by Robin Helm
“I could wrap my head with a blanket, like a turban, during the journey home? That way if I fall, I will not harm my head.”
Mr. Jones laughed.
Elizabeth thought she might scream, so she kept her teeth clamped together.
He repacked his equipment and turned back to the bed. “You are coming along nicely, Miss Elizabeth, but all the same restrictions apply. I will come again on the morrow. Do you have a message for your family? I will stop in at Longbourn next.”
“Actually, I had a note from Mama while you slept, Lizzy,” Jane said. “If Mr. Jones allows, they will stop by this afternoon.”
Mr. Jones’s eyebrows rose. “The entire family?”
Jane shrugged. “I would imagine it will be our parents. My father would have to attend since mother has yet to be introduced to Mr. Bingley.”
Elizabeth cringed. Lydia and Kitty would put up quite a fight in order to avoid being left out of the visit, and their mother would try her best to indulge them. Would her father stand up to them? Most times, he gave in to escape dealing with their antics.
She loved her sisters, truly she did, but her head started to ache again just thinking about having to listen to their arguments. In fact, if Mr. Darcy were not at Netherfield, she would have to agree with Mr. Jones’s opinion that she was better off here for another day or two.
“Also, Mr. Jones,” said Jane, “is there a limit to the number of times Lizzy may walk down the corridor? Mr. Bingley was wondering whether his staff could set up a table in the music room so that we might dine with the gentlemen this evening. He suggested we dine early so that Lizzy can get her sleep.”
Goodness! Here she was trying to hurry her withdraw from Netherfield in order to limit her exposure to Mr. Darcy, and meanwhile Jane was accepting invitations to dine with him.
A hint of amusement twinkled in Mr. Jones’s eyes. He knew exactly what was going on here, or at least with Jane. Thank heavens he was not prone to gossip.
“It is fine as long as Miss Elizabeth is feeling up to it and is properly assisted.”
If the room had been pitch dark, Jane’s smile would have chased away every shadow, proving once and for all just how much she liked Mr. Bingley.
Elizabeth sighed. It was such a simple request, she could not deny her sweet sister. She would just have to become better at guarding her heart from the charms of Mr. Darcy.
~%~
It was good that Sarah and Jane had helped her dress as soon as Mr. Jones had left them, because about an hour later, Elizabeth and Jane were informed that their parents awaited them in the music room.
The footman who had brought them down the hallway handed her arm off to her father, bowed, and left the room.
Her mother made as if to speak, but when her father cleared his throat, she clamped her mouth closed again. She squinted at Elizabeth, turned, and rushed across the room, and sat quickly on a sofa.
Elizabeth glanced at Jane, who seemed just as confused as she was.
Her father winked at Elizabeth and escorted her to a chair across from her mother.
Once all were settled, her father said, “Mr. Jones said your health is improving, Lizzy.”
“Yes, I am feeling much better,” Elizabeth answered.
“Oh!” her mother exclaimed quite loudly, bringing a hand to her bosom. “You can speak!”
Elizabeth raised both her eyebrows. “Yes, Mama. Wh—”
“The way Mr. Jones has been carrying on and on about your brain being out of sorts, and forbidding your sisters and I to visit—your sisters are still not allowed—I expected the worst.”
“Yes, yes,” her father waved a hand in the air and said to Elizabeth, “Your mother has been making good use of her salts.” He turned to his wife. “My dear, Mr. Jones and I have explained many times that Lizzy is only in need of quiet and rest.”
She huffed. “But you all were hiding her from me. Why would you do such a thing if there was not something terribly wrong? Even Jane refused to allow me to see her!”
Jane paled. “Mama, I am sorry you felt I was hiding something. When you came the other day, I did explain that Lizzy was sleeping.”
Her mother harrumphed. “You could have just been telling me that. Protecting me from the truth.”
Elizabeth smiled. “The truth is I am much the same as I ever was, with the small exception of a sore arm and head. I am improving every day and hope to be home soon.”
