by Wendi Sotis
Turning to watch her mother bustle across the room, Elizabeth began to close the door, but, at the sound of giggles, she opened it again.
“Are we not welcome, Lizzy?” Lydia asked. She and Kitty giggled again as they sashayed past her.
Elizabeth checked the hallway carefully before closing the door again. When she approached the bed, her mother was feeling Jane’s forehead for signs of a fever.
“We would have come to see you sooner, but Mr. Bennet forbade it. Your father finally gave his permission for us to visit you after the doctor told him you only have a trifling cold,” Mrs. Bennet explained, waving her lace handkerchief in the air. “I told them and told them that you could not be very ill like the Long family or else, being your mother, I would have known, but did they believe me?” She pouted and shook her head. “But here you are, and I am glad to see that you do not look very ill to me, dear. It is just as I said.” The lady folded her hands before her and smiled. “It was very clever of you to fall ill while still at Netherfield and be forced to stay on here, Jane, but perhaps it would have been better had your roles been reversed. Lizzy should be the one ill, and you should have stayed to nurse her, for you cannot see much of Mr. Darcy and make him fall in love with you while sick in bed, now can you?”
Lydia and Kitty were overcome with fits of giggles as they whispered to each other as to which one of the four of them would actually have caught the eye of Mr. Darcy if they had been staying at Netherfield, as well.
“But Mama! Jane is truly ill—” Elizabeth began.
“Of course she is, Lizzy! Jane would never lie.”
Elizabeth stared at her mother, bewildered by her reasoning. She blinked several times in confusion and looked at Jane, but Jane was only smiling at her mother. She often wondered if Jane really understood their mother or if she only feigned understanding to save the matron from embarrassment.
Mrs. Bennet continued. “Mr. Jones was speaking to your father when we left Longbourn. He should soon be here to examine you, dear. I wanted to be here when he did, so we came right away.”
“Perhaps my sisters and I should call on Miss Darcy, Miss Bingley, and Mrs. Hurst once Mr. Jones arrives, Mama.”
“That is an excellent idea, Lizzy.”
Lydia walked around to the side of the bed opposite where Jane was lying and plopped upon the mattress. As usual, Kitty mimicked her. The two bounced a little, declared the bed to be strung well, and began to speak to Jane of the latest news from the neighbourhood.
“Mama,” Elizabeth said quietly, “how ill are the Long family?”
“Mr. Jones said they are faring a little better this morning—even old Mr. Long, who everyone in the neighbourhood was certain would die from the fever. It seems the worst is over.”
“How many others became ill?”
“It was limited to their house, it seems. Just a few of the servants and a tenant farmer who had recently spent several hours speaking to Mr. Long about an improvement.”
“And they all live?”
“Yes, yes, Mr. Jones told your father that everyone is recovering nicely. We should see the Longs at church by the end of the month, I am told.”
“That is a relief,” Elizabeth answered just as another knock sounded out. She admitted Mr. Jones and almost laughed at his expression of shock upon seeing so many people in the room. Elizabeth corralled Kitty and Lydia to usher them downstairs, nodding to Mr. Jones’s look of sincere thanks before closing the door behind her.
~%~
“Oh, Jane, it was surely a sight to behold!” Elizabeth shook her head. “You should be glad that you are confined to bed.”
“Was it truly that awful?”
Elizabeth saw Jane’s distress and decided that her sister did not really need to know how mortifying her family’s behaviour had been during their visit. She had been surprised that the gentlemen had joined the ladies of the house, but they had—which made the behaviour of her mother and two youngest sisters all the more embarrassing. Once her mother joined them, her constant compliments for Mr. and Miss Darcy and her almost snubbing manner towards Mr. Bingley had been a bit surprising. Elizabeth had been afraid Mr. Bingley would think her family did not approve of him until her silly sisters struck up a conversation with the young man. Although the subject of her sisters’ banter had not been entirely proper, at least the poor man had no longer been ignored.
“Well, maybe it was not so bad as all that. One part of the discussion which you will find very interesting ended with Lydia and Kitty having Mr. Bingley promise to hold a ball at Netherfield! When you are fully recovered, of course.”
“The drawing!” Jane exclaimed.
“Apparently so.” Elizabeth laughed and then turned thoughtful. “Maybe it is Kitty sending the drawings after all.”
