Beginning, Next Section
Author's Note: I know nothing about either law during the Regency era or medicine, so please pardon the assumptions I make; I tried to make them as vague as possible to be as inoffensive as possible.This takes place about the time that Lizzy and the Gardiners would have visited Derbyshire-- some months after the failed proposal in Kent. Also, Lydia doesn't elope in this one. It's just not necessary.
Part 1
Darcy tightened his hold on Miranda's reigns and pushed the horse into an even harder run. He had been dreading this ride for as long as he had been at Pemberley, even as much as he had dreaded returning to Pemberley that summer. Once, he had longed more than anything to show this route to Elizabeth Bennet, and while he still did long to lead her through these paths and see her delight in every lovely view and stream, the longing now brought more pain than pleasure. That she would never be there made the woods echo with her absent laughter, and it was only the knowledge that he had to face this pain, that brought him back here.
"Regret" was too shallow a word for what he felt towards the events that transpired between them the previous year. He was mortified by his behavior, and the utter, endless self-loathing that her severe rejection had brought, coupled with a broken heart that still seeped with pain, had almost undone him. He believed himself to have gotten the better of the faults that were exposed in him that day, but he knew that his transformation sprung from desperation rather than strength of character; he could not live in the world, knowing that he was a man that Elizabeth Bennet would hate.
He was almost to his favorite spot, a little grove that had been the setting of more than one ungentlemanlike fantasy. Even now, he could see her eyes glow with delight as she looked over the landscape, then, turning to him with an enigmatic half smile, take his arm and lead him down to the overhung grounds below.
He pushed away the thought as he approached the grove, dismounting and letting his horse wander down to the stream. The area was just as he had last left it, but the picture of Elizabeth there was so burned into his mind that he couldn't help but feel that it was a shadow of itself.
He heard a twig snap behind him, and, spinning around, almost fainted at the sight of Elizabeth Bennet standing before him. His first thought was shock that this vision could appear so lifelike, followed by dismay to notice that his visions had taken a rather unhappy turn, because the vision in front of him was a sight to be seen. She was thin and pale, hair hanging around her shoulders, dress muddied. Darcy wondered if this new phantom would be the next Elizabeth to haunt his sleepless nights. It was not until she actually spoke to him, calling his name, that he actually allowed for the possibility that the figure in front of him was actually her.
"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth cried out in surprise. Her face, if possible, turned an even more ghostly shade of white, and she sunk to the ground.
It took only a second for Mr. Darcy to recover his senses. "Miss Bennet!" he exclaimed, then, realizing the gravity of her appearance, rushed to her side and, sinking down beside her, asked "Are you unwell?"
It was a stupid question, and Darcy regretted it the moment it came out of his mouth. He regretted even more when, shocked by his presence, the figment in front of him began to weep violently. Her shoulders sagged, her face crumbled, and Darcy had never felt so wretched in his life. His first thought was to reach out and enfold her in his arms, but remembering the substance of their meeting in Kent, kept himself in check. He was certainly the last person in the world to be allowed to comfort her now, no matter what her suffering. Still, he allowed himself to hand her a handkerchief, and, gently, took her free hand in his two.
Elizabeth cried for a long time, and the suspense to Darcy was dreadful. The minutes ticked on, and Darcy so terrified that only knowing that he was being of service was able to stop him from shaking Elizabeth hard and demanding an explanation. Still, the minutes led to possibility after dreadful possibility, and finally he could contain himself no longer. "Miss Bennet," he breathed in barely-contained agony, "Miss Bennet, pray tell me, what is wrong? Are you ill? Why are you in this state?"
Elizabeth took a deep breath, but not, Darcy noticed, without blanching at the movement, and looked up. "Mr. Darcy, I must beg a favor of you. I need to send a message to my family at once, and I need," she looked timidly at him "a place to stay for a short while. I'm sorry for imposing so, but it is most urgent--"
"Of course, of course," Darcy interrupted her, impatiently. Even if she had required Pemberley itself to be transported across the county, he would not have thought it an imposition; he was by nature a generous man, and anything he could give Elizabeth was worth ten times the pain to himself. "But you are unwell. You must tell me what has happened to you--"
"I--" and she began crying again. As she cried, the words came flooding out of her; of her visit to her newly married friend, Mrs. Benjamin; of her husband's advances, and finally his attempt to force himself upon her in the woods; of his threats, and of her escape.
"I have been running from him for almost four days now. He has sent out a search for me, and I'm too terrified to go anywhere near civilization. I have no food, no clothing; everything I had has been left at his house, lost to me forever. I have had no chance to send even a letter to my parents. In short, I am lost and alone, and if you don't help me, I shall certainly die here in these woods."
Darcy had been listening to this story with a pain that threatened to break his heart in two. He hastened to assure her that he would do everything in his power for her. The words rung hollow in his head after he said them; there was nothing he could say to convince her that everything he possessed was hers to command.
When she was done and he had made all the pitiful attempts to comfort her that he could muster, he was reminded of their location, and realized that he must get her to Pemberley at once. He asked her if she could walk well enough, and she replied that she could, but when she had stood up and hobbled a few steps, he became convinced that even the relatively short distance back to Pemberley was more than she could endure. He knew she was no horsewoman, but proposed that she ride Miranda, and he would accompany her.
Miranda being summoned back, he assisted her up into the saddle and sat behind her. Although he had been too absorbed by the previous events to pay much attention to her physical presence, he was immediately and excruciatingly aware of her nearness on the horse. She was so close; her back brushed against his chest, her hair tickled her chin, her wrist poised tantalizingly close to his arm. He could smell her, and although perhaps she had smelled better before, the scent was intoxicating. He could barely breathe but every nerve of his body was on fire, every place that she touched him was alive and warm with pleasure and arousal.
They moved at a gentle pace, because Darcy could tell that every jostle hurt her. He was terribly ashamed of himself for enjoying this ride as much as he was, with the Angelic Miss Bennet suffering so profoundly beside him. For her sake, he urged Miranda into an equally gentle, but slightly faster walk.
Franklin, the undergardener, was startled by the appearance of his master and a young lady in the distance. The young lady looked tired and ill, and the master only slightly less so. He saw the Master wave him over and, dropping his tools in the soil, ran over as fast as he could.
"Yessir?" Franklin called out, looking up at his master. He had scarcely seen the man look so worried.
"I need you to fetch Doctor Finch immediately. Tell him that it is an emergency, and that he should come at once."
"Yessir." Franklin scurried on his way.
Darcy brought the horse around the back of the stable. He hurriedly launched off Miranda's back and helped Miss Bennet down. He was distressed to see how little she actually assisted him in this endeavor; her face had gone completely white on the ride over, and she seemed to have very little strength left at all. When he set her down, he felt that she was not strong enough to support herself, and used it as an excuse to pull her towards him. He escorted her through the servant's door, much to the shock of onlookers, and carefully led her to one of the bedrooms, not loosening his hold on her until he'd placed her gently in the great bed. He noticed, then, that she had passed out somewhere on the trip, and was thankful to it; she was beyond whatever pain her injuries could inflict.
