by Robin Helm
Before she could get to her chamber, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.
“What troubles you, child?”
She turned to face the owner of that beloved voice. “Mrs. Bailey. Come with me to my room.”
Once they were in the bedchamber with the door shut, Elizabeth walked into the embrace of the woman who always comforted her.
The tall woman hugged her close, resting her chin on Elizabeth’s head, patting the young lady’s back as she sobbed. “Shh, now. Tell me why you cry, and I will give you the cookies I baked for you to make you feel better. You have failed to come to me this last fortnight at least for your favorite sweets.”
She moved to hold Elizabeth at arm’s length, hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders, peering into her face.
“You must tell me, my little Lizzy.”
“I – am – not – little,” she sobbed. “I – am – huge!”
“What? Who has put that ugly thought into your pretty head?”
Elizabeth took a few deep breaths to calm herself. “I have heard people talking, and just now, Mama said Daisy could not carry both Jane and me.”
Mrs. Bailey shook her head, clucking her tongue. “Mrs. Bennet is right, sweet girl. Daisy is old. She can hardly bear the burden of one of you girls, much less two. Your mother did not slight you. She loves you dearly. Now who are these ‘people,’ and what did they say?”
“Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley both referred to my bulk.”
“The new folks at Netherfield? I heard their servants refer to them as overweening. Why would you care what such people think?”
“You are right,” answered Elizabeth. “I should not care, but I do.”
“Is this why you have stopped eating? Why you do not come for your cookies anymore?”
Elizabeth dropped her eyes to the floor and nodded.
“I have seen you walking with your sister. I suppose we have Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley to thank for that, as well.” Mrs. Bailey tut-tutted. “I cannot believe you have set your world on end because of two haughty visitors to the neighbourhood. You are stronger than this.”
“’Tis not only that. My gowns are too tight, and I can see for myself that my waist has thickened.” She backed up and lifted her sad face to Mrs. Bailey. “I sit through most of the Assemblies now. The gentlemen dance with everyone else before they ask me. I refuse to be relegated to the wall flowers at twenty.”
Mrs. Bailey raised a brow. “But would you want a man who disregarded you before you lost weight? One who did not value you for yourself but for how you look? I was once a beauty, you know. We all change. We all get older. Will such a shallow man turn away when you are no longer young and beautiful?”
“Again, you make perfect sense, but the man I marry will age with me. Beauty is not all a sensible gentleman requires, you know.” She stood up straighter. “I am valuable in other ways.”
The housekeeper smiled. “Indeed, you are. Now, are you still decided on your course?”
“I am.”
“Then I shall help you. After your mother gives me the menus for the day, I will make certain to include plenty of fruits and vegetables, as well as leaner meats and chicken. I have a lovely recipe for roast chicken with egg sauce, though I shall serve yours without the sauce. I must suggest it to Mrs. Bennet.”
“Excellent. Now, what about the cookies? I cannot resist them much longer.”
Mrs. Bailey’s blue eyes twinkled. “I’ll not make your favourites again until you tell me to do so.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Wonderful! I fear I am not strong when your cookies are involved.”
Mrs. Bailey patted her arm. “Neither am I. Perhaps we shall do this together. Misery loves company, or so I heard.”
“Mayhap ’tis why Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley are such great friends.”
They laughed together as they quit the room, each intent on succeeding in their joint endeavour, making plans as they walked.
First appearance deceives many.
Ovid
Darcy, Bingley, and Mr. Hurst left Netherfield on horseback an hour before they were to dine with the officers of the militia quartered in Meryton. Darcy had suggested they leave early, for he hoped to stop by the book shop prior to meeting the other members of their party. Bingley’s library was sadly lacking, and he had requested Darcy’s help in alleviating the problem.
