“No, there was not.” Thornton replied. “A cousin of Mr. Bennet has recently taken up residence and the other extra rooms are, apparently, in a constant state of refurbishment by Mrs. Bennet. She is, as I was told when I was below stairs, uncertain as to whether Greek Revival or the Egyptian theme is the current fashion in the first circles.” Thornton blandly reported. “Per Cook, this situation has existed for almost six years so the staff does not see the guest quarters becoming available in the near future.”
“Have I been here long?”
Thornton continued to fold what looked to be white cotton cloths into a pile on top of a dressing table next to the only door in the room.
“It has been several hours since the apothecary left. There was a small amount of laudanum mixed with your tea, sir. Has it helped with the pain?”
“What pain?” He changed his position. His right ankle made its presence known. He found the pain.
Memories of the effort it had taken to get from the pony cart upstairs to the bedroom flashed back to mind and he grimaced. He was a large man, tall in size, with heavy arm muscles and broad shoulders developed from working the land. His thighs were massive from hours and hours upon horseflesh, almost daily, since his youth. He had been a cumbersome burden to the grooms and who he assumed was Mr. Bennet’s man. The master of the house had not deemed the situation worthy of his personal involvement. Darcy shook his head at the slight. No matter! It was not Mr. Bennet who held his attention. The indignity of his arrival had embarrassed him and he vowed never to be put in such a position in the future, if it could at all be helped.
Had he only chosen to wait for his mare, he would not be lying abed at Longbourn. Lying in Miss Elizabeth’s bed! He smiled, inappropriately.
“What of Miss Elizabeth?” His presence had thrust her from her personal area. He felt guilt. Then solace. Nesting down in her bed was like having her arms wrapped around him, soothing him. He was, again, being ridiculous.
“She is with Miss Bennet.”
“Ah, I am not surprised.”
“Yes, the two eldest, according to the staff are the closest of sisters and are admired by the whole of the servants, Miss Elizabeth in particular.”
“Why, you are a fount of information, Thornton.”
“I try, sir.”
“Why has Miss Elizabeth been singled out? Did they clarify?” His curiosity knew no bounds.
“They reported on her unfailing kindness to the tenant families when they are in need. Miss Elizabeth endeavors to ease matters when her mother becomes overwrought and her demands are more than what the servants typically bear. The housekeeper praises the young Miss’s efforts to instruct her younger sisters on proper decorum, and Cook claims this particular gentleman’s daughter has tree climbing to a fine art. She is able to quickly return with a basket of the best apples for her father’s favorite fruit tarts.”
“I thank you, Thornton.” Darcy mumbled, adding each detail to what he already knew and liked about Miss Elizabeth Bennet. “The information is helpful.”
As much as it was Thornton’s position to respect his master, Darcy, unusually, for one of his status, held his valet in high esteem. Rarely did the older man display emotion. Rarely did he express an opinion, though when asked, his replies displayed an inherent intelligence Darcy cherished.
Curiosity planted itself behind him, dug in its heels, and was forcefully nudging him to ask. “Was this all you learned about the Bennets?” Truly, he cared not about anyone other than the second eldest child, but did not want to expose his feelings when he was in complete denial of having any emotional ties to her. And, he was comfortable in his denial, thank you very much!
“It was reported downstairs that the youngest had much rather have had an officer staying at Longbourn than either you or her father’s cousin. Miss Kitty seconded her opinion.” Thornton stood as still as a statue, keeping his eyes focused somewhere on the wall behind the bed, his countenance similar to a first year student reciting the alphabet to his school master. “The next in line, Miss Mary, according to the housekeeper, Mrs. Hill, who is not above gossiping, expressed a decided lack of faith in the Almighty as the reason for your injury.”
Both men rolled their eyes.
“Miss Jane Bennet has not ceased fretting over the pain you are suffering. Mrs. Bennet claims it is more challenging to have one man in ill health than all five of her daughters at once, and the rector, Mr. Bennet’s cousin, has been trying to personally offer you guidance and counsel from God’s Word by knocking at the door every thirty minutes to request the favor of attending you. I am now able to accurately tell the passage of time by his petitions. Mr. Bennet has not left his book room since my arrival and, I am led to believe, since your arrival as well.”
Darcy hesitated. “Has Miss Elizabeth spoken of my injury?” His breath caught in his sore throat as he awaited Thornton’s reply.
“She has not.”
Disappointment hit him hard and fast.
“However,” Thornton quickly added, to Darcy’s intense relief. “Miss Elizabeth has had no need to inquire as she has personally seen to every aspect of your care and mine.”
Three short taps sounded on the outside of the door. Completely forgetting everything his valet had told him with the exception of the young lady of interest seeing to his needs, he called out, “Enter!”
Mr. William Collins, rector of Hunsford Parish, and cousin of his host, Mr. Bennet, stepped through the door.
It took less than ten seconds for Darcy to wish him banished from his room to a far-flung region in Tibet. No, Tibet was a place he had a budding interest in visiting. It would not do. One of the penal colonies of Australia? He shook off the thought as the man continued his nasal ramblings. The tiger-infested jungles of…remnants of laudanum induced confusion blotted his thinking and he could not seem to recall where there were man-eating tigers. India! The man needed one-way passage on the next steamer leaving England.