Mrs. Reynolds came into the room, very surprised to see what her master had done, but even more surprised at the look in his face. There was such a mixture of pain and regret and fear and love in his features that she started back, unable to disturb him in such a state. He noticed her presence, and, not taking his eyes off the woman before him, said to her in a voice that spoke of the same emotions, barely restrained:
"Mrs. Reynolds, Miss Bennet will be staying with us for a while. Doctor Finch is sent for, and when he's done seeing to her injuries, I'd like Miss Bennet bathed and changed. When she wakes up, please see to it that she has something to eat. I will remain with her until the doctor arrives."
He did not mention it, but the finality in his voice made Mrs. Reynolds understand immediately that he wished to be left alone with the young woman. As she closed the door behind her, she heard a sharp, ragged intake of breath.
Part 2
Darcy did not leave the Elizabeth's side until the doctor arrived, and then took to pacing in front of the door. Doctor Finch was an old man with bad eyesight, but with enough good sense and real application to make him an excellent doctor. He spent quite some time with Elizabeth, and with each minute, Darcy became more sure that the man would step out into the hall and tell him that Elizabeth had slipped from unconsciousness to death. When Dr. Finch did appear, the worried look on his face made the blood drain from Darcy's face, and he had to grab a table to support himself. Still, worried was better than resigned...
"Is she going to be all right, Doctor?" Darcy asked, with more compassion than politeness.
"Oh, I think that perhaps she'll be just fine. She has two cracked ribs, a sprained ankle, and what looks like a knife wound on her arm, as well as various bumps and bruises." Darcy's eyes froze on the doctor's face. "I think that she was beaten, sir, and rather badly. It could be worse," he said cautiously, praying that Darcy understood his meaning--the man had not succeeded in the main goal of his attack. "But she walked over --- miles to get here, with no food, and in no shape to be hobbling across the country. I think her trip did more damage to her than anything else. She's also terribly malnourished, and I recommend you feed her as soon as she is ready; bland food, nothing heavy, no meat for a while. I've given the servants some medicine for her." Darcy digested this in silence, color finally seeping back into his face. He thanked the doctor as civilly as he could manage, and escorted him to the door.
"I must say, Mr. Darcy, that the young lady must be a very brave, strong little girl to come so far, and under such conditions. There are not too many men, I think, who could have handled such a trek to get here; that she's a woman, and a gentlewoman, is most extraordinary." Most extraordinary indeed, thought Darcy, and if it were possible, his opinion of Elizabeth rose even higher. The doctor gave Darcy a sideways glance, and asked, "Do you know the young lady?"
"Yes, a little," Darcy responded, coloring as he thought over their entire acquaintance. "You are very right; she is a most exceptional young lady."
The doctor barked a laugh at Darcy, then, putting his hat on, walked to the carriage that had been provided for him.
"I'll come back to see her again tomorrow. In the meantime, my prognosis for you is looking rather poor indeed. I suggest a good sonnet or two, a nap, and a nice relaxing bath, to ease that heart pain of yours." At Darcy's astonished look, he was gone.
Darcy turned back to the house. Miss Bennet was being seen to; there was no more he could do on that account. He wrote a note to Antony, his most trustworthy manservant, to search out Miss Bennet's attacker. Bingley, his sisters, and Georgianna were still gone to the East Garden, and to be honest, Darcy was glad. He needed time to compose his thoughts. So much had happened in the last few hours--the woman he thought had taken away his soul forever was returned to him, and in such circumstances! He was not glad for what had occurred; Elizabeth's interest, of course, meant more than anything to him, and she was suffering cruelly. But still, she was here--there was hope! Hope, that he might have a chance to prove himself to her, to earn back a tenth of the good opinion he had so carelessly thrown away, to know that the one person he needed more than anything in the world might not find him so repellent. All that she had given him, all that he owed her, would be repaid as fully as he could. He could never discharge all his debts to her; it was not possible. But while he held any power over her happiness, he was determined to make sure that it was well-used.
Darcy found himself in his library. The book he had been reading earlier this morning lay beneath his right hand, and he traced the gold-lined cover. His thoughts turned to Elizabeth again--how much she had suffered! How much he would give to relieve even a little part of that suffering! And the man who tried to hurt her... Darcy felt such anger boiling up in him that he could hardly contain himself. He paced around the room for a good thirty minutes, before finally sitting down on the love seat, and, almost instantly, falling into a deep sleep.
Part 3
Darcy awoke to see a young servant coming into the room with tea and cake. He thanked her; then, before she could curtsey in return, asked her how Miss Bennet was doing?
"Who, the young lady, sir?" the girl asked.
"Yes, Miss Bennet," he replied impatiently.
"I think she doin' fine, sir. I could go find out."
Darcy asked for her to do so immediately, adding that she should find out as much as she could about her progress and her situation.
When the servant returned, it was only to escort Mrs. Reynolds into the room. The old woman thanked the girl, then turned to the master and closed the door quietly.
"Well?" Darcy asked with growing apprehension.
"The young lady is doing well, sir. She just woke up, and I was on my way to give her some of the medicine the doctor left for her. May I ask you though, sir, what happened? How was she found in this state?"
"A man tried to attack her, but she escaped, and ran all the way from --- to Pemberley. I found her while I was taking a ride in the West Woods."
"Most astonishing, sir! Are you at all aquatinted with the lady?"
"Yes," Darcy answered, with a change in color too subtle to be called a blush. "I knew her in Hertfordshire, and met her again in Kent. Please make sure that she has everything she could ever want. In fact," he said, standing up with resolution, "I'd like to talk to her myself, if she's able to receive me."
Mrs. Reynolds nodded, with a small amount of confusion. Her master was an exceptionally generous one; she had seen him help many people before. But he had never shown the concern that he expressed with this young lady, whose injuries were fairly minor, although her ordeal must have been great.
Darcy made his way up to Elizabeth's room, with Mrs. Reynolds trailing behind.
Darcy saw that Miss Bennet's door was partially cracked, and for a minute the impropriety of walking into a lady's bedchamber, coupled with a profound sense of shyness and awkwardness, almost made him turn around. But he knew he had to see her, to know how she was doing, and in what light she thought of him. Their last two meetings were so vastly different; Darcy wondered which one would be most on her mind at this encounter. He drew a deep breath and knocked on the door.
At a slight noise in response, he pushed the door open and entered the room. Miss Bennet was lying in bed, still pale, but with something like life in her eyes again. Her hair was free and falling around her face, and Darcy drew a breath, noticing how well it became her. She viewed his approaching with alarm, it was certain, but he thought he saw a small smile play on her lips, and took courage in that. Reaching her bed side, he looked back and forth between the chair and herself, trying to figure out whether it would be proper for him to sit. He did, perching himself on the edge of the chair, and with a voice that, he hoped, was compassionate without being vulgarly so, began with "May I ask how you are feeling, Miss Bennet?"
He immediately felt that the question was too distant to express his real concern, but Miss Bennet, true to her nature, responded to the kindness he had failed so miserably to express. "Yes, I feel much better. I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Darcy, for all you've done for me. I'm sorry to be such an inconvenience..." But Darcy immediately shushed her. For a minute, there was an awkward silence between them.
"I have not yet sent a letter to your parents, Miss Bennet; I thought that you would like to do it, so that you may choose which details to include, and which to leave out. I will have the materials sent to you as soon as you wish." Elizabeth thanked him, and again they fell into silence. Darcy, thinking that perhaps he should leave before he embarrassed himself further, was about to stand when Miss Bennet again spoke up.
