by Erin Butler
The three miles between Longbourn and Netherfield passed by pleasantly. Elizabeth found some yarrow on the way and added it to her already overflowing bag of medicines. Her arms ached at the end of the journey and she was afraid she had stained her petticoat beyond repair as her mother was often warning her of. Mud had begun to line the edges from the rains yesterday. Elizabeth slugged through the soggy mess before reaching the edge of the Netherfield grounds.
She noticed first Mr. Darcy walking in the park at the side of the house. She waved at him and he froze mid-step.
“Hello there,” Elizabeth said as she got nearer. She curtsied, then stood and wasted no time with pleasantries. “I have come to inquire after my sister.”
Darcy, slack jawed, asked, “On foot?”
“As you see,” Elizabeth said. She looked down at her petticoat and cringed. She really was a sight. The yarrow root she found was surrounded by mud or she would not have been half so dirty as she was now. What a fright she must have looked. “Will you be so kind as to take me to Jane? I have brought some of my medicines from home and would like to see her.”
“The doctor has seen her already,” Mr. Darcy said.
“And he is a very knowledgeable man, but I know Jane would wish to see me as well.”
Mr. Darcy finally bowed and walked with her toward the house. Elizabeth reached her hands to her hair, hoping at least that it was not as out of place as it felt. Perhaps she felt worse than she looked. She breathed in deep to calm her nerves and to catch her breath. “And how has the sage treated you, Sir? Are you feeling quite recovered?”
Mr. Darcy turned a smile toward her. “I believe I am better. You will notice that I was out for a walk this morning. This is my first attempt at it since coming to Netherfield for I had not felt up to it until today.”
“Pray do not outdo yourself, Sir. You should take it easy for the sage may make you feel more recovered than you are. I would not wish you to hurt yourself again because you tried too much too early.”
They walked further in silence. Mr. Darcy stared straight ahead at the house while Elizabeth used the opportunity to check his stride. He did seem to be move well for someone who could barely add his body weight to his leg at the Meryton assembly.
Mr. Darcy chuckled next to her. “I see you are checking on your patient, Miss Bennet. Perhaps you did not trust me to tell you the truth. I cannot blame you, I suppose.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks grew hot. First, she comes to a house unannounced and can barely pass as a lady with her dirty skirts, and now she is caught gawking. “May I ask after my sister? Is she not well at all?”
Mr. Darcy’s face turned serious. His lips thinned. “I am afraid I have not seen her, but the accounts from Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley are unfavorable. A fever, a cough, among other ailments. I do not know what she was thinking coming on horseback as she did.”
Elizabeth gnashed her teeth together. He was right, of course. If only her mother could see what damage she was doing all in an attempt to secure a husband. Could she not see that actions could be taken in a different light by those who were of superior mind?
“I am sorry, Miss Bennet. I should not have spoken as such.”
“No, Sir. You are correct.” She squared her shoulders as best she could. “I am afraid that the carriage could not be spared for Jane yesterday. My mother believed she would be able to beat the rain, but in any case, that did not happen. Unfortunate event as made only clearer by the light of what has happened.”
Darcy made no other comment. They were soon at the house and he showed Miss Bennet inside. Miss Bingley, who must have spied them from the window, came walking into the hall. Her eyes immediately drawn to the floor—and unlike Mr. Darcy—she did not hold her tongue. “Your skirts! Inches of mud, my dear.” Her look conveyed all the horror she felt even if her words did not express as much. Mrs. Hurst also entered the hall and made much the same show, which garnered the interest of Mr. Bingley. With more manners than both of his sisters together, Mr. Bingley welcomed Elizabeth with a warm openness she did not think could have been bestowed upon a more willing recipient at the present moment.
“Thank you, Mr. Bingley. I wish to see my sister if it is not too much trouble.”
“But of course, you can see your sister. I shall take you there myself.” He held out his hand to her and Elizabeth took it. He guided her up the steps and to the room Jane had stayed in. “I shall leave you two alone.”