“…Lady Catherine de Bourgh,”
Darcy caught the name. “My aunt? How do you know my aunt?”
“Your aunt!” The younger man with greasy hair and a bulbous nose was flabbergasted. “You are related to the most elegant, most refined, exemplar of the highest echelons of society?”
“No, I am not.” Darcy scoffed. His aunt embodied none of those characteristics. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh is my mother’s sister. Who might you be?”
“I am Mr. William Collins, at your service.” He bowed. “Since you are nephew to my esteemed patroness and are not in uniform, I take it you are Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. I doubt the Viscount would be in this humble area of England.”
Darcy chose not to address the location of his Fitzwilliam cousins with the clergyman. They had not been properly introduced and he felt he owed the man nothing.
He was offended by his unwanted guest’s lack of hygiene. Did he not understand God created water on the first, or maybe it was the second, or possibly the third creative day so Adam could have a bath soon after he was formed from the dust?
“I currently hold the living at Hunsford under the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She has tasked me with selecting a wife from one of my cousin’s daughters.” The man clasped his lapels and rocked up on his toes. Did he think it improved his stature? It did not! “You see, this estate is entailed to the male line. Since Mrs. Bennet saw fit to produce mere females, the inheritance will fall to me. Lady Catherine clearly expressed the opinion that offering an olive branch by marrying a Bennet girl will ease the frantic concern Mr. Bennet has over his family’s future. Once he dies, of course.”
“Of course,” Darcy whispered, processing the information. He was confident Mrs. Bennet had not chosen to have only female children and, it was she, and not her husband, who was the one frantically searching for marriage mates with enough blunt to support her and the daughters remaining at home should something untoward happen to her spouse. According to rumor, for he did not know whether this was truth or
not, Mr. Bennet appeared to be entirely unconcerned about anything other than his books.
While his mind wandered, the parson continued his discourse. Darcy ignored him for the most part.
“…Miss Elizabeth,”
“What?” Darcy demanded. How dare the man speak of the second eldest Bennet daughter in the same conversation as Lady Catherine—or marriage!
“I am sorry. Pardon me. Were you not attending?” The man did that rocking thing again. “I have determined none other than Miss Elizabeth Bennet will be the beneficiary of my humble home, my affections, and the source of happiness of my future life. Sir.” He added. “It was almost love at first sight.”
“Almost?” Darcy hissed.
“Certainly. An intelligent man such as yourself should not be surprised when my interest first fell to Miss Bennet. Her classic beauty and her quiet demeanor would have added to my standing in the parish. When Mrs. Bennet claimed her eldest was soon to be engaged, my attention turned to the second daughter. For the purpose of peace between the Bennet family and me, I thought I would lower my sights to Miss Elizabeth.”
Added to the runny nose, scratchy throat, fever, and itchy, watery eyes, Darcy now had steam coming from his ears.
“Settle? Lower your sights?” Anger filled him from his head to his toes. “You think to settle by choosing Miss Elizabeth?” He huffed. “You ignorant, sycophant buffoon.”
Three
Within seconds of his proclamation, there was another tap on his door. Growling at Mr. Collins, he did not change his tone when he bade whoever was attempting to invade his presence to enter. Instantly, he was apologetic.
Miss Elizabeth refused to look at him as she stood in the opened doorway. She had changed from her wet clothes and wore a day dress of pale blue. He believed it was now his favorite color. Her hair had been restyled and she looked as fresh as the summer sunshine and as desirable as a new foal. Rather than peering at him, she gave her full attention to the man attempting to hover over his bed. Or, rather, her bed.
Darcy wondered at the rector when he appeared to ignore Miss Elizabeth’s presence, the fire shooting from her lovely eyes, and her hands planted firmly on her hips. Darcy was aware he did not know that much about women, but he had seen that stance when his mother was irritated at his father and her ire was well-deserved. It was an expression deserving of notice by every man. The rector failed to see the obvious.
“Mr. Collins, I believe you are needed elsewhere.” Miss Elizabeth’s tone was crisp.
“Miss Elizabeth!” The rector’s voice was raised. “How could you not have informed me that the man betrothed to the daughter of my patroness was staying in my future home?”
“Betrothed?” Miss Elizabeth whispered as she glanced at Darcy.
Mr. Collins balled his fists and stomped towards the young woman. “Your oversight has placed me in an uncomfortable position…”
How dare a man intimidate a female! It was not done. Darcy was horrified at the oaf’s demeanor as he approached Miss Elizabeth. Acting on impulse, he jumped out of bed to offer his protection.
He was fine throwing back the bed clothes and sitting up from the pillows. It was when Darcy placed his stockinged feet on the floor and stood upright that his world suddenly tilted off its axis.
The imbecilic parson was far slower to respond than the nimble Miss Elizabeth. She ran to Darcy’s side, wrapping her arms around his chest, while leaning into him to bear his weight and keep him from falling to the hardwood floor.
