Courtship and Confusion

by Laura Maybrick

  Chapter 11

  At one point Darcy had offered his coat to the lady beside him, but she had declined, replying with a small laugh that seeing that their garments were already wet through after only a few moments there was little point in doing so. That unfortunately was a very accurate assessment. And it was not only that, but the paths became increasingly muddy and consequently harder to walk. When Elizabeth stumbled beside him due to her skirts sticking to her legs, they had to slow down lest she would fall and in the end it took them a good twenty minutes until they finally reached Rosings and when they did so both of them were thoroughly soaked and shivering.

  It was his natural luck that at just this moment Lady Catherine crossed the entrance hall apparently after having scolded Cook for one thing or another and with a frown on her face that once had been fairly handsome she inquired: “Pray, why are the two of you so wet? And what is Miss Bennet doing here anyway?”

  “Well, we got caught in the rain, as you can see, Aunt Catherine and I met Miss Bennet by chance as she was taking a walk.”

  “Why would you go out walking in this kind of weather, Darcy? Or anyone for that matter? You should be more sensible than that, Nephew.”

  Beside him Elizabeth clearly shivered and here he was discussing something so utterly pointless as having gotten caught in the rain by sheer surprise when before the weather had been perfectly fine, if perhaps a little cloudy.

  “Perhaps I should have been, but then again, when I left there was no indication that it would rain at all. Now please, if you would let me make arrangements that Miss Bennet is taken care of before she is going to catch cold...”

  “Yes, yes, that would not do,” his aunt, for once agreed, looking disapprovingly at Elizabeth in all her pitiable state. “Well, I will call for one of the maids and I suppose we will find something to dress her in for the time being.”

  Elizabeth Bennet managed a shaky curtsy and even a faint smile. It took but two minutes for a maid to appear and lead her away up the stairs and into one of the guest rooms. Darcy would have liked to follow suit disappearing into his own room, but his aunt held him back.

  “You must be aware how very indecent your behaviour must appear, Darcy. I did not want to say anything in front of Miss Bennet, but I know the likes of her, she would do anything to make a good match, so be warned.”

  Her advice, as well meant as it might be, rubbed him the wrong way nonetheless.

  “Only a fool will think anything indecent, Aunt. What do you suggest I should have done? Let her carry on on her own?”

  As always when lost for an answer, her Ladyship changed the subject: “What were you doing out walking anyway? I thought you had business to attend to.”

  “I had and after that was in need for a bit of fresh air,” Darcy lied.

  He never liked telling a falsehood, but in this instance it could hardly be avoided. And besides, it technically was the truth. His business had been meeting with Miss Bennet to discuss the issue of her sister and his friend meeting again, so actually no lie at all just a little adjustment to the time line, so to say.

  “You should have stayed in the shrubbery,” his aunt huffed. “That way you would have been spared by the rain. You should really go and get changed, Nephew. As it is, you are dripping all over the place.”

  Again, she had an uncanny knack of stating the obvious. But at any rate, Darcy took her advice, bowed shortly and then hurried up the stairs and into his own room. Once there he immediately rang for his valet before almost literally tearing off his wet clothes and rubbing himself down with a towel. If he had goosebumps all over, he did not want to know how Elisabeth was faring. She had appeared to be frozen through but then again, the rain had been hellishly cold. If only he could take her into his arms and warm her up a little...

  No, not a good thought at all. Or rather too good a thought. He would love nothing more than to rub her down with a towel and have her do so with him before slipping under the covers of his bed with her and holding her until she was comfortably warm once again.

  By the time his valet finally arrived, thankfully anticipating him by carrying a jug of nice hot water Darcy had put on his dressing gown and was pacing up and down with some impatience, though why he was so, he did not quite know. It was just that he worried. Not about himself but rather about whether Miss Bennet was properly taken care of. It was a ridiculous notion seeing that his aunt's servants were all very well trained and naturally complying, but again, what if she had caught a cold like her sister once had when invited to dinner at Netherfield by her two ' friends'.

  “Would you like a bath, Sir?” his valet inquired.

  A bath sounded very good, but as it was, Darcy preferred to go downstairs again as quickly as he could and hence declined. Continuing with his pacing it was his cousin Anne who found him in the morning room.

  “Is everything alright, Fitzwilliam?”

  “Yes, it is just...”

  Well, what was it? Darcy was not entirely sure.

  “You worry about Miss Bennet's well-being. I understand. By the way, I took the liberty of ordering a hot bath for her and picked out one of my warmest gowns for her to wear. It was lucky that I saw you arrive and saw the state the two of you were in. I assume you did not pay much attention to the weather, Cousin. You decidedly looked as if you had jumped into the lake with your clothes on, if I may say so,” Anne stated so calmly Darcy almost wondered if she had said something at all.