"This is a very beautiful room, sir. I have never liked being confined to a bed, but with such a delightful view out that window, the experience is much less trying than it could have been."
"I'm glad to hear it," Darcy answered genuinely. "I can easily believe that your nature makes these confinements especially unpleasant. When you are well enough, I'll get the servants to seat you on the balcony, which affords a view, not only of the lake, but also of the woods and hills north of here, which are especially beautiful in the autumn." For a second, Darcy paused, wondering if he had assumed too much to believe that Miss Bennet would be there so long.
"It is an excellent view," she agreed. "I passed many trees on my way here that would have tempted me greatly, when I was a girl. I was very fond of climbing trees." She bit her lip and blushed, perhaps at the unladylike image of her as a child, but Darcy found it charming. He rushed to reassure her.
"Indeed, and I took full advantage of them when I was younger. There was one particular tree, east of the house, that I particularly enjoyed climbing. It was sturdy enough that I could get to the top, and from there, I could see all of Lambton and the surrounding countryside at once."
"Are we really so close to Lambton? I have a very dear Aunt who grew up there. She promised to show it to me someday, but we had not the chance..." Darcy picked up the conversation, and they talked pleasantly about Lambton and Derbyshire for several minutes.
He noticed her face go slightly pale, and silently berated himself for keeping her so long. "I should go. Would you like me to send for writing supplies immediately?"
"Yes, thank you," Miss Bennet smiled. He bowed with more solemnity than normal, then walked to the door. Mrs. Reynolds who was sitting near the entrance, took his leaving as a cue and ushered in a servant girl carrying a bowl of soup and some medicine. He told the old housekeeper shortly to fetch paper and pen for his guest, then retired to the library again to think over the events of the day.
Elizabeth watched him go with something like regret. She was surprised, to say the least, at his civility. She did not for a moment believe his kindness to be against his nature; the letter he had written to her after those events in Kent had, if not reformed her opinion of him completely, then at least had taught her not to underestimate him. Most true gentlemen, she thought, would be obliged to help someone in her situation, but Mr. Darcy seemed to show *more* consideration to her, even than what she could hope for. She was profoundly grateful that, not only had he not resented her enough to make their situation even more awkward, but that he went so far as to try to heal the breech between them. Elizabeth knew that she deserved no such respect. She had wronged him thoroughly, and, she admitted, had shown him enough of the worst of her personality, as to make him justly hate her. It was astonishing that *anyone* could forgive her, after seeing her so blind, but that Mr. Darcy, such a proud man, could do so....
And yet he had been more than civil to her; he had been truly considerate. He had sensed her awkwardness and tried to alleviate it. He, who had within his power to do only the minimum amount of what was required for her, had actually attempted to improve their acquaintance.
Her own feelings were quite confused. She could not hate him. She was very grateful to him. She was heartily ashamed of her behavior to him and felt a great obligation to fix what she had so unceremoniously destroyed. And she felt a great curiosity towards the gentleman who had, just a few minutes before, looked at her with so much gentleness and kindness. Here was a man who was vastly different from the one she knew in Hertfordshire, and though Lizzy could honestly say she did not love him, she felt that he attracted her very much.
She was interrupted by the sound of a woman clearing her throat. She looked up at Mrs. Reynolds, who had been standing by the foot of the bed, pouring medicine, and who was now ready to administer it. Lizzy swallowed the stuff with as much endurance as she could, but it was vile to taste. The soup that followed it, though, was very welcome, for although it was bland, there was just the slightest hint of spices in it, and Elizabeth found it very pleasant. As she ate, she watched Mrs. Reynolds adjust the curtains and tend to little chores around the room.
"I can't thank you enough, Mrs. Reynolds, for all you and your master have done for me. It is truly good of you."
"Don't think about it, miss!" the old woman replied with a smile. "It is my job and my pleasure, and the Master's too, for I have never met a more generous soul than his."
Elizabeth was a bit surprised at this, and gently encouraged the housekeeper to speak further.
"Oh!" she cried, "He is the most kind, wonderful man that ever existed! I have known him since he was four years old, and even back then, he was always the first person to help anyone in need! Since he was young enough to walk the grounds unsupervised, he was always bringing back stray dogs and cats, and it was quite a task to find something to do with them all! He cannot bear to see a creature in pain. With his servants, also, he the most tolerant master..." and she launched into a long speech of her master's many perfections.
Elizabeth took this in, first with pleasure, then with a niggling sense of pain. Although the woman's praise must be at least a little exaggerated, Lizzy began to wonder if perhaps his generosity towards herself was nothing more than that of a kind man in a situation he felt comfortable with. In a second, Elizabeth realized that she must have credited his good manners at least in part on his partiality towards her, but now the idea was becoming more and more unlikely. It was with real regret, that Elizabeth decided that the chances that he was still in love with her, were very slim. For some reason, she felt a bad headache coming on.
After Mrs. Reynolds left, Elizabeth wrote a short, vague letter to her father, and, under the influence of the medicine she had taken, fell into a very uneasy sleep.
Part 4
Darcy did not leave the privacy of his library until dinnertime, and was almost surprised, upon entering the dining room, to see Miss Bingley and her sister accost him. The former's questions were as thorough as they were aimless, but he answered them as vaguely as he could. He would have to tell his guests about the newest arrival, but it would not be pleasant to handle either Miss Bingley's disdain of the visitor, or her snide teasing of himself.
He made the communication during the course of the meal, being careful to gloss over the more unpleasant parts and downplay the anguish it had caused him. Bingley and Georgianna were dismayed, the Hursts indifferent, and Miss Bingley more than a little annoyed. Still, she talked with effusive, if insincere, sympathy about the events, and traced their origin to the lowliness of the family of the Bennets' connection.
"It just goes to show you what the consequences are of such vulgar country manners. If she were more used to proper gentlemen, she would not have been fooled by his behavior for an instant. In the hands of less genteel and informed society, these sorts of rascals can do as much damage as they wish without impediment."
The subject was a sore one for Darcy, whose suffering for Miss Bennet's sake was great, and he could not help replying "That may be, but I can venture to say that there are people at all levels of society, who can turn their breeding to poor advantage." Miss Bingley blinked, and chose not to understand what he meant.
Georgianna expressed her concern for the guest, and inquired after his brother's relationship with her. Bingley happily jumped in, and gave such an impassioned account of their time in Hertfordshire, that he led Georgianna to believe that it was Miss Elizabeth's sister Jane that Fitzwilliam had been grieving over these past few months.
"But you do not know this Miss Elizabeth as well as you know the eldest Miss Bennet?" Bingley immediately understood the impression that he'd given, and turned bright red. He shot a pensive look at his friend, and avoided his sisters' eyes altogether.
"Yes, I spent some time with her in Kent. She was visiting her friend, who is married to Lady Catherine's parson," replied Darcy, taking a large gulp of wine.
"Really!" Georgianna's thoughts began to order themselves. "And is she very agreeable?"
"Indeed!" replied Bingley heartily, diffusing what could have been a very tense situation. "As bright and joyful a spirit as ever was seen. Good-natured, intelligent, lovely, witty... although I found her sister's temperament a little more pleasing. But Darcy seemed to like her just fine."
