by Anne Morris
She was shown into the breakfast parlor as apparently the family members were late risers and still lingering, and where her appearance set up quite a stir, especially between the two sisters who could not understand she would walk there to see Jane because of such a trifling notion as Jane's having a cold.
"But the weather—what is the weather like this morning?" cried Mrs. Hurst.
"It is a fine morning," said Elizabeth.
"But after so much rain it is not doubt…dirty," said Miss Bingley as though she were discussing something illicit, but illicit and disgusting, not illicit and titillating.
"It is muddy and there are puddles," admitted their guest.
"Your affection for your sister in coming is admirable," said Mr. Bingley. "I am certainly pleased to have you come." Elizabeth turned to him with a smile. She still stood facing the group at the table as though on display. "Should you not like to sit down and join us Miss Bennet?" he asked, and moved to pull the chair between him and Mr. Darcy free. She looked from Mr. Bingley to the cold uninviting face of Mr. Darcy and shook her head.
"Do join us," seconded Miss Bingley who did emulate her brother's politeness though not with the same good humor.
"I wonder if you might tell me how Jane is doing?" asked Elizabeth, who sat down reluctantly feeling like she could not refuse the invitation then, though she only accepted a cup of tea.
"She did not sleep well, poor dear," said Miss Bingley, "and I believe her head bothers her greatly. The light hurts her eyes so we have kept the drapes drawn."
Elizabeth thanked Miss Bingley for every attention they gave Jane. Mrs. Hurst expressed sorrow that her dear friend was so sick and promised that the apothecary was to call soon. Neither Mr. Hurst nor Mr. Darcy said anything to her. Elizabeth was finally able, after ten minutes of receiving their sympathies, to be taken to her sister.
• • •
She spent the day with Jane in her rooms. The two ladies joined her at various times to sit with the patient who remained feverish and kept to her bed. When the apothecary came, he confirmed the cold, promised some draughts to help relieve her symptoms, and advised she remain in bed. Elizabeth stayed by her side never leaving her for a moment.
At three o'clock, Elizabeth stated her intention of leaving and Miss Bingley was so kind as to offer her the carriage which Elizabeth gratefully accepted. Jane, however, expressed great concern over Elizabeth going and leaving her side. Elizabeth looked at the two Netherfield ladies, smiled, then looked down at Jane.
"I really must go home, Jane, you will be in good hands with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley," and she patted Jane's hand which was lying on top of the counterpane.
"You have taken such good care of me, Lizzy, as you always do. You are the best sister," said Jane. "I hate to see you go, stay a little longer at least," pleaded the invalid.
"I believe we are the will of our hostess and her carriage, dear Jane. I am wanted at home too," she said gently, "I promised Simon this morning to spend the evening with him; we are to play…"
"Soldiers," Jane answered for her then smiled weakly. "You love all of us so much, Lizzy." And a tear leaked from the corner of one eye. Not a flood of them, just a single tear.
Elizabeth felt truly torn then and looked over at their two hostesses who had watched the exchange. She looked back at Jane again.
"I do not wish you to go, Lizzy. I am truly feeling unwell," said Jane.
"I believe we should fix up the room next door, Miss Bennet, that you might be able to stay and nurse your sister," said Miss Bingley. Jane's face brightened considerably at that offer, and Elizabeth, still feeling torn, smiled at Jane and turned to accept the offer with a nod and with thanks.
• • •
Darcy had watched her silently during dinner. Miss Bingley exerted herself during the meal to play the mistress of the house role, inquiring of Miss Bennet about her sister—despite having seen her an hour earlier—and discussing how grievous a thing it was to so suffer. He felt she did not quite carry off her sympathy to Elizabeth Bennet, especially since Mrs. Hurst was more indelicate about the sufferings of others, though she claimed to always be in perfect health herself.