Elizabeth knocked on the door and let herself in. Jane’s face lit when she first saw her sister, but then she withdrew into a coughing fit that was a fair bit worse than Lizzy had hoped for. She immediately went to work making her sister a drink that would relieve the cough right away.
“Oh, dear Lizzy,” her sister said. “I longed for you to come, but I did not have them write it in the letter. Maybe I should have, but you are here now. Thank you. I find I am quite ill. The doctor has seen me and he gave me a little drink to take, but as it is only a cold, he said I should be recovered in a week’s time.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She would not have her sister ride this cold out. She intended to treat it to lessen the symptoms. Once Jane consumed the drink, she did not last long in wakefulness. She fell asleep and Elizabeth stayed by her side, monitoring.
Chapter Seven
With Jane resting comfortably, Elizabeth was called down to dinner. She was pleased to hear her clothes were already sent for earlier that afternoon as Mr. Bingley would have it no other way than to have Miss Elizabeth stay with them as well. Grateful that she could change out of her dirty petticoats, she descended the steps to the first floor. She happened upon Mr. Darcy who offered her his arm and they walked into the dining room together.
From the moment they entered, Miss Bingley looked out of spirits. Her and her sister exchanged glances as Mr. Darcy pulled Elizabeth’s chair out for her. He took a seat across the table from her and Elizabeth enjoyed their joint conversation throughout dinner.
As a studier of people’s characters, Elizabeth found the whole evening enlightening. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst did little more than gossip throughout the entire meal. Mr. Bingley spoke to Mr. Hurst who could barely talk for eating so much and also broke into the conversation Mr. Darcy and herself shared to inquire after her sister.
Mr. Darcy, he was another enigma all together. His character had very much changed since first observing him during the ball in Meryton. He was friendly and courteous, listened intently as she answered Mr. Bingley’s inquiries about her dear Jane, and then asked her about the medicines she was prescribing to her patient. He did all this in such an easy manner that Elizabeth was sure that the whole town hated him for nothing. His manners were not proud at all, only the reflection of a sore limb. That was why sick people were confined to the house. No one would find them charming when ill.
“I hope to have the pleasure of hearing you play tonight, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth almost choked on her potatoes. She never received compliments on her piano playing. She made a show of looking around the room and then turning to him wide-eyed. “Do you mean me, Sir?”
He smiled and laughed. “The only other Miss Bennet is upstairs in her room, and I have not had the pleasure of hearing her play as I have you. Your song at Lucas Lodge was delightful.”
Her face warmed despite herself, and for a moment, she worried that she had caught the fever from Jane.
“You look as if you are surprised to hear me say so. Has not anyone else praised your playing?”
“I do not believe they have, no. You are the first, Mr. Darcy, and now I shall be too intimidated to play in front of you again. How can one play with shaking fingers?”
“You do not give yourself enough credit. If you have the gumption to treat ill patients, you can certainly sit in front of a room and play a song as you did before.”
Elizabeth wanted to say she was amongst friends then, but decided she would rather not say such a thing. Already she noticed Miss Bingley and
Mrs. Hurst talking behind their hands. Though she despised them, she did not want to ruin Jane’s chances with their brother.
She squared her shoulders. “If you wish to hear me play, I suppose I shall not object. You must promise to applaud even if I slip and play the wrong key. I do not know if I could keep my countenance if you asked me to play and then did not applaud at the end.”
“You may count on me, Miss Bennet. I will never give you a reason not to play. I am used to hearing the piano being played almost all the time. My sister, Georgiana, dearly loves the instrument.”
“Oh, Georgiana,” Miss Bingley exclaimed. “How I long to see her. Next time you write, please do tell her I wish to see her as soon as possible and send my regards.”
Mr. Darcy’s jaw hardened. “Of course, Miss Bingley.”
“And you are quite right about her playing, Mr. Darcy. I do not think I have heard many who could outplay her. And she plays with such passion. One cannot play the piano without passion. If they do, there is something found wanting in the song.” Miss Bingley smiled tightly in Elizabeth’s direction before raising her eyebrows at her sister.