Miss Bingley's fork hit the table hard, which was a good thing, because it distracted the dinner companions from their host, whose face turned scarlet at the statement. Miss Bingley smiled prettily and ventured an opinion or two on the Bennet sisters. "Jane Bennet is a sweet child. If she were born to a more deserving family, I should be very pleased to consider her a dear friend. But her mother and sisters are so vulgar! Even the second Miss Bennet is somewhat too impertinent and coy for my taste. She has none of the manners and breeding that set the upper classes apart. She's just a very plain girl who fancies herself to be more than she is."
Miss Bingley could not draw the attention of Mr. Darcy with all these statements, though. The latter was heartily engrossed on keeping his mouth so full of food that no rude comments could possibly come out of him. Still, Georgianna was intrigued, and resolved to talk to her brother about the new acquaintance later.
She followed him into his library that evening, ready to find out more about this Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He was searching through the shelves of books as she came in and quietly shut the door behind him.
He glanced up. "Is something wrong, Georgianna?"
"No, nothing," she assured him, with a half-hearted wave of her hand. She bit her lip, and ventured "This Miss Bennet--is she really as disagreeable as Miss Bingley thinks she is?"
Her brother almost scoffed. "Not nearly so. She has a thousand times more grace, intelligence, wit, good humor, and beauty than Miss Bingley ever can, and I think that Miss Bingley is only jealous."
"You like her, then."
"Yes, I believe I do." He looked up, searching his sister's face. "May I ask why you're asking me these questions?"
"I'm just curious," Georgianna responded diffidently. "She is to be our guest, after all, and I should very much like to make her acquaintance, if you think she would be at all willing. So, you do like her?"
"I do. She is one of the most charming, lively and beautiful women of my acquaintance. Perhaps she does have a little something like impertinence, but I find it most captivating." He stopped, wondering if he had said too much. Georgianna pretended to be caught up in one of the books lying on a nearby table.
"Are you looking for any book in particular, Brother?"
"Yes, I had... excuse me!" he called out, as one of the servants entered the room with tea. "Have you seen the book I had left just there?" he asked, motioning towards an end table.
"Yes, sir," responded the servant, nervously. "You mean "-------"? Miss Bennet requested it especially, and I thought--" his master started, then waved his hand. "I'm sorry, sir, but you said to make sure that every wish of hers was granted, and I..." he trailed off.
"No, no, you're quite right. Think no more about it." Darcy threw his hands up with a half-smile, and returned to his chair.
"Every wish!" Georgianna breathed, too low for her brother to hear. Then, louder, "I should very much like to meet this Miss Bennet. When do you think I can?"
Darcy looked at her suspiciously, but he had never known his sister to be anything less than straightforward, and answered "Tomorrow morning, if you like. I'm sure you will love her."
Part 5
Darcy couldn't sleep that night. He got out of bed, pulled on a pair of breeches and a shirt, and left his room. He convinced himself that he was most certainly not going to hover outside a certain lady's bedchamber, but he had been walking only five minutes in the opposite direction, when he dropped all pretenses and headed directly for Miss Bennet's door.
As he stood in front of the great wooden frame, he suddenly felt incredibly stupid. Was he, the great Fitzwilliam Darcy, reduced to this? Stalking the bedroom of the woman he loved, scavenging whatever comfort could be found from twenty feet away? Would his father be ashamed to see his son acting so pathetically over a lost love?
Darcy tried not to think of those things. The answers only made him cringe.
He put his hand on the door, hoping to feel some of the warmth that must be emanating from that room. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and...
The door fell away beneath his hand. A young servant, shocked to see her master standing before her, gasped and drew back. Darcy was momentarily flustered, but soon recovered enough to address the girl.
"I'm sorry sir... I was on my way to notify you... Miss Bennet's temperature has gone up. I think we need to fetch a doctor... sir."
"Of course, send for Doctor Finch at once." The girl ran two or three feet away from him, then started, and turned back. "Don't worry about Miss Bennet. I'll watch over her. Go!" Swiftly, she was gone.
Darcy stood in the door frame, not at all sure what to do. The form on the bed was motionless; Elizabeth must be asleep. But it was improper for him to watch over her so; a gentleman in a lady's room at night, not to mention a rejected suitor! He was still not sure that his presence was at all welcomed with her; to force her to rely on him in this way was sure to make her uncomfortable.
The figure on the bed stirred, and from the door frame, Darcy heard her quietly call "Sarah?" There was nothing he could do but approach.
"Miss Bennet," he said, as quietly as he could. Her face was sweaty and pale, even in the candlelight, and her eyes fluttered.
"Mr. Darcy. I fear I am not quite well, sir. I feel... very cold. It is very cold in this room, is it not, sir?" She pulled the comforter closer to her chin.
"Of course; let me help you." He leaned over her and adjusted the blankets. As he did so, her hand accidentally brushed his chest, and he went cold, then hot. He looked into her eyes, but they were feverish and restless. He sat down in the chair that Sarah had recently vacated and stared at her. All the apprehension of the day came flooding over him, and he let his head fall into his hands, cradling it like a man in pain.
In the hall, Mrs. Reynolds and Georgianna looked at each other in wonder.
Part 6
Darcy stayed in Miss Bennet's room until almost four in the morning, until the doctor informed him that her fever was lowered, and she was out of danger. He dragged himself up the two flights of stairs to his chambers, fell onto the bed fully clothed, and was asleep in an instant.
After sleeping very poorly, Darcy skipped breakfast and settled himself in one of the front parlors, just off the breakfast room. He sat by the window, holding a cup of tea in one hand, staring at nothing in particular. He was interrupted by the arrival of Bingley.
Bingley approached his host almost timidly, with more guile than Darcy was used to seeing in him.
"So," Bingley began casually enough. "Is Miss Bennet feeling any better?"
"Yes, I believe she is. Her fever is drastically reduced, and the doctor hopes that it will be gone completely, soon."
"Good." Pause.
"I suppose her family has been notified."
"I sent an express to them yesterday, Bingley."
"I'm sure her sister, Miss Jane, will come. They seem very close."
"You're probably right."
"Miss Jane I'm sure will be a great comfort to have around."
"I'm sure that's true."
"Oh."
Darcy sighed. He knew exactly what was going through his friend's head now. At one point, he would have been more concerned about the imminent meeting of Jane and Bingley, but as it was, he was only resigned. He was still not sure of Miss Bennet's affection for his friend, but he had, in the past year, learned to doubt his own judgment greatly, and was more than willing to let his friend have a chance with the woman he loved, even if that kind of love was beyond himself.
Truthfully, Bingley was miserable. He had been listless and dissatisfied for months, now, and Darcy was sure that it all traced back to his "kindness" to his dear friend. He remembered the words he had spoken, on that day in Kent: "Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself." He shuddered; he had been implying that marrying Miss Elizabeth was a punishment, painful in itself and only tolerated because it was the lesser of two evils. How just was all her hatred towards him! Again, for the thousandth time since that meeting in Kent, Darcy felt truly, terribly humbled.
It was only then that he looked around and realized that Bingley had long since left to eat breakfast, and that in his place stood a very stiff looking Mrs. Hurst.
