Darcy's Uneasy Betrothal

by Zoë Burton

  Just as Elizabeth finished speaking, her father entered the room. He looked around, nodded when he saw Darcy speaking to her, and walked over to sit on the chair at the end of the sofa.

  “I see the two of you are getting to know one another.” Bennet looked up to accept a cup of tea from Mary, who had taken over for Elizabeth once everyone had been served initially.

  Darcy had spoken gently to Elizabeth, so she was surprised to hear a note of harshness in his voice now. “We are. I cannot say I am happy to see you, but I do need to speak to you.”

  Elizabeth rubbed her forehead, a crease forming again between her eyes. “Papa, is there something I should know about Mr. Darcy? I feel as though there is, but I do not recall it.”

  Bennet’s mien was full of concern at Elizabeth’s words. “Jane told me of your lost memories and frequent, repetitive questions. I will call Mr. Jones in again to examine you.” He glanced at Darcy. “We will speak more of it later.”

  Darcy had noted the gesture of pain Elizabeth made. “I do not wish to increase Miss Elizabeth’s discomfort and I am uncertain this is the appropriate place for a discussion such as we should have, but I discovered something … interesting.”

  “Have you?” Bennet set his half-empty cup on the table nearby. “Would you care to share it with me?” He sat back with a half-smile on his lips.

  “It would seem, sir, there is a story circulating amongst the shopkeepers that implicates me in an ungentlemanly act.”

  Bennet’s brows rose, the smirk remaining on his face. “Indeed?”

  “Yes, indeed. Not only is there a tale being told, but the rumour is that you, yourself have confirmed it to the owner of the bull and in front of a shopkeeper. Do you deny it?”

  “I have no need to deny it. Whatever stories are being told, began before I went into Meryton the other day. In fact, they began the moment Augusta Lancaster saw you lying atop my daughter.”

  Elizabeth had listened intently to her father and the handsome stranger. At first, she did not understand what they were speaking of, but she soon realized what was probably being said about her. She gasped at the realization that the biggest gossip in Meryton was spreading tales about her and that her father was participating. “Papa! Are you saying you confirmed these stories about me?” Her hands began to shake and she hurriedly put her tea down. As she felt tears surge up, she pressed them to her mouth.

  Darcy could see from her reaction that Elizabeth was unhappy with her father’s behaviour, and was heartened. Perhaps she is not easily led after all.

  “I said nothing of the sort.” Bennet looked uncomfortable. “However, as I told both you and Mr. Darcy, you have been publicly compromised and must marry.”

  “M- marry?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened in horror. “You cannot be serious. I do not know him.”

  “Yes, you said that before, and I distinctly recall informing you that you would marry him, regardless.” Bennet’s jaw clenched.

  “But, but … I do not love him. Would you condemn me to a life with a stranger? How do I know he will not beat me, or, or, or ignore me as you do Mama?” The tears Elizabeth had been holding back would no longer be stemmed and she sobbed into her hands. Her head began to spear her with sharp, stabbing pains at her temples. She moved her hands to press the sides of her head and moaned through her sobs, leaning forward as though to curl into a ball.

  Without thought, Darcy moved closer to Elizabeth. He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and slid it into her fist, clenched against her head. He brought an arm around her to pull her into his chest. There, he whispered soothing words while his mind cursed her father for upsetting her.

  Mary and Jane noticed Elizabeth’s tears and immediately made their excuses to their guests. They hurried to her side, one squatting in front of her and the other sitting on the arm of the sofa.

  When her sisters had taken over comforting Elizabeth, Darcy moved away. He looked at Mr. Bennet again, his jaw hard. “I hardly think it was necessary to upset her in such a way.”

  Bennet shifted in his seat but shrugged. “It needed to be done. She must understand her position now.”

  Darcy’s eyes narrowed to slits. The urge to throttle the man was overwhelming, and it was only years of training that kept him in his seat. He felt Mary and Jane help Elizabeth up but never turned. Instead, he gritted his teeth.