  But with Mrs Jenkinson standing in the doorway, she seemed to have good reason to keep her voice low.

  And indeed.

  “And, have you resolved your little problem and can finally start to court her properly?”

  “Yes, we have sorted everything out, but as to the latter, I cannot possibly say. I... - I fear there is yet another thing I do not quite know how to go about it. And with me having to go to London, there is little chance of seeing her again any time soon.”

  “While that may very well be, if her sister marries your friend, your paths will have to cross on occasion, so you better think of a strategy.”

  It was difficult to suppress a grin at her wry and determined face. And she certainly had a point. If Bingley married Jane Bennet after all, he would see Elisabeth once in a while and yet...

  Suddenly Darcy doubted that while they seemed to have formed some kind of friendship at last over the last few days and under the most surprising circumstances, that he would ever win her heart. Why was it that she did not seem to realise that while he wanted to see his friend happy, the main reason for his recent actions was to see her smile. Why was it that she seemed so oblivious of his open admiration for her wit and beauty? What else was he to do? When she sat down at the piano he came over just to listen to her without the constant chatter of his aunt and also to look at her smiling at her concentrated face and marvel at her passionate way of playing. He always tried his best to converse with her during dinner or any other formal invitation his Lady Catherine had issued for the Collinses. And after first finding out that she still was in the habit of taking long walks, he had explicitly looked out for her and tried to join her as often as his aunt's business would allow. What else was he to do?

  In town, had he paid any woman as much attention as he did to her, that lady would have started to plan the nuptials and possibly even order her wedding clothes, but not Miss Elisabeth. While she appeared more relaxed in his company of late, something was definitely on her mind that made her not see the obvious, but what was it?

  “A penny for your thoughts, Fitzwilliam,” his cousin interrupted his musing.

  “I doubt they are worth that much,” Darcy laughed back but did not answer her question.

  He felt silly enough as it was just for wondering so much about the issue anyway. He would just have to try even harder to make Elisabeth see the obvious.

  “You really should sit down in front of the fireplace, Miss de Bourgh,” Mrs Jenkinson at long last interrupted their conversation, looking bot
h worried and annoyed.

  The latter presumably down to her having been cut out from her charge's little chat. Something she was definitely not used to. With a sigh that once again showed all her just frustration Anne gave one last smile towards her cousin and then left.

  What he could do, however, instead of worrying over something he could do little bout at present was write a note for the apothecary to see to Mrs Turner and send his own footman as soon as the rain had somewhat subsided. It would not do for yet another person to get drenched.

  Chapter 12

  Again Elizabeth had been surprised by Miss de Bourgh's attention and quick-wittedness. That she, of all people would think of ordering a bath for her was quite frankly rather astonishing. But not only that, she had also taken care that a nice warm gown was provided for her and even though it was more of the practical kind it was still a lovely dress made from deep blue flannel with a little delicate floral embroidery at the hem and sleeves. An unusual combination that worked surprisingly well.

  As cold as she felt the wait for the hot water to be brought up had appeared sheer endless, but a glance at the clock on the mantelpiece above the roaring fireplace told Elisabeth that not a quarter of an hour had passed. In fact it had arrived surprisingly quickly, and as it was, the bath was exactly what she had needed to at least get half-way warm again and still her fingers and toes felt numb and all in all Elizabeth felt so exhausted that at long last she was in danger of falling asleep in the tub. With the help of Miss de Bourgh's personal maid, she got dressed, and surprisingly enough the dress fit her quite well, despite the bodice being too tight. The young lady always looked so frail and tiny that Elizabeth would not have been at all surprised if the dress had been several inches too short but as it was the length was just perfect and the tightness that led to her chest being pushed up quite indecently was nothing a shawl could not sufficiently cover.

  Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth walked back down the stairs in search for the lady of the house and more particularly for that lady's daughter, to thank them for all their kindness. It was neither of the ladies she came across, however, but Colonel Fitzwilliam, who seemed fairly surprised at the sight of her and a little exasperated, though obviously not due to her presence, but rather because of the ledger in front of him on the table over which he had been bent in the drawing room instead of the study.

  “Miss Bennet! What a surprise to see you here. And a very amiable one at that. Do come in and sit down. You do look pale. Is something the matter? You have not gotten caught in this horrible rain, have you? Come, sit by the fire. It is the very reason I have come here because the study is quite draughty and cold and it will take a while yet for the fire there to heat it up. And sitting over the books always makes one shiver anyway, does it not?”