Darcy liked Bingley, was annoyed by Caroline, and was tolerant of Hurst. But he realized, as he absently watched the woman who poured tea beside him, that he had not one opinion of Bingley's other sister. He could not say that he didn't know her, for they had spent many hours together, and had shared many conversations in company. But, searching back through his entire acquaintance with her, he could not think of one thing she had said or one idea she had expressed that was not a reflection of someone else's. She reciprocated Miss Bingley's thoughts with the intimacy of a sister, tended to her husband, and deferred to himself and her brother. But for all that, he had not one clue who the woman who now stood beside him really was.
"It is an agreeable day, is it not, Mr. Darcy?" Mrs. Hurst asked.
"Yes, very lovely."
"Caroline and I have always said that there is no better place to spend a quiet afternoon than tucked into the country. So far from the noise and bother of Town!"
Darcy pressed his lips together. "You didn't seem to feel that way when last in Hertfordshire."
Mrs. Hurst thought deeply about this odd coincidence. Darcy was beginning to realize why he could so little to understand her thoughts.
"I think I should like some breakfast. Will you join us, Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy politely declined, and returned to staring out the window.
Not five minutes later, Georgianna entered the room. She greeted him warmly, and, positioning herself in the window frame opposite him, made her inquiries about Miss Bennet. He answered as he had with Bingley, and kept staring out the window. If he had ever suspected anything of his little sister, it was that she was becoming far too inquisitive about his relationship with Miss Bennet.
"I hope that I shall be able to visit Miss Bennet this morning. Tell me, Fitzwilliam, does she play or sing?"
"She does both delightfully. What she lacks in skill, she makes up for in passion and grace."
"I should be very glad to hear her, then. I'm sure that we shall have much to discuss on the subject of composers. I confess, I rarely get to discuss music as much as I would wish. Mrs. Annesley knows nothing at all about music appreciation, and Miss Bingley is very accomplished, but she gets too wrapped up in the performance, and pays very little attention to the what the music is trying to express." She caught her brother's sly grin.
"I'm sure you two will have much to talk about. I could wish you had more role models like Miss Bennet in your life."
"It's too bad, then, that our families aren't better aquatinted. I think I will like Miss Bennet excessively." With that, Georgianna spun around, so as to avoid the glare she knew her brother would be giving her.
Darcy continued to watch the scenery outside the window. He saw a flock of birds gracefully land on the water, and, as if it were a warning from God, turned to face an equally well-plumed woman standing by the tea set, simpering.
Darcy sighed.
Miss Bingley didn't seem to notice. Instead, she took her cup to his side and, standing near enough that her expensive French perfume nearly overpowered him, gave him a teasing half-smile that Darcy recognized as a pale imitation of Miss Elizabeth Bennet's.
"I hear from my brother, Mr. Darcy, that it will not be long before we have the pleasure of a visit by the entire Bennet clan. Your generosity is too great, sir. Pemberley is one of the largest, finest houses in England, I'm sure, but will it be large enough to drown out the over exuberant screeches of Miss Bennet's mother?"
Darcy flinched. He hadn't thought of that. Of course Miss Bennet's mother would be coming. Well, he thought, if there were ever an opportunity to prove to Miss Elizabeth that I have learned patience and tolerance for other's shortcomings, this would be it.
Miss Bingley noticed the flinch, and, thinking that she had found a weak spot, began to pounce.
"Of course, she may love the house so much that she would insist on marrying you to one of her daughters! Although I know you've always been partial to Miss Elizabeth, might I suggest Miss Mary instead? She certainly has not the fine eyes of her sister, but I believe that she is much less likely to do something horribly impertinent and disgrace you to all your relations."
Miss Bingley was not stupid, and, had Darcy not had several months of agony and heartbreak to form his character, she might have unsettled him. But so devoted was Darcy to Elizabeth, that he put more faith in her good sense than in his relative's power, and nothing Miss Bingley could say could make Miss Bennet less tempting to him.
Miss Bingley continued in this manner for almost five minutes, until, sensing how hostile her host was getting, she declared herself famished and went off to enjoy his superb breakfast.
Darcy had had enough interruptions for the morning. He was more tired than he wanted to admit to himself, and he was in desperate need of time to sort out his thoughts. He knew he had to keep Miss Bennet at Pemberley for a while; he *had* to earn her good opinion. But the doctor said that she would be able to move about in a week, and she would be uncomfortable staying longer than necessary. One week... such a grim deadline...
He moved away from the window and placed himself in a large chair in the corner, leaning back with his eyes closed. He heard a rustle, and was about to warn the servants off in as ungentlemanly a voice as he could muster, when he opened his eyes and saw it was Mr. Hurst.
The man plodded over to the teapot and poured himself some tea. He then looked at his host, sprawled back in the chair, and grunted.
"You're in love, aren't you?"
Darcy, who had never heard the man offer any perception that didn't relate to food or hunting, was so shocked that he could only nod.
"Damned fool waste of time, ask me. Getcha dog, get the same amount of attention, a lot less gripin'." He nodded his head empathicly at this advice, and then plodded off to the dining room.
Darcy put his hand to his head. Perhaps he just needed sleep, but the world seemed very surreal this morning.
Part 7
At a suitable hour, Darcy brought Bingley and Georgianna up to see Miss Elizabeth. The first was delighted to see Miss Bennet again, and expressed his joy in seeing her and knowing that she and her family were well very enthusiastically. He asked many questions about her family, including who would most likely be coming to Pemberley, and Elizabeth assured him that at least her elder sister Jane would be among the party.
Darcy wished for Miss Bennet to spend some time talking to Georgianna, and so said to Bingley: "I sent the message express, and unless there are difficulties on the journey, we should be seeing from Miss Bennet's family sometime this evening. Mrs. Reynolds is preparing for their arrival now."
Bingley turned pink and excused himself hastily. Not two feet out the door, he could be heard calling for his valet.
Darcy then removed himself to the far corner of the room, to let Georgianna and Miss Bennet talk in private. They both seemed unusually bashful at first, but soon Georgianna was sitting next to Miss Bennet's bed and talking eagerly. The two talked in hushed voices for almost a quarter of an hour, while Darcy stayed all the while at the window, trying not stare at them. Miss Elizabeth's face shone with compassion and joy at his sister, and in Georgianna's, Darcy saw a great fondness blooming. He was exceedingly pleased.
He moved over to the bed to reclaim his sister. Georgianna looked slightly embarrassed; Miss Bennet looked amused. He couldn't help wondering what had been said as he looked from one woman to the other.
On the way out, he asked his sister.
"What were you and Miss Bennet talking about so secretly?"
"We were talking of music," Georgianna blushed. "I told her all about the beautiful pianoforte you bought me, and how I long to hear her play. She said that she gladly would, if she has the opportunity."
"I take it that you like her, then?"
"Oh, yes! She is the most charming lady... I would not mind at all being on more intimate terms with her."
"Well, perhaps you can keep up a correspondence when she goes back to Hertfordshire," Darcy said testily. He had no idea when his little sister had ever gotten so sly, or how she had discovered his interest in their houseguest.
Georgianna was not brave enough to continue with her hints after that remark. Instead, she asked about their guest's family. "Are they all as agreeable as she?"
"Miss Bennet's elder sister, Jane, is a very good-natured girl. The rest of her sisters, however, tend to be a bit silly, and their mother is very silly indeed. Her father I cannot speak for, but he seems intelligent enough."
