Folly and Forgiveness

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Folly and Forgiveness Page 2

by Lizzy Brandon


  “I am certain she loves me,” Bingley spluttered.

  “I have seen no indication as I have watched you,” Darcy said, knowing they were now entering the most difficult part of the discussion. “She certainly receives your attentions with pleasure, but I have seen nothing that leads me to believe her heart has been touched.”

  Bingley looked around the room, blindly. Darcy allowed him time to think and consider. Now was not the time to push too forcefully. He had made his argument and had to hope his friend would hear the sense in his concerns.

  “You do not think she loves me?”

  “As I said, I have seen no evidence to that effect.”

  Bingley walked to the window and looked out upon his grounds. Darcy knew his friend was searching his memory, trying to find some example of Miss Bennet’s love. Bingley’s continued silence on the subject was painful to witness, but convinced Darcy even more that he was correct. He hated to see Bingley suffer this way, but could not call himself a friend if he was not willing to point out the potential errors in a course of action.

  “I am certain she loves me,” Bingley said softly, but his voice lacked his earlier conviction.

  “In a love match, both parties should feel the same degree of attachment, would you not agree?”

  Bingley nodded, but did not speak or turn to face his friend.

  “Though you say you love Miss Bennet, I must question your degree of attachment as well. You have described her as little more than an ornament. She is very pretty, I grant you, but a fair face will fade in time. You say she is kind, and I will grant that she has not the viciousness seen in many ladies hunting for a husband, but kindness is not love. Why do you love her? If you insist on marrying for no benefit other than love, then your reasons should be those that are lasting, and her feelings should be no less strong than your own.”

  Bingley made no reply as he continued to stare out the window, but he was obviously considering Darcy’s words most carefully.

  Darcy stepped back. “I plan to leave for London in two hours. I hope that you will join me. I believe you have much to think on, and that thinking is better done away from here.” Bingley nodded again and Darcy decided to give him some privacy for his thoughts. He turned to leave just as a knock sounded on the door.

  “Enter,” Bingley called.

  “Excuse me Sir,” Bingley’s valet said as he bowed and entered the room.

  “Watkins, please pack my things. I will be travelling to London with Mr. Darcy in two hours.”

  “Yes, Sir,” he replied, glancing between the men. “Forgive my interruption, Sir, but I have heard news I thought you would wish to hear.”

  “What is it?” Bingley asked, his gaze still fixed outside.

  “One of the housemaids just returned from town and reported that Mrs. Bennet has suffered a most grievous injury. The apothecary was rushing to Longbourn. As it sounded quite serious, I thought you may wish to know.”

  Darcy held back a snort as his lip curled. Given Mrs. Bennet’s histrionics, she had likely stubbed a toe. Bingley, however, gave the news far more import than it likely deserved.

  “Do you know anything more? How seriously is she injured?”

  “It seems she fell down the stairs. From there, the maid heard various stories that she had broken a bone or suffered a head injury. All that was certain was that Mr. Bennet had called for the apothecary with great haste.”

  “Thank you, Watkins,” Bingley replied in dismissal as he turned and began to pace.

  “Bingley –”

  “I know, I know, you think it a trifling problem made to seem of great import. I likely would too if it were not Mr. Bennet urging haste. I must go.”

  “What do you think to do?”

  “I must see the seriousness of the incident. Miss Bennet will be in distress and I feel I must offer her what support I can. If the injury is truly of minor significance, then we will continue to London. If the injury is life threatening, then I feel I must offer Miss Bennet what assistance I can.”

  “If the injury truly is that serious, then Miss Bennet will be busy seeing to her mother and will not have time for you.”

  “I do not intend to stay long, if she is unavailable then I will leave word that I called and wish her mother a quick recovery.”

  “Very well,” Darcy said, holding back a sigh. “I will come with you.” The sooner he could convince Bingley nothing serious was amiss, the sooner they could leave for London. Darcy would not be surprised if Mrs. Bennet had overstated an injury for sympathy. Darcy suspected Mrs. Bennet would not be above causing herself an injury if she thought doing so would bring Bingley to Longbourn to inquire after Jane.