  Chapter 7

  The gentlemen’s quiet confrontation was interrupted by Mrs. Bennet. “Girls, where are you going? I have invited Mr. Bingley to dine with us.” She turned to Bingley. “You will stay, will you not?”

  Bingley’s mouth opened and closed, and he darted a glance in Darcy’s direction before replying. “I would not wish to impose upon you.”

  “Nonsense. You cannot be an imposition when I have invited you.” Mrs. Bennet beamed at her guest.

  “Mama, Lizzy is ill. She needs to lie down. Mary and I will return in a few minutes.” Jane’s eyes implored her mother to understand.

  “Oh, very well, though that leaves poor Mr. Darcy alone with only Mr. Bennet.”

  Jane glanced at her sister’s closed eyes and pale face. “If Lizzy should happen to feel better, I am certain she will come back down. Dinner will not be served for a while yet.”

  Mrs. Bennet waved her away. “Go on then. Come back down as soon as you are able, Miss Lizzy.” She turned her attention back to Bingley once the younger girls joined the elder in escorting their sister upstairs, looking at him expectantly.

  “As my sisters and brother are dining out, I would be happy to join you. I am certain Darcy is, as well.”

  Darcy cleared his throat. “I am. Thank you, Mrs. Bennet.”

  The room was filled with Mrs. Bennet’s chatter until Jane and her sisters returned. Then, an animated conversation reignited between Bingley and the ladies. Darcy and Bennet remained in their seats, silently ignoring each other.

  ~~~***~~~

  Elizabeth was unable to return to the drawing room that evening. In fact, it was another two days before she felt well enough to get out of bed. Her sisters continued to attend her.

  The day after Darcy and Bingley visited, Mr. Bennet sent for the apothecary. Mr. Jones had been to Longbourn daily since the accident, and took copious notes on Elizabeth’s progress.

  “How are you feeling today, Miss Elizabeth?” Mr. Jones smiled at his patient.

  “I am tired of being in bed, but I become lightheaded when I stand for very long.” Elizabeth frowned. “My head still aches most of the time, and I have forgotten things, like how to pour tea.”

  Jones nodded thoughtfully and picked up his journal, making notes about his patient’s complaints. He said nothing, but when he had finished writing, he set aside his pencil and book and gestured for Elizabeth to sit up. He looked at the back of her head, using an instrument to wiggle her stitches to prevent skin from growing over them. When he finished with that, he looked into her eyes and made her lie down so he could press his ear to her chest and listen to her heart. He made more notes in his journal, then sat on the chair beside the bed.

  “As I told your father the day of your accident, we know very little about injuries to the head. Some patients have symptoms similar to yours: headaches, memory loss, confusion, feeling the room spin, and so on. Some patients have no symptoms at all, and some die immediately upon being injured.

  “Thankfully, though you are experiencing some uncomfortable things, you are physically well. There is no sign of infection in the sutures. They moved easily, which tells me your sisters have been following my instructions.” Jones’ eyes twinkled.

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “They have been making Mrs. Hill do it. She is far easier than any of them about causing pain.”

  Jones chuckled. “She is older and a mother. She has grown unaffected by the cries of children, I should imagine.”

  “So it seems.” Elizabeth dropped her chin to her chest but then looked up again, asking the apothecary to continue.

  “I do not know w
hat to say about the memory loss and confusion.” Jones shrugged. “It could last a few days longer, or it could linger for months. There is no way to know. I would suggest using memory aids to assist you in recalling important details.”

  Elizabeth tipped her head and drew her brows together. “Such as?”

  Jones waved his hand in the air. “Lists, for one. Drawings, calendars, those sorts of things.”

  “I see.” Elizabeth’s expression cleared. “I would keep these memory aids with me at all times, so I could refer to them if I were confused.”

  Jones nodded vigorously. “That is it exactly. One of my other patients did the same two years ago when he suffered a similar injury, and told me it helped immensely. Eventually, he regained his lost memories and relearned the skills he had forgotten, so I do not believe you would need the aids the rest of your life.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I will take that advice. Thank you.”

  “You are welcome.” Jones responded to Elizabeth’s smile with a grin of his own. “Do you have any further questions for me?”

  “You do not know how long I will have to remain confined to my room?”

  Jones chuckled. “If you feel well enough, you may venture downstairs at any time, as long as someone goes with you. However, you are not to ride or walk about alone until you are completely free of dizziness. It would not do for you to injure yourself a second time.” He stood and gathered his notebook, pencil, and bag. “Keep getting those stitches wiggled; they must remain in place for at least six weeks. I know the movement is uncomfortable, but you are going to enjoy it even less should the skin grow over them and I have to cut them out with a knife.” Giving his patient a stern look, the apothecary bowed. “It is good to see you improving, Miss Elizabeth. I will come back in a week, unless I am called before.”

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth’s soft reply was paired with a smile. She watched Mr. Jones leave, then rose and made her way to the table near the window. She picked up her lap desk, carrying it to the bed. She set it down, climbed under the covers, and then pulled the wooden box up onto her lap. Settling her back against the headboard, she pulled out a piece of paper, a quill, and her bottle of ink. Just then, Jane popped back into the room, having followed the apothecary out.

  “Are you making lists already?” Jane winked at her sister as she lowered herself into the chair.

  “I will be soon. I wish to be prepared.”

  Jane glanced at her sister, her attention drawn from the stitching in her hand. “Was Mr. Jones able to ease your mind?”

  “He was.” Elizabeth turned in the bed to face her sister, sliding her lap desk off her legs and tucking her knees up and her feet under her. “He said he has had other patients who have had similar problems and that they eventually got better. I am mortified when I cannot remember something, but I can bear it to know it is not permanent.”

  Jane smiled, her serene countenance a balm to Elizabeth’s spirit. “I am happy to hear it. Would you like to begin with lists of what has already confused you, or would you rather wait to make one until you encounter something else?”

  “Oh, the former, if you will assist me.” Elizabeth straightened her legs out once more and placed the desk and utensils atop them. She and Jane spent the next half-hour making memory aids, until Mrs. Hill entered with a tray of tea things for them.