"And Mr. Bingley is in love with the eldest Miss Bennet?" Georgianna asked. Her brother stopped dead in his tracks and twirled around to face his little sister. She suddenly blushed brightly and exclaimed "Oh, my! Look at the time! I promised Miss Bingley I would meet her for a walk in the rose gardens." With that, Georgianna was gone.
Part 8
The afternoon offered very little business to keep Darcy distracted, and when the Master of Pemberley was not hard at work, he was, invariably, thinking about Miss Bennet. He declined to go on a tour of Park with the others, and instead found himself pacing his study. He had sent Antony, his most trusted manservant, after Elizabeth's attacker Mr. Benjamin; the only thing that prevented Darcy himself from going was the need to remain by Elizabeth. But Antony had his full confidence; he would bring the man back, and what Darcy would do after that, he was not sure. He wasn't at all convinced that he wouldn't kill him outright. Darcy closed his eyes, and pictured the man reaching for his dear Elizabeth--his hand on her arm, his mouth inches from hers, his hot breath on her face. He imagined him hitting her, and the image almost made Darcy vomit. It was all he could do to grab the back of his chair and squeeze his eyes shut. No, he silently resolved, as long as Fitzwilliam Darcy was alive, no one would ever hurt her again.
And Elizabeth? How was she doing? She had escaped with minor injuries only, but he wondered how her lively spirit would hold up after coming so close to tragedy. She was a strong and sensible woman, but she must have been terrified...
Again, Darcy collected himself. This would not do. Soon Miss Jane would be nearby, and he had no doubt that Elizabeth would be strong enough to recover fully. He had many times underestimated the power of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and he held onto his faith in her like a lifeline.
He thought idly about when she had cried in the forest. What an incompetent fool he'd been! She must hate him for being so distant, when all she wanted was someone to help her, and all he could do was stand by like The Arrogant, Conceited Mr. Darcy, unable even to comfort her as one human being to another...
All Darcy could do was to make a resolution, each minute of every day, to try to be worthy of her good opinion.
He waited as little time as was proper before heading towards her bedroom again. The doctor had called an hour ago and declared Miss Bennet to be improved, but very weak. He prescribed good food, and, since her fever was down, as much of it was possible. As Darcy rounded the corner and came to stand in her doorway, he saw one of his servants, Mrs. Southam, standing over her patient and glowering. From the bed, Miss Bennet only looked angry.
Darcy had known Mrs. Southam since he was an infant. She was a tall woman; even now, she was a good four inches taller than Darcy. He could remember being no more than four years old, looking up at that towering face, seeing her arms folded in the same way as when she stood over Miss Bennet's bed. He had always been terrified of her, and even as an adult, when few things ever unnerved him, he made sure to avoid her in her wrath. Still, she was competent to a fault, and he had every faith in her good judgment.
"Miss Bennet! I will not tolerate, no, not *tolerate* this behavior from you! You are going to eat every last bite of your oatmeal or so help me, God..."
"I have eaten two large bowls already today; it's more than I usually eat and I don't appreciate being bullied! If I could eat more, I would, but I thank you to trust my judgment on this."
"Oh, no you don't," Mrs. Southam bawled. "I have likely twice as much life behind me as you do, and I'm not going to let some silly little country bird tell me how to do my job! Now you can eat this oatmeal or we can spend the next half hour yelling at each other, until you *do* eat it!"
Here, Mr. Darcy coughed to make his presence known.
"Master! This tiny bird of a lady won't eat, and you know very well the doctor told her eat. I'm not going to tolerate this disobedience, no sir!" She turned back to Miss Bennet. "When Master Darcy here didn't eat his dinner as a child, I stood over him for hours at a time, growling and badgering him until the food was cold and the whole house had retired. Once it was almost daybreak before he finally cleaned his plate. Yessir, it was." Darcy saw Elizabeth smile at this, and was relieved to see her eyes sparkle mischievously. No matter what humiliation he feared she was about to expose him to, at least she seemed to have recovered her spirits.
"I'm surprised that Mr. Darcy was so disobedient as a boy," came the reply that Darcy had been expecting.
"He wasn't, but he sure was stubborn. Never gave me a pinch of trouble, except when his pride was at stake." Darcy flinched, but Elizabeth looked more amused than ever. "Then he would holler like the sky was falling, and I would know the day was gonna be a long one. Like one time--"
"Thank you, Mrs. Southam," Darcy cut off. Elizabeth was enjoying this far too much, and he had enough work to do to salvage her opinion of him. He didn't need Mrs. Southam to fill her head with all the stupid things he had done in his youth. "I'd like to visit with Miss Bennet. Would you wait outside?"
"Yessir," Mrs. Southam replied. She grinned broadly at Miss Bennet, and Darcy felt absolutely certain that Miss Bennet would know all about The Lake Incident by the end of the day.
Mrs. Southam left, and Darcy turned his full attention to Elizabeth. She was much recovered, it was certain; the playfulness in her eyes seemed to increase the closer he moved towards her. Summoning up his courage and praying that he wouldn't make a fool of himself, he sat.
"May I inquire after your health, Miss Bennet? I see you are recovered enough to make trouble for my servants." Did that sound accusatory? He hoped not.
"Yes, sir, I'm feeling much better. It still hurts to breathe, but my head is clear now and I feel quite equal to arguing at great length with Mrs. Southam." She smiled at him. "But perhaps I shouldn't be so stubborn. She has been very attentive, and I have been a most disagreeable patient..."
"Pray, don't worry about Mrs. Southam," Darcy said. "She enjoys arguments, and probably respects you more because of them. You make her job easier. I think that tending to someone as obliging as Georgianna is trying for her."
"In that case, I shall have to be a great deal more argumentative. Perhaps I should not only refuse to eat anything more today, but demand some book that I know your library cannot possibly hold, then throw a fit when I do not get it."
"I beg your pardon," Darcy replied amicably. "The library at Pemberley is one of the best you'll ever find. You would have to be very resourceful to request a book we don't have."
"Do you have Fordyce's Sermons?"
Darcy winced, then, seeing her laughing look, continued, "There's always the possibility, but if we do not have it, I will have to buy a copy directly, and when you are done reading, you may have a long discussion with Mrs. Southam about it. I'm sure she has many opinions on Mr. Fordyce that she'd be willing to discuss at length with you."
This time, Miss Bennet did respond with a laugh. "I am defeated, sir! I will eat my oatmeal without complaint."
There was a pause. There were so many things that Darcy wanted to say, but he wasn't sure how to bring them up, and he loathed to break the friendly tone of their conversation. He wished desperately to apologize for his behavior in Kent, but just as he was summoning up the nerve, Miss Bennet spoke.
"I was delighted to finally meet your sister, Mr. Darcy. She was not at all as I expected her to be, but I was very impressed. She is a very gentle, unassuming creature, and very pleasing. If her talent on the pianoforte is equal to her skill in talking about it, I should dearly love to hear her play."
"I hope you will get the opportunity to hear her, before you leave. She enjoyed your company very much as well, and expressed an interest in seeing you perform."
"Perhaps that may be arranged, but I fear trespassing on your hospitality too long."
"Do not concern yourself," Darcy replied, with a hint of dread.
"No, sir, I'm afraid I must. I have been a long time from Longbourn, and the sooner I get back to it, the better."