Mr. Darcy seemed to observe this. “Georgiana does dearly love to play. Her passion is evident and I believe one day that her talents shall match it.”
Elizabeth drank from her water glass to hide her smile. It was as if she were sitting at the dinner table with her father. They were always making remarks to make the other laugh that others did not understand.
“Did you make the piano forte purchase for her, Darcy? I find I cannot remember if you said you closed the deal or not,” Bingley asked.
“Not yet. When I go to Pemberley later in the year, I shall close with the shop and have it delivered as a surprise.”
“How delightful,” Miss Bingley exclaimed. “The gift could not be bestowed upon a better receiver. Miss Darcy is beautiful and accomplished. Would not you say so, brother?”
Mr. Bingley exclaimed that she was quite right. “A very agreeable girl. Much like your sister, Miss Bennet. Their hair is remarkably similar.”
Miss Bingley, who was about to drink from her glass, squeezed it in her hands and set the drink down in front of her. Her face held the unmistakable air of displeasure. Elizabeth could not help to look between the two. She believed she had just sorted something out when Miss Bingley told Mr. Darcy that she would love to have his sister visit them at Netherfield. “Is it possible? I wish to see her, as I believe the rest of us do.” She gave such a pointed look to her brother, who, for himself, looked oblivious.
Mrs. Hurst smiled. “I long to see her too, Mr. Darcy. I do not think I shall be happy here until Miss Darcy has graced us with her presence.”
The tightness in Mr. Darcy’s jaw became more apparent. “I am sorry to pain anyone in the room, but my sister is too busy at the moment to acquiesce to your requests. Another time would be better.”
They all agreed that of course that should be so. They did not wish to interrupt her studies, and another five minutes all together was spent on praising the young woman who Elizabeth was quite curious about now. She was sure she was a genteel sort of girl since she was Mr. Darcy’s sister, but she could not help but think Mr. Darcy did not agree with all the praise. Perhaps brothers were the worst critics of their sisters. Since Elizabeth had no brothers to speak of, she was unsure, but Mr. Darcy tried with no avail to change the subject from his sister until they all retired to the drawing room.
Mr. Darcy stood and since Elizabeth happened to be looking in his direction, she noticed the pained look that crossed his face. Whilst everyone else was walking from the room, she walked nearer to him and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I saw that, Mr. Darcy. I retrieved some yarrow root for you on my way here this morning. Should I make up a treatment so that you can put it on your leg overnight?”
“You retrieved it for me?” he asked, grasping the edge of the table.
“Well, I found that particular jar empty and since I do not grow it in my garden, I had to get it somewhere. I knew where some was, so I walked to Netherfield in order to get it. I have found that it helps tremendously with pains in the joints. I shall go to my room right now and make it up for you. Please tell the others that I shall be down directly.”
“You do not have to do that, Miss Bennet.”
“It is no bother. You should not have walked too much this morning. You must promise me that you will try to stay off your feet for a few days. I beg you to go sit in the drawing room and then I will return.”
Mr. Darcy’s brows furrowed. He looked displeased with himself and then sighed. “Might I ask for secrecy, Miss Bennet? None of the party here know I have hurt myself and I would like to keep it that way. Do I ask too much for that?”
“Oh, I had not thought that they knew nothing of it. Maybe it will be better to retire to the drawing room, and then I shall retire early to make it for you. Does that suit you?”
“Very much so, Miss Bennet. I thank you.”
Chapter Eight
As Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy entered the drawing room, she tried to hide his discomfort as much as possible. He rallied his stature so well that Elizabeth doubted anyone would notice his ailment if they were not looking too closely. Miss Bingley, however, was speaking to him from the time he came in the room.
Sensing that his leg was truly bothering him, Elizabeth wondered how he might keep his composure with someone like Miss Bingley. Though it was clear he respected her, Elizabeth could not help but wonder if he also found her vexing at times as she often did.