He hissed as pain radiated up his leg, instantly throbbing like the worst headache known to mankind. To steady himself, or, at least, that was how he would explain himself later, he hugged her tightly to him until he could balance unassisted on his uninjured leg. Lavender!
Momentarily closing his eyes, the scratchy, gritty feeling evaporated like the morning mist, the porcupine leapt from his throat, and his nose returned to the size he had been wearing since adolescence. He felt amazing as he relished the feel of her slight form in his embrace.
The pounding of his heart found its way to his inner ears so he did not at first hear the screeching coming from the hallway outside of the opened door of the bed chamber.
Miss Elizabeth heard. She pulled her head back and looked him directly in the eye.
“This does not look good, Mr. Darcy. Perhaps I should have let you fall?” She smirked, though it did not reach her eyes.
Darcy looked behind her to see a red-faced Mr. Collins standing beside an equally excitable Mrs. Bennet, whose index finger was pointing directly at him.
“Compromise!” The matron yelled as if Longbourn was a home for the hard-of hearing or she was the archangel coming to call the dead from their graves. “You, sir, have need to speak immediately to Mr. Bennet to arrange marriage to my Lizzy. Act the gentleman, and do it now!”
He was far more offended at her claim he was not presenting himself as a gentleman than her charge to marry Miss Elizabeth. He had been raised by a family who oozed gentlemanliness from their pores. How dare she! In his ire, he pulled Miss Elizabeth tighter into his chest. Lavender!
Ignoring the clergyman, Mrs. Bennet stepped closer. It was not until she was almost standing next to Darcy before his mind cleared of the scent and his brain began to function. Surely, Miss Elizabeth’s mother should have demanded he release her daughter, but she had not. Curious. Surely, Miss Elizabeth should have immediately insisted on being released, but she did not. Or, wait a moment…
Disregarding the presence of Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Collins, and Thornton, he gave his attention entirely to the young woman in his arms. She was not looking at him. In fact, her efforts appeared to focus solely on the need to keep him upright and stable, rather than the inner turmoil he was feeling.
How distressingly mortifying!
Was she not secretly pleased to be held so close? He was pleased. Was she not hoping, after the weeks of attention from the highest ranking single man to visit their portion of Hertfordshire in decades, that he would finally declare himself? He was hoping.
He squeezed tighter, wishing she would look at him. She did not, as she continued to adjust her weight to support him.
For a certainty, Miss Elizabeth had to realize what an honor it would be to have her name connected with his. Certainly! He squeezed again, and, again, she shifted her weight. Since he reached his majority, there had not been one mother with maiden daughters who had not sought his attention as a future son-in-law. Their offspring had followed like sheep to the bidding of their parent. None had balked. Why should Miss Elizabeth? He huffed scornfully. Of course, she would be pleased. She read Plutarch! She was intelligent enough to comprehend the benefits to her and her family by becoming a Darcy.
When Mrs. Bennet again started speaking, it became apparent that her overriding motivation was not anger, but glee. “Ten thousand a year. Well done, Lizzy. Think of the pin money, the carriages, the jewels.” Her beefy hands rubbed together as her eyes glazed over. “I need to share my joy with Lady Lucas and Mrs. Phillips. They will be pleased with my success.”
“Mama!” Miss Elizabeth dropped her arms and stepped back, though she kept her hand firmly fastened on Darcy’s upper arm to give him support. “Pray, hush. You have not witnessed a compromise. Mr. Darcy could have added to his injuries had he fallen. My assistance was only to keep him from coming to further harm. It would not do for the neighbors to know he worsened while at Longbourn, would it?”
Her efforts failed to reach beyond Mrs. Bennet’s own conclusions. Mr. Collins decided it was sensible to add his opinion. He was blatantly incorrect of what constituted good sense.
“Mrs. Bennet, you are mistaken.” He moved closer to where the three were standing. “Mr. Darcy cannot be forced to wed your daughter as he is already betrothed to the finest jewel in all of England. Lady Catherine de Bourgh will not accept your efforts to distract him from her goal.”
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh? Who is she to me?” Mrs. Bennet huffed.
“Besides, Miss Elizabeth is to be my wife.” The look the dolt gave Miss Elizabeth was pointed as he lifted his chin and squinted his eyes. “Her current display proves she needs a strong hand to temper her impulsiveness.” He reached to grab her arm. “I will see she learns the value of a submissive wife, do not worry.”
Enraged, Darcy pulled Miss Elizabeth away from Mr. Collins and tucked her in beside him, clasping her hand as he did so. She tried to shake him off, but he would not budge.
How had his day come to this? All he had wanted to do was ride his horse, avoid Caroline Bingley’s efforts to manipulate him into a marriage he did not want, and ponder his future as master of Pemberley. Now? He was injured, wanting to beat another human being into a pulp, and engaged to marry the one woman who had stirred his interest.
Apparently, Miss Elizabeth Bennet had had enough. She pushed Darcy hard enough he lost his balance and sat back so heavily on her mattress that he bounced. Then she turned to address Mr. Collins. She was magnificent!
Mr. Darcy's Bad Day: A Pride & Prejudice Novella Page 2