Darcy understood that to mean that she wished to get away from him as soon as possible, and his good mood began to fade. In truth, though, Elizabeth was thinking only of her family; if Mrs. Bennet were to come here, she would stay a long time for Jane's sake, and Elizabeth was determined to keep her family from Darcy's ridicule.
After sitting a moment in silence, Darcy excused himself and left the room. As he walked out the door, he passed Mrs. Southam cracking her knuckles and smiling, a lukewarm bowl of oatmeal on the table beside her.
Lizzy watched him go, wondering why he had turned so sullen. She thought--she had hoped--that they were getting along, and, to her great surprise, had been enjoying his company very much. He had such gentle eyes... when all the hauteur and pretension was gone, they absolutely sparkled with good humor and intelligence, and Lizzy thought that, were he any other man, she could become addicted to that look. As it was, she could only admire and enjoy it; it did no good to grow too attached to Mr. Darcy.
She was startled to see that the blank space where the man had disappeared into was now filled with the large, bulky frame of Mrs. Southam. She held the same bowl of oatmeal that she had taken out of the room, and she was grinning mischievously. Elizabeth was not afraid, but she was feeling very willing to make a bargain with the immense woman.
"Mrs. Southam," she greeted warmly. "Are you still determined to have me eat?"
"Yes ma'am." came Mrs. Southam's reply.
"Well, then, let us make a deal, shall we? I shall try my best to finish this bowl of oatmeal if you promise to bring me no more until I ask for it, and," here Elizabeth's grin grew wider, "you tell me about some of my host's infamous behavior as a child."
Mrs. Southam fairly glowed from the bargain. She had been meaning to tell their houseguest about her young master's more mischievous moments; these stories from Mrs. Southam were her equivalent of Mrs. Reynolds effusive praise. She admittedly knew nothing about her Master and Miss Bennet's past together, but she saw enough of the stubbornness she admired in each of them, and decided that if the rumors of their being in love were true, she would do as much as she could to forward the match.
"Oh! Such stories I could tell. I think I'll tell the one 'bout the lake incident. Now that was something." She barked a laugh at the memory. "It all started when Masta didn't want his portrait taken for his eighth birthday. The late Masta Darcy, bless his soul," she crossed herself, "always wanted him to have a portrait painted ever two years. But little Masta wasn't gonna have none of it. While he was in his room s'posed to be dressin', he snuck out a window and climb down the trellis to run way. Miss Bennet, you not eating your oatmeal."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," responded Elizabeth, blushing. "I was too caught up in the story. Pray, continue."
"Well, there was only one place the little Masta could actually escape from everybody--in the middle of the lake! He was the best swimmer in the whole county, even at that age, and he still is. Take it from me, he got some good muscles on his arms, there, but maybe you noticed." Miss Bennet turned bright red, which was all the confirmation Mrs. Southam needed, and the elder woman nearly laughed with glee. "So he went swimmin' in the lake, and all the servants and the stable hands and just near everybody in the whole house came out to chase him out. Mrs. Darcy was near fainting, Mr. Darcy looked powerful mad, and everybody else was just hysterical. Anyone who could swim jumped in after him."
Mrs. Southam broke into hysterical laughter. "Lord, what a sight! Little Masta Will swimmin' round in circles in the lake, followed by near a dozen fully clothed men who were twice his size, and half the house maids nearly fainting on the shoreline, they were so worried. I 'bout died laughing."
"How did they catch him?" Lizzy asked, laughing along.
"They had to sneak up on him from under the water and drag him to shore, kicking and screaming." Mrs. Southam wiped the laughter tears from her eye as she wrapped up the story. "There are few things in life that actually mean somethin' when you get to be my age, but I will always treasure that memory, I will."
From the bed, Elizabeth looked exceptionally pleased with the picture of Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Southam was glad to hear it, and to show how happy she was, she immediately began berating Miss Bennet about her slow eating pace.
Part 9
Darcy's mood began to darken as he walked back towards his study. It was almost dinnertime; soon he would have to stomach Bingley's raptures, Georgianna's insinuations, and Miss Bingley's jealousies. Until then, there was his study... even more secluded than the library, this study was the one place where no one could demand a share of his attention. He sat down in his chair and played with a paperweight; this was not going as he thought it should. Surely Miss Bennet had been happy to see him! She had even laughed, and smiled kindly at him in a way she never had before. But she could certainly feign amusement when she had to. Were his actions beyond pardon? Did she still insist on carrying a grudge? No, he couldn't believe that. And yet, she had made it very clear that she did not want to stay at Pemberley any longer than was necessary. In a moment of bitterness, Darcy even regretted that he was the one to find her. Surely she would have been better pleased to not take charity from such a proud, arrogant man... and perhaps she felt that she must marry him out of gratitude...
Darcy stood up. This was selfishness. She should not feel the least indebted to him for what he had done, she should not feel any pressure to marry him. He would have to find some way of making her feel less indebted, and the only way he could think of doing that was to pay her *less* attention.
There has to be a middle ground, Darcy thought.
A carriage arrived shortly after dinner that evening, and everyone but Mr. Hurst knew exactly who it contained. The party went out to greet the guests, and were introduced to four people; Jane and Mrs. Bennet, and two relatives of Elizabeth's, a Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.
Mrs. Bennet was delighted to be in the beautiful Pemberley Estates, and was even more delighted to see Mr. Bingley. She went on and on in her expressions of regret over their last meeting, bringing him up to date on the local news from Hertfordshire, and hinting widely about all her daughters' being yet single.
Jane and the Gardiners, however, were very concerned about Elizabeth, and asked to be taken to her immediately. As they walked to the room, Darcy explained in more detail what had happened to Miss Bennet. Jane was noticeably horrified, and turned ashen at the words. The Gardiners, who seemed to be very intelligent and well-bred people, sent concerned looks back and forth. Mrs. Bennet continued to talk to Bingley.
He escorted them in the door, and stood at the back of the room while Elizabeth was surrounded by her relatives. As he turned to leave, he heard Miss Elizabeth call his name. He looked at her, and saw a rueful smile on her face. "Thank you, sir, for bringing my family to me." He bowed, looked at her thoughtfully, and left.
Chapter 9
Darcy's mood began to darken as he walked back towards his study. It was almost dinnertime; soon he would have to stomach Bingley's raptures, Georgianna's insinuations, and Miss Bingley's jealousies. Until then, there was his study... even more secluded than the library, this study was the one place where no one could demand a share of his attention. He sat down in his chair and played with a paperweight; this was not going as he thought it should. Surely Miss Bennet had been happy to see him! She had even laughed, and smiled kindly at him in a way she never had before. But she could certainly feign amusement when she had to. Were his actions beyond pardon? Did she still insist on carrying a grudge? No, he couldn't believe that. And yet, she had made it very clear that she did not want to stay at Pemberley any longer than was necessary. In a moment of bitterness, Darcy even regretted that he was the one to find her. Surely she would have been better pleased to not take charity from such a proud, arrogant man... and perhaps she felt that she must marry him out of gratitude...
Darcy stood up. This was selfishness. She should not feel the least indebted to him for what he had done, she should not feel any pressure to marry him. He would have to find some way of making her feel less indebted, and the only way he could think of doing that was to pay her *less* attention.
There has to be a middle ground, Darcy thought.