“I was just saying to my brother, Mr. Darcy, that I long for a trip to London. The society is quite different in these country towns as you well know. Is not that so, Charles? I am sure we would be happy to go to London. Perhaps when Miss Bennet is fully recovered.”
“I like London very much, but I am in no hurry to quit Netherfield. I find it very charming here.” He smiled toward Miss Bennet and came over to her. “What a splendid time I had at the assembly rooms in Meryton. And then again at Lucas Lodge. You have remarkable neighbors here, Miss Bennet, your family included. I should like to stay here.”
Elizabeth glowed. She could almost sense his admiration for her sister in his words.
“I find it confined from what we are used to, Brother. Indeed, I do not know how you can talk so. Mr. Darcy and myself were speaking only this afternoon how we wished for pleasant conversation with some of our old acquaintances.”
“Why is that?” Mr. Bingley asked. “I am happy with having pleasant conversations with new acquaintances.”
Miss Bingley glanced at her sister. A look was exchanged that Elizabeth caught and was immediately vexed by. It was plain they felt they were way above their present company. It was a wonder they let their brother let a house in the country at all.
If Miss Bingley had her way, Elizabeth was sure she would have them all out of the house in the morning and on their way to London and away from Jane, and perhaps to Miss Darcy. If Jane heard of this, it would hurt her. She knew she counted Mr. Bingley’s sisters as friends already, no matter what Elizabeth tried to lead her to believe. “My sister would be grieved by the news should it happen,” Elizabeth started. “It is too bad she lay ill in bed upstairs for I know she would rather be here with you all.”
“Elizabeth is quite right, Caroline. We should not speak of going until Miss Bennet is better. And even then, we may not speak of it at all. You and Darcy are free to go whenever you would like if this part of the country does not suit you.”
Miss Bingley narrowed her eyes at her brother. Elizabeth watched the exchange with much curiosity. It would seem Miss Bingley was not used to her brother holding his ground with her. Mr. Bingley was much like her sister then—almost too agreeable. They both had the kindest of hearts she had ever known.
“You are silent, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley ventured. “What do you have to say on the subject?”
“We have barely been here a few weeks. I have also heard your brother
speak of giving a ball. If I know him well enough, and I do, I believe he will not leave until at least that event has passed.
“So right, Darcy,” Mr. Bingley exclaimed. “I should love to give a ball here. How many in the neighborhood should attend, Miss Bennet?” Elizabeth answered and Mr. Bingley was full of passionate thoughts again. “I daresay there is enough room here for a ball. We will all have a merry time. When your sister is better, we shall plan the whole thing out, but I do not dare sit down here and talk of such pleasantries when she is up there suffering.” He tilted his head toward the ceiling and frowned. “Such an unfortunate affair all the way around.”
Not even the scowl framing his sister’s face could alter Elizabeth’s good spirits with such positive confirmation of his feelings for her sister. “I believe she is a little better this evening, Mr. Bingley. I assure you she will be well in a few days’ time. Her fever is almost broken and then she shall be on the mend.”
“How remarkable you are, Miss Bennet, to treat your sister so endearingly.”
“She deserves it, Sir. She is an ideal older sister.”
“Miss Bennet is quite learned in medicines, Bingley. She has treated her sister with her own plants and remedies.”
Mr. Bingley’s mouth dropped. “You don’t say? That is amazing. That kind of knowledge would be a great comfort. To not even have to call a doctor to aid your loved ones? Good for you, Miss Bennet. Though I should not be as astonished as I am. I have found the company in Hertfordshire to be remarkable all the way around.”
Mr. Darcy asked her for particulars on the remedies she used with Jane, which Elizabeth was more than happy to supply him with. They spoke at length on the subject. The others in the room, who had grown tired of the conversation, began to play at cards. Through the remarks of the game, Mr. Darcy could ask about his own injury with little secrecy needed. “What will you make for me this evening, Miss Bennet? The sage worked well, but you think yarrow will work better?”