After riding in silence for some time, reflecting on his good fortune in escaping Caroline Bingley for the day, the gentleman from Derbyshire looked up at the sky with a frown. “Did you observe the lightning in the distance? We must hurry. That sky promises more than light rain, and I have no desire to be caught out in a storm.” He leaned forward to pat his horse’s neck. “Xanthos heartily dislikes loud noises, and he becomes a bit skittish at the sound of thunder close by.”
“Should we turn back?” asked Bingley, glancing at the golden stallion with trepidation. “’Tis beginning to look more and more like a thunderstorm approaches. I have rarely experienced such darkness at this time of day.”
Darcy shook his head. “We are now much closer to Meryton than we are to Netherfield. I say we continue on our way at a faster pace. Perhaps the storm will pass over while we eat.”
“If not, I can send for the carriage.”
Darcy nodded and Hurst grunted in agreement.
The men urged their horses to gallop just as the first raindrops began to fall, splattering on their hats and coats.
Within a quarter hour, their horses had been stabled, and the gentlemen themselves were sitting at a table in the inn, waiting for the officers to arrive. The innkeeper’s wife had taken their greatcoats, draping them over chairs in front of the fire to speed their drying.
Darcy passed the time watching the rain pound against the windows and splash in the street. A horse walked into his view, and he noticed a lady leaned over the animal’s neck, her face turned away, her arms dangling loosely on either side. She seemed to be unconscious, unable to keep her seat. Concerned for her safety, he dashed through the door and ran to catch her.
The young woman slid from the horse just as the gentleman reached for her, but he was able to secure her against his chest. He staggered backwards, thinking he would at least cushion her if he was unable to keep his balance, but their fall was halted by strong hands supporting his shoulders.
Bingley shouted from behind him. “Give her to me! We must get her inside quickly.”
Darcy turned with her still in his arms. “Take her, then.” Her safety was his primary goal, and though he saw no advantage to her in honouring his friend’s command, he was not so foolish as to argue in the street.
As soon as she was secure in Bingley’s grasp and headed for the inn, Darcy grabbed the reins of her horse and led the mare to the stables.
By the time he returned to the inn, Darcy was drenched through, feeling chilled to his bones, his dark curls plastered to his head.
Bingley met him at the door. “I sent for my carriage and hired the inn’s coach. We shall return to Netherfield as soon possible.” He was clearly agitated.
Darcy crossed the room to stand before the wide fireplace, removing his jacket and throwing it over the chair with his greatcoat. Bingley joined him.
“Is it not a good plan?”
“Yes. I think we must return immediately. However, there are but three of us. Why have you engaged a second conveyance?”
“For Miss Bennet, of course. She cannot ride with three men. The innkeeper’s wife has agreed to send her daughter with us; she shall return with the coach.”
Darcy raised his brows. “Miss Bennet? The lady is Miss Bennet? I did not see her face. Why not send her to home to Longbourn?”
The set of Bingley’s mouth betrayed his stubbornness on the matter. “’Tis closer to Netherfield than it is to Longbourn. Besides, she was on her way to Netherfield when she was caught in the storm.”
“Why was she going to Netherfield?” And how do you know that?
Bingley’s voice took on a tinge
of anger. “My sisters told me this morning they had invited her to dine today because we were already engaged to meet the officers. The two of them admitted they wished to further a friendship with Miss Bennett but not create an opportunity for me to see her. I think they may have thought to gain more information concerning her family connections in order to discourage my attentions to her. In any case, they sent the invitation this morning, knowing full-well that rain threatened. I feel responsible for her situation.”
How devious. “You may feel that way, but she has come to no harm. She is merely wet; she shall be dry soon enough. Miss Bennet is extremely healthy. She looks delicate, but she is no fragile flower. The lady walks in the morning and evening.”
Bingley narrowed his eyes. “She walks in the morning and evening? I have no knowledge of her habits regarding exercise, so I fail to see how you learned such a thing.”
Darcy bit his lower lip, realizing he had betrayed himself. “I ride every morning and evening, and I have seen her walking with her sister.”