A carriage arrived shortly after dinner that evening, and everyone but Mr. Hurst knew exactly who it contained. The party went out to greet the guests, and were introduced to four people; Jane and Mrs. Bennet, and two relatives of Elizabeth's, a Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.
Mrs. Bennet was delighted to be in the beautiful Pemberley Estates, and was even more delighted to see Mr. Bingley. She went on and on in her expressions of regret over their last meeting, bringing him up to date on the local news from Hertfordshire, and hinting widely about all her daughters' being yet single.
Jane and the Gardiners, however, were very concerned about Elizabeth, and asked to be taken to her immediately. As they walked to the room, Darcy explained in more detail what had happened to Miss Bennet. Jane was noticeably horrified, and turned ashen at the words. The Gardiners, who seemed to be very intelligent and well-bred people, sent concerned looks back and forth. Mrs. Bennet continued to talk to Bingley.
He escorted them in the door, and stood at the back of the room while Elizabeth was surrounded by her relatives. As he turned to leave, he heard Miss Elizabeth call his name. He looked at her, and saw a rueful smile on her face. "Thank you, sir, for bringing my family to me." He bowed, looked at her thoughtfully, and left.
Part 10
The next two days passed peacefully. Darcy saw very little of Elizabeth, partly because of his resolution, and partly because she was never out of the company of Jane or the Gardiners. He did, however, make sure that Georgianna spent a great deal of time with her, and questioned his sister minutely about Miss Bennet's health after each visit.
One morning, as Darcy was entering the West saloon, he was startled to see Bingley and Miss Jane Bennet in earnest conversation. He stopped mid-stride, turned white, and was about to go, when Bingley greeted him so enthusiastically that even Darcy was surprised. He inspected the two people; Bingley was delighted, and Miss Bennet radiant. He noticed, now, how she looked at Bingley with such love and joy, and he realized deeply how wrong his interference had been.
Bingley gave him the news of their engagement immediately, and asked Darcy to be his best man. Darcy accepted and congratulated the couple with warmth and sincerity. The two excused themselves immediately, Bingley to write to Mr. Bennet, and Jane to notify her mother and sister. Darcy watched them go. He was genuinely happy for his friend. Their marriage would be one of respect and understanding; Jane and Bingley shared the same way of thinking, and their love had stood the test of time.
He thought of the wedding. Elizabeth would no doubt be Jane's maid of honor, and he would have to stand across from her and watch her, fate mocking him that he could come no closer to standing with her in a chapel. She would no doubt be the most lovely bridesmaid ever; he could see her standing there, in the most delicate and angelic of white dresses, with flowers in her hair, and smiling so warmly at her sister and new brother...
Darcy shook his head and decided to go for a ride.
That night, dinner was more lively than normal. Jane and Bingley beamed at each other across the dinner table, and Mrs. Bennet could talk of nothing else.
"Oh, Jane! How happy you shall be! I always knew that you must have been so pretty for a reason!"
Jane blushed, anxious to prevent her mother from saying more than she ought. "Mother, perhaps we should check on Lizzy."
"Oh, hang Lizzy! Such a worthless, headstrong girl! Why, do you know, Mr. Bingley," she addressed her future son-in-law, "that she absolutely refused to marry Mr. Collins! Yes," she nodded at his imagined shock, "Refused! The man who could easily turn us all out of the house when my husband is gone, and she had the nerve to refuse him! So that little nothing, Charlotte Lucas, got him first. I don't know why God chose to give me such a daughter, for she will likely never marry anyone, and end up an old maid. And then we will be forced into the streets by Mr. Collins, and what shall we do? But I must be a good mother to her and tolerate her, although she uses me ill indeed!"
"Mama!" Jane exclaimed. Bingley assured her that she would always be welcome at Netherfield, but everyone else at the table remained silent. The Gardiners knew better than to interrupt her. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley were appalled by the unrestrained vulgarity of their future mother-in-law; Mr. Hurst was enjoying the lamb roast, and Mr. Darcy was deeply affronted for Elizabeth's sake. Georgianna could only watch in shock.
After dinner, the Gardiners and the Bennets left to check on Elizabeth, and Miss Bingley released all her wrath on her brother for making such a degrading alliance.
"To think! That I should ever be daughter-in-law to that vulgar, stupid, shameless woman! Charles Edward Bingley, what nonsense ever, ever convinced you to ask Jane Bennet for her hand?! I would never be connected with such a disgraceful family!"
Bingley himself was fairly angry at his sister; he did not know what part she had played in keeping him away from Jane, but he knew where his loyalty and love lay. Mrs. Bennet, while perhaps not the most reserved woman in the world, was dear to Jane, and he would do anything to prevent her or her family from being disgraced. He would not tolerate such abuse from his own sister.
"Caroline, I am resolved. I love Jane, and she loves me. If you find her mother's company disagreeable, you don't have to visit us in Hertfordshire. If you are disgraced by being connected to her, you can sever all ties with my wife and I. But you shall not divide us on this. I suggest that for once in your life, you act in the best interest of your brother and his happiness."
Darcy, who had never heard Bingley say anything with such determination, was quite shocked, as was Miss Bingley. She stared at her brother in a while, then turned desperately to Mr. Darcy.
"Mr. Darcy, surely you can see that this marriage cannot take place. Miss Bennet is not equal to my brother."
"I assure you," Darcy replied, "I heartily approve of the match. Bingley loves her very much, and she returns his affections. I could wish nothing more for my friend than to see him married to a woman who loves him for himself, not for his money." He glared pointedly at Miss Bingley.
"But..." she sputtered, "But such a family! Her mother! Her sisters! Her family in Cheapside, of all places! You cannot be serious! Consider, even Miss Elizabeth's situation is one of disgrace now..."
Had she been thinking, Caroline Bingley would not have said that. But she was desperate and angry and frightened, and only spoke as she felt. She looked up to see Darcy's eyes turn black with rage, and for a minute, she considered running from the room immediately.
Darcy kept staring at Miss Bingley for a good two minutes, going over all the things he could say to convince her how utterly inferior she was to Miss Elizabeth and how shallow and nasty her abuse of her was, but finally collected his temper, and left without saying a word.
Bingley followed him a few minutes later, and, catching up with his old friend, pulled him aside.
"Darcy, I can't apologize enough for my sister's behavior. She and the Hursts will be leaving tomorrow, and I'll be going to Hertfordshire to be with Jane soon. Her behavior towards Miss Elizabeth and my dearest Jane is inexcusable and I am frankly ashamed that my sister should speak thus. Mrs. Bennet's indiscretion is surely nothing to hers." Darcy smiled sourly. "We shall not burden you any longer."
"You are never a burden to me, Bingley, and you're welcome to stay as long as you want. However, I feel that for your own comfort and theirs, it would be best if they left until they've had a chance to cool down. I would never turn them out of my home, but I do not believe it is wise for them to remain around the Bennets."
"I agree completely," Bingley said, and, taking his leave, walked off to inform his sisters. As Darcy watched him go, he felt his respect for Bingley soar. This man, who had previously let his friends determine every detail of his life had, in the past week, approached and gained the acceptance of the woman he loved, based on nothing but his own judgment. He had stood up to the harsh criticisms of his own sister, and had easily and decisively made a decision that would shape their lives forever. Perhaps, Darcy thought, unrequited love had been as instructional for Bingley as it had been for himself.