  ~~~***~~~

  The next day, Darcy returned to Longbourn, in Bingley’s company. Elizabeth was abovestairs, and Darcy was eager to see her. Jane was in the drawing room with the company, but he could see that Mary must have stayed above with her sister.

  “Welcome, Mr. Darcy.” Jane curtseyed to him as she greeted him. “My sister is feeling better, but not well enough to navigate the stairs. She is still becoming dizzy when she stands for very long.”

  Darcy bowed to Jane. “Thank you.” He hesitated, glancing around. “Is she well enough to entertain visitors? I would not wish to enter her bedchamber, of course, but perhaps a nearby sitting room?” He turned red as possible implications of his request struck him. “I simply wish, given our circumstances, to get to know her a little.”

  Jane’s lips lifted in a small smile. She touched his arm. “Of course. I will ask her if she would like to speak to you. I am certain Papa would wish to be alerted.” She glanced over her shoulder to ascertain her mother’s whereabouts. Then, she turned back to Darcy and spoke in a whisper. “My mother is banned from my sister’s bedchamber at least until Lizzy is able to come downstairs.”

  Darcy’s eyes grew wide at Jane’s words, and he glanced over her shoulder to Mrs. Bennet. He nodded, whispering his reply as his eyes returned to Jane. “That is probably wise.” He clamped his lips shut.

  Jane patted Darcy’s arm once more. “Please, do be seated. I will return shortly.”

  Darcy nodded again, taking two steps to a chair near where Bingley sat and flipping his tails up to sit.

  “Mama,” Jane said when her mother’s conversation paused. “I must go ask something of Papa. I will return in a few minutes.” She smiled at Bingley when her eyes darted in his direction.

  Immediately, Mrs. Bennet began to fuss. “Mr. Bingley is here, and Mr. Darcy! Surely your errand can wait!”

  Jane’s serene but firm tone of voice appeared to soothe her mother. “I promise it will only take a few minutes. I will return before Mr. Bingley misses me.” With another smile, Jane silently glided toward the door.