“Odd that she has never mentioned seeing you. Odder still that you never mentioned seeing her nor invited me to accompany you.” Bingley tilted his head. “I talk with her every time we are in company together, yet she has not spoken of you at all.”
“I doubt she ever saw me, though Miss Elizabeth may have,” he said, shifting his eyes to the fire.
“How very strange that you never told me,” replied Bingley softly. “I know you have no regard for Miss Elizabeth, so I must wonder if you are attracted to Miss Bennet.” He paused. “I carried her up to her room, you know. She never left my arms until I laid her on the bed, cold and shivering.”
“I fail to see your point.”
Bingley smiled. “You compromised her by catching her as she fell from her horse, but your actions might be construed as heroic. I took her from you on purpose, bringing her into a roomful of people and carrying her up to a private room with only the innkeeper’s wife as a nod to decorum. It appears that I have compromised her as well, but I was more thorough than you, and I have witnesses. You shall not take her from me, no matter that you are wealthier and better situated.”
“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Darcy kept a firm rein on his temper, trying to remember that Bingley was one of his closest friends. “I have hardly spoken to the lady, and I had no idea who she was when I rescued her. There was no dark plan to claim her as mine. I could not marry her even if I wished to do so. You know that.”
“You defended her against Caroline and Louise. You said that she was lovely and kind. I distinctly remember your remarking to me that she was the handsomest girl in the room at the Assembly. Did you tell me that she was unsuitable for me only to take her for yourself?”
Darcy sneezed violently. “I am unwell and unwilling to continue this conversation. You have my full support in pursuing the lady. Whether or not Caroline marries well is entirely up to you and your sister. Perhaps her fortune will secure her a match with an impoverished nobleman. There are plenty of those in our circle. I have nothing further to say on the matter.”
“So, I have your approval?” asked Bingley.
“Do you need my approval?”
“No, but I should like to have it, all the same.” He hung his head. “I am most sorry I accused you of being underhanded. You have always been a good friend to me, and I should not like to lose your friendship.”
Darcy placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It appears you are a man in love, so you are forgiven your foray into unfounded jealousy. Perhaps you should make an offer to the lady, rather than depend on charges of compromise to win her. ’Tis likely she would rather have some say in the matter of her marriage.” The gentleman punctuated his speech with another sneeze followed by a shiver.
The younger man looked at him with apprehension. “You are indeed ill. I shall have the local physician meet us at Netherfield. He can see you and Miss Bennet in the same visit, and I shall be able to apply that in bolstering my case for taking her to Netherfield.”
Darcy looked at him askance. “I am delighted to be useful to your machinations. How fortuitous that I am cold and miserable. However, before you announce to the village and the inhabitants of Longbourn and Netherfield that I am sick, please allow the man to make that determination. Perhaps you should direct him to come here to see Miss Bennet and me.”
Bingley looked at his feet. “I thought of that, of course, but I decided against it.”
“May I ask why?”
The young man looked up, shame marring his expression. “He may not allow me to take her to Netherfield should he determine she is too ill to be moved.”
Darcy shook his head. “Do you hear yourself?”
“I know I am selfish, but you must admit she will receive better care at Netherfield than she would here in a public inn with no one to attend her but the innkeeper’s wife. I am thinking of her as much as I am thinking of myself.”
“I rather doubt that.”
“You must know I would never do anything I thought would truly endanger her,” replied Bingley, looking earnestly at his friend.
“Then you will ask the physician to come here and take his advice concerning moving her to Netherfield?”
Bingley frowned. “I will. He shall be fetched posthaste. But know this, if Miss Bennet stays here, so will I.”
“Then I shall remain here as well,” Darcy replied with a sigh. “That way, you will be with me, and her reputation, as well as yours, shall be protected.”
Bingley turned and strode to the innkeeper, who immediately called a boy and sent him scurrying out the door.