“Oh! No, you must stay long enough for Mr. Darcy to fall in love with Jane, of course,” her mother cried.
Jane’s mouth gaped open in a very unladylike fashion.
She wagged her finger at Elizabeth. “You were very clever to become injured so close to Netherfield. Your father was thinking quite clearly when telling Jane she must remain with you.”
Her father’s amusement was obvious. “My dear, Bingley is the gentleman who resides at Netherfield. Why would you choose Darcy for Jane?”
Her mother smiled. “Because, Mr. Bennet, I have it on good authority that Mr. Darcy has at least ten thousand a year.” She turned up her nose. “Mr. Bingley has only five. Therefore, Jane will do all she can to make Mr. Darcy fall in love with her. Oh, Jane! Just think of what Mr. Darcy’s home should look like if Netherfield is what one can afford with half the income!” She gasped. “And now that I know Elizabeth is her normal self, she must do her best to put your best foot forward with Mr. Bingley, as well.” She clapped her hands together and held them to her lips. “With luck, I will have two daughters married before the winter.”
Elizabeth brought her hand up to her pounding temple and rubbed at it.
Her father stood. “Mrs. Bennet, it is time for us to leave. Lizzy is feeling poorly.”
“But Mr. Bennet—”
He lowered his chin and raised both eyebrows, staring her down. “You promised.”
She frowned. “Well… all right.”
Her father crossed the room and called out into the corridor for the footman, then returned to Elizabeth and helped her rise. “Heal well, my Lizzy. Enjoy the peace and quiet.” He kissed her on the forehead before handing her off to the footman.
They made their goodbyes and parted at the staircase. Elizabeth and Jane continued on to Elizabeth’s rooms.
Once Elizabeth was undressed and in bed and Sarah removed to the dressing room, a bleary-eyed Elizabeth said, “Well, that was interesting.”
Jane, who had a knack for finding a good side to everything, patted Elizabeth’s hand. “If nothing else, it proved there is no gossip contending you were compromised when you were rescued.”
“What do you mean, Jane?”
“If there was talk of it, Mama would have insisted you marry Mr. Darcy instead of me.”
She had a point.
~%~
Elizabeth knew Jane must be bored after sitting with her all day, a good portion of which she had spent sleeping. Because of that, Elizabeth had tried her best to indulge her sister, but enough was enough. She could not help herself—she began to fidget in her seat.
Jane made a “tsk tsk” sound, then lifted another of the ornate hairpins their mother had placed in their trunk and handed it to Sarah, who used it to pin up a tight braid of Elizabeth’s hair.
Elizabeth stretched her neck.
“Please try, Elizabeth.” Jane sighed. “Sarah is almost done.”
Elizabeth smiled. Jane must be very annoyed to call her Elizabeth instead of Lizzy. The only time Jane came close to being rude was when any of her sisters’ hair was being arranged, none of whom could sit still for long enough to do the job correctly—according to Jane anyway.
Elizabeth would have been satisfied with her hair in a simple bun, as she had been wearing it since arriving at Netherfield. However, Jane insisted that this evening they dress up as if they were going to dine out. Elizabeth had not argued, though perhaps she should have, for she was not trying to impress anyone, she reminded herself.
Sarah’s nimble fingers quickly plaited another str
and as Elizabeth examined Jane’s hair in the mirror. Their mother’s maid usually arranged Jane’s hair on a daily basis, and it was always lovely, but Sarah had done an exquisitely intricate job this evening. It was too bad the Bennets could not afford to hire her as an additional maid for every day, but they did have her in whenever there was a special event.
Sarah pinned up the last of Elizabeth’s braids. Thank goodness!
Jane inspected her head from every angle and declared it perfect. Elizabeth stood and took a stroll around the room to dismiss some of her pent-up energy, ending at the full-length mirror where Jane was already standing. To dress up her sling a little, Sarah had used a brooch to pin a scarf over it, tucking the end inside it.