  The conversation behind Jane resumed, and she could hear Bingley assuring her mother that he was not offended. Though she dearly wished to roll her eyes, she could not show such disrespect to a parent, and so refrained.

  Jane opened the door, startled to find her father reaching for the latch on the other side. She delivered Darcy’s request.

  Bennet looked past Jane into the drawing room and nodded. “They do need to have a conversation, so I will allow it. I will chaperone so you can visit with your Mr. Bingley.” He returned his eyes to his eldest daughter and chuckled at her blush. With a tip of his head toward the stairs, he urged her to speak to Lizzy. “Go on up and tell your sisters to prepare for Mr. Darcy’s visit. I will bring him up immediately.”

  ~~~***~~~

  A few short minutes later, Elizabeth was ensconced in a chair in the sitting room she shared with her sisters. Mary and Jane had helped her change from her nightgown into a simple morning dress, and then covered her in the chair with a blanket, tucking it in around her legs, which rested on an upholstered stool. Jane returned to the drawing room and Mary settled in on the couch next to Elizabeth, a book in her hand.

  Darcy and Bennet entered the sitting room no more than five minutes later.

  “Go downstairs and visit, Mary. I will sit with your sister and Mr. Darcy.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mary stood, curtseyed, and hastened into the hall, shutting the door behind her.

  Darcy bowed to Elizabeth. “You are looking well today.”

  “Thank you. Forgive me for not standing.” Elizabeth gestured toward the couch Mary had just vacated. “Would you like to sit down?”

  As Darcy sat, he inquired further about Elizabeth’s health. “Miss Bennet tells me the room still spins when you stand for long.”

  Elizabeth huffed. “It does, though each day it has gotten better. Mr. Jones was pleased yesterday with my progress.”

  Darcy suppressed a grin that tried to rise at Elizabeth’s peevish tone. “You do not enjoy being a lady of leisure?”

  “No, I do not.” Elizabeth sighed. “Mr. Jones suggested memory aids to help me, so Jane and I wrote out a list of everything that happened to me and all the things I have forgotten or keep forgetting.” She tilted her head as she watched Darcy’s expression. “The list aided me in remembering that we should probably have a conversation.”

  Chapter 8

  Darcy nodded. “Yes, it seems so.” He glanced at Bennet, who sat a few feet away, watching them. “I would rather not do so with an audience, however.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes fo
llowed Darcy’s to her father. “Papa, would you give us some time to speak? It need not be in a separate room, but we would like to discuss some matters without anyone near enough to listen.”

  Bennet frowned but nodded. “Of course.” He rose, bowed to his daughter and Darcy, and moved several feet away, to sit near the door but positioned so he could see Elizabeth clearly.

  Darcy followed Bennet’s movements with his eyes but spoke to Elizabeth. “We have found ourselves in an unfortunate situation.” He tilted his head as he looked back at her. “I think you would agree with that statement?”

  “I do. I am so sorry. I do not know you and so hold nothing against you, and I am grateful for your gallant act, but it would not be my choice to be tied to a stranger for life.” Elizabeth twisted her hands together in her lap, her head down.

  The couple was interrupted briefly when Mrs. Hill brought in a pot of tea on a tray. She accepted the thanks forwarded with a smile and a curtsey and then was gone. Elizabeth did not touch the tray immediately, instead turning her head toward Darcy when he spoke.

  “I am sorry, as well. I did not think of the possible consequences before I acted, but I have considered and reconsidered every action I took, and can come up with no other method I could have used to save you from the danger you were in.” Darcy watched Elizabeth tilt her head while he spoke.

  “I told your father I would not be forced into a marriage, which probably gave him a poor impression of me. I had decided that if you were the sort to meekly go along with whatever your parents suggested, I would leave the area and never return. It was made clear to me by your reaction to him earlier in the week that you are an independent-minded woman. I admire that.”

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth was uncertain what to make of Darcy’s speech. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a packet of folded papers, skimmed until she found a particular section, then read it. She folded the packet up and returned it to her pocket. Then, she poured out three cups of the tea and stirred in some honey and a dash of cream into one. She offered Darcy and her father the other two cups, which both accepted, adding their own sugar and cream.