  ~ ~ ~

  The gentlemen arrived at Longbourn on horseback and espied Charlotte Lucas walking up to the home. She turned and walked back to them, shielding her eyes from the sunlight as she looked up.

  “Good afternoon Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy. I am afraid the ladies of the house are not able to entertain visitors today.”

  “Good afternoon Miss Lucas,” Bingley replied, “We had heard that Mrs. Bennet had suffered an injury, is this true?”

  “I am afraid it is, the apothecary left not long ago. Mrs. Bennet fell down the stairs and suffered a head injury.” Charlotte gave a quick look around to make certain none of the Bennets were nearby. “We must wait and see, of course, but the apothecary does not hold much hope of her regaining consciousness.”

  Charlotte stepped back from the horses as Mr. Bennet walked out of the house.

  “Good day Mr. Bennet,” Bingley called.

  “I am afraid it is not, Mr. Bingley. We are, unfortunately, unable to accept guests today.”

  “Of course, Sir. Miss Lucas was just telling us of your wife’s injury. May we extend our deepest sympathies and wishes that she may recover soon.”

  “I thank you.”

  “Have you sent for a physician?” Darcy asked.

  Mr. Bennet looked up at the man. “Miss Lucas went to inquire of her father if he knew of someone he would recommend. We have been a healthy lot and have never needed the services of a physician before today.” He turned to Charlotte. “Have you any word?”

  “I am afraid I do not. The only physician my father was acquainted with unfortunately died this past summer.” Mr. Bennet’s face fell at the news and he looked away.

  “If I may, Sir,” Darcy began, “I would be happy to send for my physician.”

  “I would be exceedingly grateful to you,” Mr. Bennet replied as some of the worry left his face.

  “Think nothing of it. I will see to it at once and we will leave you. Please convey our sympathies to your family.

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet said, continuing to look upon the man for a moment longer. He blinked as he remembered himself and turned, “And thank you as well, Mr. Bingley. If you will excuse me . . .”

  “Of course. Good day Sir,” Bingley replied and he and Darcy both turned their horses to head back to Netherfield.

  “Good of you to offer your physician,” Bingley said as they rode.

  “It is nothing,” Darcy replied. He was a man uncomfortable with thanks, especially when he was only doing what was right. As much as he disliked Mrs. Bennet, he wished her no ill. From what Miss Lucas had said, the effort was likely for naught, but a physician’s presence would offer some comfort to Miss Elizabeth, or rather, all of the Bennets.

  CHAPTER 3

  Elizabeth stood at the foot of the stairs. She had no idea how long she had been standing there. From the moment she saw her mother lying on the floor, time seemed to have slowed. She heard Jane and her father call for servants and watched as her mother was carried to her room, but Elizabeth seemed unable to move. Hill ran up the stairs, carrying a tray. Jane came down the stairs and directed someone to fetch the apothecary immediately, but still, Elizabeth found herself unable to move. All around her people rushed, stepping around her when necessary, but largely ignoring her. She heard her younger sist
ers crying upstairs before a door closed and muffled the noise.

  “Eliza? Eliza, did you hear me?”

  Elizabeth turned her head to see Charlotte standing next to her, holding her hand.

  “Elizabeth, come with me.” Charlotte gently tugged on Elizabeth’s hand until Elizabeth began to walk with her, away from the stairs. “Come and sit,” she ordered as she led Elizabeth into an empty sitting room. “Tell me, what happened?”

  “I do not know,” Elizabeth mumbled as she stared vacantly around the room. “She was so angry with me. I refused Mr. Collins and she was so angry.”

  “Here,” Charlotte said as she handed Elizabeth a handkerchief. Elizabeth was not sure why Charlotte had done so until a tear splashed on the back of her hand.