“You do not really believe that, do you, Lizzy?”
“No, no, I do not.” She sighed. “Oh, and Georgiana was afraid you would be tired from your visit with the family and the apothecary’s examination. I was to send word...” Elizabeth looked up to find Jane’s eyelids drooping.
“I am tired, Lizzy. Can Georgiana come after luncheon, perhaps?”
“Yes, I am certain she will agree to it. If you are going to sleep, I think I will take a walk. I will stay within sight of the house, in case I am needed.” I would ask Georgiana to accompany me, but I need a little time alone to recover from that visit!
Jane nodded. Elizabeth rearranged her sister’s pillows and coverings and then slipped out through the door to her own chamber.
~%~
Because the library and Bingley’s study were the only two places other than his own bedchamber where he was safe from Miss Bingley’s attentions, he usually could be found in one or the other when his sister was otherwise occupied. This morning, Darcy was waiting for Bingley to become available to ride out and inspect a few tenant farms, so he had retreated to the library. Although he had selected a book to read, his thoughts drifted to Elizabeth, her family, and her letters. Noting the page number where he had left off, he laid the book on his lap and stared out the window at nothing in particular.
Elizabeth’s nervous discomfiture every time she received a letter made him uneasy. Something was wrong.
Darcy shook his head. This uncertainty was causing him to become harsh when conversing with her. When Elizabeth had taken offense at his question, he was surprised that an ache within his chest had sprung up in response. He hoped never again to be the cause of such a pained expression on her beautiful face.
Today, when Elizabeth’s mother and sisters had descended upon Netherfield to visit the ailing eldest daughter, Darcy distanced himself from Elizabeth, hoping to limit the distraction of having her near him. Using this strategy, he gained a clear understanding that, for once, Caroline Bingley was correct in her opinions.
Mrs. Bennet’s conduct was deplorable, as was that of her two youngest daughters. Afraid that the younger girls would be a bad influence on Georgiana, he had almost sent his sister from the room. Amazingly enough, the only daughter in attendance who was behaving appropriately was also the only one who Mrs. Bennet scolded.
Much like the matchmaking mamas of the ton, Mrs. Bennet had eyes only for the gentleman with the deepest pockets. Even though Bingley was interested in her daughter, Mrs. Bennet refused to notice because, he assumed, a Darcy was the better catch. If Jane Bennet had been in the room, he was sure her mother would have tripped the poor girl so that she would have ended up in his lap.
Movement outside the window caught his eye. He looked up and saw Elizabeth on a solitary ramble. Placing his book on a side table, he stood and moved towards the window so that he could have a better view. She was so lovely, and, even though he knew she must be tired after spending so much time nursing her sister, she was glowing with good health.
Elizabeth looked up at a flock of geese in flight. As if he knew she was about to look in his direction, Darcy stepped back away from the window. Elizabeth seemed to look around to see if
anyone else was in the park, and then she removed her bonnet. He watched as she absentmindedly threaded the ribbon through her fingers, allowing the hat to hang from her hand.
Without realizing it, he stepped forward again and leaned upon the window frame.
Tilting her head back so that her face could catch the rays of the sun, Elizabeth closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. What he would not have given to be standing before her as she did so, to have been close enough to gather her into his arms and press his mouth against her inviting lips. He could almost taste the sweetness of her skin, as she exposed the full length of her neck to his hungry eyes. His heart almost leapt out of his chest, it beat so furiously. What this woman did to him!
At last, she opened her eyes. Something in her mischievous expression made him think she would throw out her arms and twirl around in circles. She did not do so, but he guessed that if she were not in view of the house, she would have. She replaced her bonnet, tied the ribbons, and began walking again.
What was it like to embrace every moment the way he knew Elizabeth did? If he were able to give in to his heart’s desire, could she teach him? Or would it come to him naturally, just being near her day in and day out?
Even here at Netherfield, far away from all those who depended on him at Pemberley, Darcy House, and his other family holdings, the weight of his responsibilities pressed down on him. This was his reality—his life—ever since the day his father died... no, since even before then, if he was honest with himself. But somehow, when he was with Elizabeth, the burden felt lighter, and he felt more alive than he ever had before.
He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of her against him on the street at Ramsgate when they first met. He breathed deeply, imagining her scent. How he wished he could live in that moment forever.
