox was too tired to do anything but follow. He was shown not to the servants’ quarters but to a proper guest room where he unceremoniously dumped his medical bag on the nearest available surface. The servant in the wig, dressed more finely than he was, did not leave, however, but seemed to be expecting some command. Before the good doctor could think of anything, he was helped out of his clothing and into proper bedclothes. He slid between the fine sheets with only the vague recollection that that was how he used to be treated so many years ago, as the remaining candle was snuffed out for him.