Elizabeth Bennet excused herself early to return to her sister. He realized how little she must feel she fit in, or how little she valued the society of these women, when Caroline began abusing her guest almost as soon as she left the room. He knew Miss Bingley was unhappy about the change of venue from the city to the country, but he was surprised by the amount of venom she inflicted on this guest, and which Mrs. Hurst readily agreed with. If the tale was correct, Elizabeth Bennet had been quite reluctant to stay, more eager to return home.
Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst spent some time in venting themselves on Miss Elizabeth's person as the result of her walk through dirty lanes and wet fields, while Bingley, ever the gentleman, defended her. It was always such the way with Charles to be knight errant and to simply exercise best manners, even when the only people to impress were his sisters. The source of mirth—abuse of Elizabeth Bennet—continued with the sisters decrying Elizabeth's waywardness, and Bingley ever defending her honor.
"What do you think of her fine eyes now?" asked Miss Bingley, leaning over and saying it in a whisper while Charles was still speaking.
"I believe that exercise brings a certain spark to her eyes," replied Darcy. It had been true. She had been shown into the breakfast parlor as though pushed through the door by the wind; her hair untidy, it was true. He thought she would make a pretty picture standing at the top of a windy hill, one hand to keep her bonnet on, the winds puffing her skirts out, and yet laughter on her lips, color on her cheeks, and brightness in her eyes as she braved the wind and the elements. It was a very pretty mind's picture, and he did not attend the two women belittling both of their guests, nor truly recall what the gentlemen spoke of during their separation as he continued to consider such an elemental picture.
• • •
They played at Loo when they were all back together, and Darcy lost himself in only thinking through the plays.
"You are certainly lost in thought tonight, Mr. Darcy," exclaimed Miss Bingley.
"I am considering each hand, concentrating on my cards," he answered.
"Bravo!" cheered Mr. Hurst, who lived principally to eat and for sport, and took card games quite seriously. They all five played through another hand.
"Do you suppose she will join us?" asked Caroline Bingley.
"Who do you mean?" asked her brother.
"Jane Bennet is not likely to get up from her sick bed to join us now, is she?" said Mrs. Hurst.
"Miss Elizabeth is a devoted sister. I doubt she will leave her charge's side to join us. Perhaps we ought to get Nicholls to sit with Miss Jane and relieve her that she might have some respite?" suggested Bingley looking between his two siblings. The sisters were not sure what to do about that charitable suggestion, neither wished to have the interloper join them, but to deny the suggestion would be ill-mannered.
Miss Bingley pasted a smile on her face. "Yes, of course. I shall see to that at once."
Elizabeth had had no intention of joining the Netherfield party again that evening, but felt she should join them for thirty minutes at least after the housekeeper was sent to relieve her. Jane was sleeping, and Mrs. Nicholls assured Elizabeth she would call her if Jane awoke.
She found the party at cards but declined playing saying she only meant to stay below a short time. Mr. Hurst commented on the singularity of refusing a hand of cards and assured her they could accommodate Miss Bennet if she wished to join them. When she refused again he, his wife, and sister-in-law looked at her with surprise.
"What shall you do?" asked Mr. Hurst. They were not going to stop their game to converse with her, and Elizabeth wondered at them then sending the housekeeper to fetch her down.
"I will select a book if I may—one I might take back with me when I sit with Jane?" asked Elizabeth.
"I wish my collection we
re larger," said Mr. Bingley, "for your benefit then and to my credit; but I am an idle fellow; and though I have not many books, I have more than I ever read." Elizabeth assured him that she was content with those in the room.
"I am astonished," said Miss Bingley, after their hand had finished, "that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy."
"It ought to be good," replied the gentlemen in question, "it has been the work of many generations."
"Is that your estate Mr. Darcy, 'Pemberley'?" asked Elizabeth, looking up from her book.
"Yes," he replied, "in Derbyshire."
"There is no finer county in England than Derbyshire," cooed Miss Bingley. "Charles, when you buy property and build your house, do so in Derbyshire."