  “According to my father, yes it does. I cannot possibly judge from my own experience. And yes, I did get caught in the rain,” Elizabeth replied as cheerfully as she could considering that while she had been nice and warm in the hot water of her bath, she was shivering once again and quite violently.

  Why she had avoided telling the Colonel that not only she had gotten caught in the rain Elizabeth was not entirely sure of, but it did feel kind of wrong to do so. What if the poor man took it the wrong way and became jealous of his cousin? No, that would not do.

  Gallantly Colonel Fitzwilliam drew out a chair for her to sit on and placed it as near to the fireplace as he possibly could without the danger of Elizabeth's gown catching fire by a stray spark and then pulled a chair up for him likewise to sit by her side. Again, no sign of him being shy or awkward, not even the slightest hint of it. He was easy and courteous as always without any particular sign of any emotion other than his honest regard for her. Surely Miss de Bourgh must have it all wrong. There could be no other explanation to it. Perhaps, the young lady had a secret passion for romance novels like so many other females her age. Kitty and Lydia in particular.

  “So what news do you have?” the Colonel inquired after pouring both of them a glass of brandy, hers appropriately small and his a little larger.

  “News?”

  “Well, if one can call it that, I suppose, but what I meant is, how are your dear relatives faring?”

  “Last time I saw them very well, thank you. I was out with Mrs Collins this morning to tend to the poor of the parish, which is always a heavy burden. Not in the sense that it is any trouble, but to see those poor people suffer normally weighs heavy on me,” Elizabeth replied thoughtfully.

  “It is so very natural that you should feel this way, Miss Bennet. Yet there is little we can do to ease their suffering. Not beyond what is already been done. Charity can only go so far, in my opinion, as harsh as it might sound.”

  It indeed did sound harsh and Elizabeth was tempted to disagree, yet everything she wanted to reply sounded oddly naive even in her own mind, yet she was certain that more could be done if only one had a mind to it. Perhaps not by the Collinses who already seemed to do what they could, something she had never really taken into account before. But indeed, her cousin did his rounds quite frequently as did his wife and whenever a member of his congregation had not been in church, he would inquire about that person and should they turn out to be ill, he would go and pay a visit. Elizabeth did not know whether that had been his habit even before he was married, but with all his silliness he seemed to be well respected, thinking about it. Lady Catherine might be his foremost priority, but he never forgot about the rest of his flock.

  “I see your frown, Miss Bennet,” the Colonel interrupted her thoughts with a smile. “And while you naturally must disagree, it is in the very nature of a woman, let me tell you that being too charitable is of no benefit for anybody. It sometimes has quite the opposite effect and in the end will lead to nothing but trouble. If a person thinks they can rely on one's charity they will get careless with their funds quite quickly.”

  “You are perfectly correct in assuming that I very much disagree with you. While there might indeed be people misusing one's good will, there are more than enough who would be greatly appreciative and try and do their best to repay any kindness by doing everything in their power to get independent again.”

  “You sound much like my cousin. Seriously, I sometimes wonder at Darcy for still being so charitable when his charity had ended in so much trouble on more than one occasion. You know there was one man in particular he helped out a lot and who misused his trust most abominably and still, whenever someone needs help, he steps in regardless.”

  So that was where the colonel's opinion stemmed from. From none other than George Wickham. And there she had once trusted that man's goodness without as much as questioning him. Everything he had said she had taken at face value and oh, how she had misjudged him. There was little doubt about that now. Elizabeth's head started spinning slightly and the brandy she had been sipping made her both fairly dizzy and drowsy. She had never been prone to fainting and she would not start now.

  “I cannot help but think that to be an amiable trait, Colonel,” she replied tiredly.

  “Perhaps it is. And I have to admit it he has helped me out on occasion as well. As the younger son my means are quite limited. My cousin cares a great deal for the ones close to him and beyond. Only a few months back he has helped out a friend who had the great misfortune to fall in love with a woman who did not love him back and as it is, but do not tell him I said so, my cousin is a true romantic. One would not think so when one sees him, but the very reason he is not married at the ripe old age of eight and twenty is because it has taken him forever to find the one woman to capture his heart,” Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled broadly, his eyes firmly fixed on her as if he wanted to see her reaction.

  It surely was one of surprise and confusion. Did that mean that now he had? By the sound of it, it did. Interesting. And indeed, she would never have thought Mr Darcy the romantic type. Not with him always appearing so sombre and severe. A week ago, Elizabeth would have assumed the happy woman to be Mis
s Bingley, but in the light of the recent events, that could be very decidedly doubted. It surely must be some remarkable woman to engage such a decent, kind and upright man, not such a conniving lady such as her. Yet another thing she most certainly would not have thought about Mr Darcy only days ago.