  “I could not marry Mr. Collins, no matter how hard she pressed. I . . . I said horrible things. She looked at me as though I had slapped her, then said she would not speak to me again. She ran into the house and then there was a scream and a crash and Jane kneeling by her body at the foot of the steps.” More tears dripped upon her hand, but Elizabeth just squeezed the handkerchief, uncertain what to do.

  “Calm yourself, Eliza. Mr. James has been sent for, so we must be patient. I already invited Mr. Collins to dine at Lucas Lodge and walked him there myself. My mother wished to come and offer her assistance, but I thought the best service she could provide would be to tend to your guest, so you need not worry about him.” Charlotte squeezed Elizabeth’s knee and Elizabeth looked at her.

  “What can I do for you? Can I get you some wine? Do you wish to lay down? I’ve already put your youngest sisters to bed with some tea with a drop of laudanum. I feared their hysterics would only cause more problems.”

  “I thought she was dead.”

  “No Eliza, she is not. She is not conscious, but she still lives. Jane and Hill are attending to her, and Mr. James will be as well soon enough. What can I do to help you?”

  Elizabeth looked at her friend. Charlotte had taken care of all of them to free Jane to focus on their mother. Elizabeth, who had always prided herself on keeping her head regardless of what situation arose, had done nothing but stand and watch as others had taken over the tasks she should have handled. Charlotte had even temporarily gotten rid of Mr. Collins for them. If Elizabeth were capable of feeling anything besides this overwhelming emptiness, she would have felt ashamed of herself.

  Charlotte took the unused handkerchief from Elizabeth’s hand and reached over to wipe the tears from her face. With that act, time lurched forward and began moving again and Elizabeth began to sob. Charlotte wrapped her arms around her friend and just held her as she shed her tears.

  ~ ~ ~

  Elizabeth awoke, curled up on the settee in the sitting room. The light through the window indicated it was late afternoon, nearly evening. She stretched out the knot in her neck and attempted to smooth the wrinkles in her dress. Her time to fall apart was over. Jane would certainly need her support and was likely exhausted after hours spent without any.

  Elizabeth stopped as she came to the stairs and stared at the floor. It looked no different than it had on any other day. It is only planks of wood. You can and must walk past them. She closed her eyes as she stepped around the spot and then hurried up the stairs.

  Jane sat by their mother’s bedside along with Mary. They both looked up as Elizabeth entered.

  “How is she?”

  “She is resting. Mr. James has been by and will check on her again this evening. He said we must wait and see how she fares. She has a broken rib and a concussion.”

  Elizabeth forced herself to look at her mother. The left side of her face was severely bruised and bandages wrapped around her forehead and temple.

  “The cut to her face was not serious,” Jane interjected. “The bandages make it look much worse than it was.” Jane never wished anyone to worry, and would shield Mary more than Elizabeth. Elizabeth wished they were alone so she could ask more pointed questions.

  “Has she said anything?”

  “She has not regained consciousness. Mr. Darcy has sent for his physician from London, but I am not certain when he may arrive.”

  “Mr. Darcy?”

  “Yes, he and Mr. Bingley came by when they heard of Mamma’s accident. Charlotte spoke to them briefly, but they did not stay.”

  “How did Mr. Darcy come to send for a physician?”

  “Papa had sent Charlotte to ask her father for a recommendation, but Sir William had none to give. When Mr. Darcy heard, he offered to send for his own physician right away.”

  Elizabeth sat back. If her father had sought a physician, then her mother’s condition was indeed grave. Likely it was Mr. Bingley who made the offer to send for a physician. Or Mr. Bingley had sent for Mr. Darcy’s physician. That made far more sense than Mr. Darcy getting involved. Jane likely misheard, given all she was trying to do.

  Elizabeth sat in silence with her sisters, watching her mother’s chest rise and fall.

  Please, God, please let her wake up. Do not let those be our last words to each other.

  ~ ~ ~

  The day passed with no change. Mrs. Phillips had arrived, but was so distressed that she could not sit long with her sister before she had to leave the room. Charlotte had stayed and directed Hill and the other servants so Jane would be free to rest when she was not sitting with her mother. Elizabeth had never been so grateful to have Charlotte as a friend. Having another sensible woman in the house made their job more manageable.