Before half an hour had passed, the physician, Mr. Jones, had examined both his patients and approved the plan to move them to Netherfield with instructions to go to bed and stay there until he arrived.
“I should much rather go to Longbourn, Mr. Jones. I have no wish to be a burden to the ladies of Netherfield,” said Jane weakly.
“Nonsense, my dear,” replied the kindly man. “Mr. Bingley insists that you must go with his party to Netherfield, for he knows you would not wish to spread the contagion to more than one house.”
“More than one house?” she asked, alarmed. “Am I not the only one who is ill?”
“No, Miss Bennet,” he answered, patting her hand. “Mr. Darcy is very much indisposed, as well. Would you have me run between Longbourn and Netherfield for the next week when I might visit only Netherfield? You know, Netherfield is much closer to my home than is Longbourn.”
She drew her brows together, coughing into a handkerchief. “When you put it that way, I suppose I must go to Netherfield. I only hope I shan’t make Mr. Bingley’s sisters sick.”
“Mr. Bingley thought you might say that, sweet child, and he was adamant that there would be no danger to anyone at Netherfield. He assured me he would send a letter ahead of the carriages, directing his sisters to stay in their rooms when you arrive. They will not be exposed to you or Mr. Darcy.”
Though Darcy truly felt very poorly, he took upon himself the burden of writing a note to Mr. Bennet, apprising him of the situation. He knew the man would be unable to read Mr. Bingley’s blot-covered scribbling and told his friend as much. Therefore, he spared Mr. Bingley the embarrassment of Mr. Bennet coming to Netherfield himself, having been unable to make heads or tails of his abysmal penmanship.
Bingley instead busied himself with sending instructions to Caroline, confident that she would understand his hand.
Servants hurried to outfit each carriage with blankets and warmers enough to please all the travelers, as well as the doctor. Once the rain had abated and the patients were comfortably settled, without further delay, the party began their journey to Netherfield.
Beauty is in the eye of the gazer.
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
Elizabeth rose from her bed before the sun breached the hills, determined upon her course.
A stable boy from Netherfield had appeared the prior evening with
a note informing the inhabitants of Longbourn that Jane was quite ill and would remain with her hosts for the foreseeable future.
She had promptly announced in no uncertain terms to her parents that she would go to her sister, and would have left then, but her father forbade her to leave Longbourn so late at night.
Looking out her window, she muttered to herself. “’Tis no longer dark. I shall see for myself if my sister is suffering due to the manipulations of our mother. I know Jane would wish me to be with her, and nothing will stop my going.”
The young woman dressed quickly, pushed her curls beneath her bonnet, and quietly crept downstairs, determined to make her escape before her family stirred.
“Good morning, my dear.” Mrs. Bailey, holding a hamper, smiled at her from the foot of the stairs. “I thought you might try to slip past me.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Never. You know me too well. I was, however, attempting to depart before my parents and sisters could harangue me further.” She paused and tilted her head. “What do you have in that hamper?”
“I packed a breakfast for you, as well as two packages of treats: one for you and dear Jane, and another for your hosts. You must not arrive empty-handed. Food equals love and sympathy where I came from. A gift of food shows good manners.”
Elizabeth kissed her cheek and took the hamper by its handle. “You are very sweet. I know Jane will appreciate your thoughtfulness, and if the Bingleys and Mr. Darcy do not, I feel certain I shall be able to find someone who will. Everyone knows you are the best cook in Hertfordshire.”
Mrs. Bailey patted her arm. “Now get along with you. Your father will soon be downstairs, and he may not allow you to walk three miles in the mud.”
The young woman nodded as she walked towards the entrance, Mrs. Bailey following close behind her to open the door. She stood and watched Elizabeth until her favourite turned to wave at her from the crest of the hill, the first light of sunrise silhouetting her figure.
“’I think it an excellent thing I walk with Jane twice a day,” Elizabeth said to herself. “Otherwise, carrying this hamper so far would surely have been too much for me.”