“Am I presentable enough for supper, do you think?”
“You look very pretty, Lizzy, as always.”
“And you are more beautiful than ever.” She leaned in to whisper, “Poor Mr. Bingley will not have a chance.”
Jane shushed her and blushed.
Elizabeth planted a kiss on Jane’s cheek, then turned to the girl she had known since they were children. “Thank you, Sarah. I do not know why you have never gone to London. You would make the perfect lady’s maid.”
Sarah smiled brightly. “Thank you kindly, Miss Lizzy, but I wouldn’t want to leave my family.”
“Should you ever change your mind, you may rely on recommendations from all the Bennet ladies.”
Jane heartily agreed.
The clock chimed the hour. Sarah went out into the corridor to find a footman to steady Elizabeth on their journey to the music room, but returned immediately to announce the gentlemen were awaiting them.
Jane glowed. Elizabeth filled her lungs and released the breath slowly, bracing herself. They moved into the corridor.
Every time she saw Mr. Darcy, he was even more handsome than she remembered, which seemed impossible, but it was true.
Their gazes met, a flash of light in his eyes fanned the ember within her soul that had begun to burn the first time she had looked upon him. She swallowed hard as she curtsied slightly. A deeper one might cause her to fall over and make an utter fool of herself.
He bowed and moved to her side, extending his arm.
Jane and Mr. Bingley began to progress down the corridor.
Elizabeth wrapped her arm around Mr. Darcy’s. By now she should be used to the tingle that always resulted from his touch, but again it surprised her.
She glanced up at him. Did he not feel it, too?
No, he could not, for his visage did not alter in the least. In fact, he seemed quite unaffected by her presence. His features were like a sculpted stone mask, devoid of any emotion what so ever.
Her step faltered.
His head snapped toward her as he pulled his arm closer to his body. His hand moved over hers, and he held it to his forearm with a firm grip. The mask was gone now. In its place was only deep concern.
“Is the walk to the music room too much for you, Miss Elizabeth?”
“It is fine, sir. I am not my usual self, but I am improving.”
Relief spread through her as she noticed the warm radiance had returned to his eyes once again.
“I am glad,” he said.
There was only so much of that look she could handle. She averted her gaze to look ahead and nodded her head at Jane and Mr. Bingley. “Besides, I refuse to keep my sister prisoner in my rooms for another evening.”
CHAPTER 7
By his calculations, his carefully crafted façade had lasted all of twenty seconds before she had him fumbling all over himself to keep her safe, and then laughing soon after.
Good heavens, he was still holding her hand. It took a great deal of mental effort to let it go. He glanced back at the maid who was accompanying them, wondering if she had seen it.
Was some unconscious part of his mind trying to have the gossips in the neighbourhood claim he compromised Miss Elizabeth?
He had sent his valet to the tavern in the village to listen for talk of him and Miss Elizabeth. He had heard some mentions of her accident, but so far, nothing claiming any untoward behaviour had been detected. Then again, though he knew most servants talked between themselves, they did not all have their afternoon off on the same day; therefore, it could surface at any time.
He must be more careful.
Bingley was not helping matters, asking the ladies to dine with them. After being informed that they had already accepted, Darcy had insisted they needed another female in the room. The maid would remain present throughout supper.
Now, he only had to get through this evening, ignore his overwhelming attraction to the lady on his arm, and behave himself.
Footmen opened the doors and he and Bingley led the ladies in. The staff had outdone themselves, bringing up the breakfast table, china, tableware, and rearranging the furniture. Were it not for the fact that the table was square instead of rectangular and there was a pianoforte in the room, one could easily mistake it for a dining room.
As he held the chair for Miss Elizabeth, he could not understand how so simple a gesture, which he had done hundreds of times for others, felt so special this evening.
He would allow the conversation to flow around him and would not speak to Miss Elizabeth. There was a real danger here, on his side at least, but he could not imagine a woman in her position not hoping for a proposal from him.