"I am of that opinion, Caroline, and agree with you on that point," replied her brother. "When I get around to purchase; I shall purchase in Derbyshire."
"You have both fallen in love with Derbyshire?" Elizabeth looked between the two siblings, then over to the third. "How do you feel, Mrs. Hurst, is this something you subscribe to as well, a love of Derbyshire?" asked Elizabeth, she placed a finger to mark her page as she looked between the faces of all three.
"I love London, which is why I married Mr. Hurst; he has a house in Town," replied Louisa Hurst. "I believe Caroline and Charles share the same opinion because they have always shared the same opinion; they are twins you know."
"No, I did not know that!" declared Elizabeth, who then looked with greater scrutiny at the two Bingley siblings. She knew about twins but had never known any living pair and so often thought of them as being of the same sex, not one of each. Elizabeth had read that they were often close and shared a deep bond; she wondered if Mr. Bingley and Miss Bingley shared such a bond with each other, or if they had once shared that, but that it had lessened as they had grown into adulthood.
Elizabeth, her book chosen, and her appearance made, soon afterward left the room. She found Jane asleep, and Mrs. Nicholls said Jane had not opened her eyes while Elizabeth was away but still seemed restless. Elizabeth could see the flushed color of her sister's cheeks and feel the fire in them when she pressed the back of her hand there. Elizabeth rushed back down to the drawing room to consult with her host and hostess, and it was determined that the apothecary should be sent for, first thing in the morning.
Elizabeth stated she would attend to Jane all night and did so, getting very little sleep as she bathed her sister's forehead and adjusted her sheets when Jane's restless movements knocked them askew. At one point, she thought she heard the sounds of a violin, but then thought that was odd, that one of the residents would be up and playing at three or four in the morning and thought she must simply be overly tired.
The housekeeper relieved her for a few hours of sleep then the apothecary came to say Jane was much the same though he did suggest that they keep her there and not allow her to return to Longbourn. The Netherfield ladies insisted they would not hear of such a thing, and Miss Bingley said they were happy to have both Miss Jane and Miss Eliza stay for as long as was needed. Elizabeth gave her a wan smile and thanked her.
The Netherfield ladies were less in attendance in the sick room this day than on the previous one though the housekeeper did attend to Jane and helped Elizabeth as much as she could be pulled away from her other duties. She even allowed Elizabeth to nap a little and to stretch her legs outside before returning to her sister's room for the evening.
• • •
Miss Bingley had suggested that they walk together in the gardens before tea, but he could not find her so Darcy headed outside without waiting. He knew he should have waited, but restlessness had come over him despite the lack of sleep the night before. Even his playing had not been able to charm him into sleep, and he had no idea what was roiling inside, but Darcy knew it would eventually reveal itself.
It was cool, but at least permissible to come outside if wrapped up well enough, and he strolled on the broad avenues of the formal gardens, enjoying the exercise without any real destination or purpose besides delight in the exercise itself. Darcy thought he heard a sound and turned to look for Miss Bingley, thinking she had finally made it outside—despite some pressing household responsibility—but did not spy her on those wide walkways. He began then to meander into the lesser-used paths, still lying straight, but smaller and shorter, and with different statuary to capture his eyes. He often did not go that way as he so often had a lady on his arm and the width of the walkways prohibited two, side-by-side, comfortably.
Elizabeth Bennet sat on a bench, and he thought at first she was admiring a copy of some Roman statute. Then he realized that she was crying, though she was also attempting to control herself as she had seen or heard him approach; her arms were crossed over her chest, each hand holding the arm opposite, her mouth was firmly closed while she breathed deeply through her nose. He stepped backwards a step or two to give her privacy, but she looked up, his movement catching her eye so he stopped.
"You are well?" It was obvious that she was not, but he must speak. Polite society rules meant she would beg off, say she was 'perfectly fine,' and he could turn and leave her to her tears.