  The physician arrived the day after the accident, but did not offer much hope. He urged them to continue doing what they were doing to make Mrs. Bennet comfortable and to spoon her some broth.

  The day brought the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, which was a great relief to the family, but it unfortunately also brought the return of Mr. Collins. Elizabeth kept to her mother’s room to avoid Mr. Collins when he was in the house. She normally would have sought refuge in her father’s library, but the one time she had attempted to enter that room she was so overcome with memories of her most recent visit that she had to leave before becoming ill.

  Mrs. Gardiner entered the sickroom and took a seat next to Elizabeth.

  “How are you faring?”

  “I am not the one who lies unconscious, so I must be faring quite well.”

  “Lizzy, I am worried about you.”

  Elizabeth gave a short laugh and blinked the tears from her eyes. “Are you worried I will cause someone else injury through my selfish willfulness? I assure you, I am doing my best to be complaisant.”

  “Elizabeth,” her aunt scolded. “You are not to blame and I will not hear you speak so. You had every right to refuse Mr. Collins’ offer. The more I see of him downstairs, the more I am convinced that the two of you would suit each other not at all. Your mother has her fears for your future, and was naturally worried, but you cannot take the blame for her accident.”

  “Of course not,” Elizabeth responded, well aware of the words expected from her. “Still, I cannot help but feel responsible that our last words to each other were filled with such animosity.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, afraid more tears would leak out if she left them open as she spoke. “I only pray they are not the last words we speak to each other on this earth.”

  Mrs. Gardiner took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “We all pray she will recover and soon. Have you tried reading to her?”

  “I am half afraid the sound of my voice would convince her to stay asleep.”

  “Lizzy!”

  “I have never been her favorite daughter, and she now has more than enough reason to be angry with me. I am certain she would much rather hear anyone else’s voice.”

  “For all your disagreements, your mother loves you just as much as her other daughters. Admittedly, your relationship with her is less harmonious than the others, but it does not follow that she does not care about you. Her insistence upon your marrying was her own, albeit misguided, attempt to take care of you. Ho
wever, if you are so certain she would rather hear anyone else, then let us ask Mr. Collins to come up and read her some sermons.”

  Elizabeth smiled and looked over at her aunt. “I am not angry with her. There is no reason for me to inflict such a punishment upon one already suffering.”

  “I am glad to see you still remember how to smile.”

  “I do,” Elizabeth replied, “But I find I have little cause to use one.”

  “Read to your mother,” Mrs. Gardiner ordered as she gave Elizabeth’s hand another squeeze. “It would do you both good.” With that, she left the room.

  “Well Mamma, what shall we read? I will not force you to listen to sermons as doing so would be counterproductive to my goal of having you awaken. I shall have to find a novel for us.” Elizabeth reached for her mother’s hand and continued to sit.

  “Please wake up, Mamma. If you are trying to get me to accept Mr. Collins, I will gladly grant your wish. Right now, you can name your price, for I would quite willingly do anything to have you awake and berating me.”

  Elizabeth continued to sit in silence, not truly expecting any response. As much as she wished to deny it, Elizabeth knew her mother was getting worse. After a while, she picked up the book Kitty had left behind and began to read to her mother.

  CHAPTER 4

  Mr. Collins was feeling put out, but uncertain how to proceed. As much as he did not wish to remain in the same house as a pretentious girl foolish enough to refuse him, he still had another day before Lady Catherine expected his return. He dared not risk his ladyship’s displeasure by returning early without having secured a bride-to-be. After her condescension in recommending that he find a wife, he felt he owed it to her to do so. Nevertheless, he found himself at a loss. The household was still in a bit of a state, given Mrs. Bennet’s condition. The Lucases had been so kind as to invite him to dine with them the last two evenings, but he did not wish to trespass upon their kindness. He had tried to provide spiritual comfort to his cousin in these dark days, but Mr. Bennet avoided everyone and kept to his library.

 

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