Bingley gestured to the footmen to begin serving, then turned to speak to Miss Bennet in low tones. Darcy concentrated on his food.
Half-way through the fish course, out of the corner of his eye, he realized Miss Elizabeth was not eating.
Had she taken ill? Had she tired and wished to return to her rooms?
He glanced at her. She looked in good health, but she sat staring at her plate, one hand in her lap, the other in the sling.
Idiot! Of course, she was not eating. She could not cut her food.
He looked at her sister, who was so busy listening to Bingley rattle on about his search for a townhouse in London that neither of them had tasted one bite of fish.
Darcy cleared his throat, but Miss Bennet and Bingley ignored him. He looked at Miss Elizabeth once again, then back down to his half-eaten food.
Should he offer to cut the fish for her? It seemed such an intimate act.
He looked again at the others, but it seemed they had forgotten all about Miss Elizabeth and himself being in the room.
Now Miss Elizabeth was looking at him, amusement dancing in her eyes.
Heaven help him, she was so lovely.
“It does smell wonderful,” she said with a smile. She inclined her head and leaned towards him just a little to say softly, “Do you think I would be ostracized from police society if I asked Sarah to cut it for me?” She glanced to her left, where the maid was sitting at attention.
That would be an acceptable alternative to his cutting it for her, though he felt a pang of disappointment run through him.
Stick firmly to your resolve, man. You cannot have her! he thought, then said aloud, “I believe you are safe among present company.”
She gestured the maid over. He had expected Miss Bennet to fuss over the fact that she had forgotten her sister, but strangely enough, she and Bingley did not even seem to notice.
Darcy waited until Sarah had finished. When Miss Elizabeth began to eat, he resumed.
Now that they had exchanged a few words, the silence between them loomed over him.
“My parents visited early in the afternoon, whilst Mr. Bingley and you were out,” she said between bites.
How was he to respond to that? “I hope they are in health.”
“Yes, very much so. My mother was disappointed that she could not be introduced to you both.”
“We were inspecting the work being done at one of the tenant farms.”
They both finished their fish. The next course was served, and Sarah cut her meat immediately. Bingley and Miss Bennet were now speaking of their favorite gardens, museums
, and theatres in London.
“Mr. Darcy, I feel as if there is a weight hanging over us, and since I am in the position to alleviate this discomfort, I fear I must defy convention and speak the unspeakable.”
Her countenance was very serious. Darcy raised both eyebrows.
“My mother… oh, how shall I say it? I am afraid there is no delicate way to pass on this information.”
He was intrigued. “Please continue, Miss Elizabeth.”
She hesitated, seemed to come to a conclusion, then spoke with determination, “My mother is usually quite well informed about the local talk. Whenever possible, she will pass along to her daughters any information she has learned. Since she was here today and did not mention anything about… well, you may remember I was worried…”
She sighed and shook her head.
He was happy to see an absence of a frown following that movement. Her condition was indeed improving.
She continued more quickly, “As far as I know, there is nothing being said about us being seen… about my being carried… or riding on the same horse as you. In fact, I do not think my mother even knows how I was transported to Netherfield. So you see, sir, you need not worry that my father will be…” She gestured awkwardly, as if clearing a path between them so the words would spill forward. “He will not… that is to say… there will be no demand for anything from you.”
“Ah,” he breathed.
She was correct; there was no delicate way of saying that.
It was also good to know that she would not be demanding anything of him. She was as he thought, very much a lady with no airs.
“I thought you should know, Mr. Darcy… in case it was making you uncomfortable in my presence. You have been very quiet this evening.”
He let out a deep breath. “In return, I will admit that my valet has been going to the village tavern daily, in order to listen for any talk relating to that incident. He, too, has not heard anything about it.”
She seemed relieved. “Good. And I thank you.”
“For?” He took a sip of his wine.
“For being thoughtful enough to send him to do a bit of reconnaissance… and for telling me about it. That is not a future I would wish upon anyone.”