"No," she said, letting go of the hold on her arms, and he could see some attempt to bring herself under further control. He curled his fingers up into his palms at the honest answer, and then looked away from her before he looked back, wondering what he was to do. He had no resolution with tearful women; he had often sent Georgiana to her governess, or simply said yes to her request to get her to stop crying.
Darcy took a step forward. "What is worrying you?" There, he said something. He did not offer her anything; just made a slight inquiry but then further enlightenment hit him. "Is it Miss Jane that has you worried?" Something passed over her face.
"Yes, I do worry for Jane," was her reply. "It is difficult when one is so worried about one's family members."
He looked at her and could see the concern plainly on her face. "We shall have the apothecary back again, would that be of some help to alleviate your concerns?" She said nothing. A mother's advice was needed, he considered. "Perhaps Mrs. Bennet might come to look at Miss Jane and give her opinion as well? She must have a recommendation, as she has surely nursed your sister through other childhood ailments?" That idea produced a small upturning of Elizabeth's lips, and she nodded her head.
"Yes, thank you, Mr. Darcy. That would be of help." He stood there across the small garden area and wondered if she needed more time alone, or if he should escort her back inside. She looked so vulnerable just then he did not think he should leave her by herself.
"Shall we return to the house?" He was still yards away from her, and yet he asked, and she stood.
"Yes," she replied. Darcy did not offer his arm, and they made it all the way to the main walkway side-by-side, but not arm-in-arm, before Miss Bingley found them.
"I thought we were to go out together," she said, "I see you found another companion and left me quite in the lurch."
"I waited for you, but feared you were distracted with household duties, my apologies," he nodded. Miss Bingley came to claim his arm. "Miss Bennet should like to call the apothecary in to see Miss Jane again, and would like to have her mother come visit as well, to give her opinion on the nature of her illness." As Darcy was the one informing her of the request, Miss Bingley had nothing to truly say against it and acquiesced. They agreed Mrs. Bennet should be sent for, first thing in the morning. Elizabeth thanked her, and then said she had been away from Jane long enough, and ran into the house, leaving the two of them outside.
"I wonder that you were distracted by a certain pair of fine eyes," said Caroline Bingley, "and forgot about me entirely."
"No, I did not walk out with her; I came upon her in the garden by herself where she shared with me her worries about her sister," he said. "You need not fear that her fine eyes have induced me to forget what I owe you, Miss Bingley."
• • •
Elizabeth came down after dinner with her book. The party that evening was quieter. Mr. Hurst could not induce the entire party to play cards, but Bingley sat down with him. The two sisters discussed playing at the pianoforte and began looking over music. Mr. Darcy sat writing a letter; he was slow at its composition. He found himself more than usually distracted by his companions and with the composition of this missive.
Miss Bingley always took an interest whenever he wrote a letter to Georgiana as though she could not bother with such a thing herself, and she would call out greetings to send to his sister or little comments as they struck her. He would then need to pause and see if he could, within reason, fit them into his sheet of paper and into the train of thought he was currently penning.
He was considering how to put off Georgiana's come-out next spring. Georgiana had been asking for it to the point of begging, but she would not be seventeen until the summer, and he knew she was too young, a point his aunts both agreed about. She, however, had been adamant that she should have her come-out sooner, and was pestering him in every letter about allowing her to be presented next May. Georgiana wished to come to Darcy House with Mrs. Younge and to be able to have her share of society and its pleasures. He frowned as he thought about what to say to her.
Miss Bingley called out to him about how delighted Miss Darcy must be to receive such a letter from him—if only Caroline knew what he was actually writing about, she would think otherwise. He attempted another sentence to ensure that Georgiana understood she would not have a Season in the spring and that his wishes were clear, and again he found himself interrupted by Miss Bingley.
"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year, Mr. Darcy! Letters of business too. How odious I should think them," she said looking at him. He looked over at her then found that Miss Elizabeth had looked up from her book at him with a small smile.