Suddenly sensing Elizabeth’s gaze upon him, his eyes snapped open. Obviously, he had stepped too close to the glass. Elizabeth was staring directly at him. Their eyes locked, and his heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, his hand raised, and he waved. She smiled, bowed her head slightly, and then turned and walked away.
I should have been more careful. He swallowed hard. I must remind myself of all the reasons I cannot follow my heart. Society, her family... he nodded.
He must keep these points in mind every time he saw Elizabeth—every time her tinkling laughter warmed his soul, every time her fine eyes met his and sparked a deep longing, every time she passed by and left him surrounded by her scent, taking his breath away...
The moment Bingley no longer required his guidance, he would take Georgiana and flee far away from Elizabeth. They would go to Pemberley where there were no reminders.
He would wait to return to Darcy House until he could read a play by Shakespeare without thinking of her—without reliving that night in Ramsgate when he had assisted her with reaching a book. By the time he returned to his townhouse in London, surely all temptation would have faded. He would be able to walk into the music room without hearing her play, or look out a window in the front half of the house without seeing her there.
Yes, I can do this. I must.
~%~
Elizabeth opened the door to allow Hanna into the room.
“This letter come for you, if you please, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Hanna, why are you bringing it to me? I would have found it the next time I came downstairs.”
“Oh, no, miss—the other maids are all willy nilly over ya’ letters appearin’ out o’ nowhere. They won’t even go into the main hall no more at all if there be a letter there. Me or Agnes or the butler or housekeepa’ has to dust there, now... keep sayin’ there’s magic at work wit’ them letters o’ yours. I figured ‘twould be better to get it out o’ the hall, so I brought it up to ya’.”
Elizabeth blinked several times before asking, “What do you mean, they appear out of nowhere?”
“One minute the table’s clear; the next, the letter’s there. Nobody sees anybody comin’ nor goin’, but the letter is there.”
“Really?” Elizabeth braced herself. “Are they all afraid of me?”
“No, not you exactly, but they don’t want to be in your room to clean or nothing’, ma’am.”
“You are not afraid, too?”
Hanna shook her head. “’Tis true it’s strange, but ’twould be silly ta be afeared of paper. Besides, I’ve known ya all me life. There ain’t nothin’ ta be afeared of.”
“Thank you, Hanna. I am glad to hear I have not lost your confidence, at least.”
Hanna left, and Elizabeth sank into a chair by the fireplace.
They appear out of nowhere? Looking down at the letter in her hand, she thought, My letters have drawn enough speculation! We must leave Netherfield. If Jane is well enough to go downstairs to the drawing room this evening, I should be able to talk her into returning home on the morrow.
She turned over the missive and broke the seal. Unfolding the pages revealed another picture of Wickham, this time at the home of her Aunt and Uncle Phillips. He was looking at Elizabeth in a certain way that made her blood feel as if it had turned to ice water. She shuddered. The next had to be better! She turned the page.
Elizabeth gasped. Wickham was with Lydia, alone behind her aunt and uncle’s house in the village, and they were kissing!
No, this cannot be! He will ruin her—and ruin our entire family! Uncle wrote to Papa... how can this be? I must ask Mr. Darcy to speak to my father... to warn him further, so that Papa will be more thorough in forbidding my sisters to have anything to do with the scoundrel.
I must not show these to Jane. Maybe the first, but in her weakened condition, I fear the second would upset her too much.
~
When she entered the library, Elizabeth was relieved that she had been correct in thinking Darcy remained where she had seen him through the window earlier. His mien was soft and inviting at first. As she crossed the room, heading directly towards him, he stood. She was confused by the change in him. It was as if a veil of stone fell across his features—as if he was steeling himself for a confrontation. Then, when she came to a stop before him, he looked directly at her again, and his eyes filled with worry.
“Is something wrong, Miss Elizabeth? Please sit... you seem upset.”
She waved him off. “I thank you for your concern, Mr. Darcy. I shall not remain long for I realize our being alone is not proper, but I must ask—no, I must beg of you, to speak to my father... to warn him about Mr. Wickham’s vile nature. I fear for my sisters’ safety.”
“Do you have information that he has arrived in the village?”
“No, sir, I do not believe he has arrived yet, but I do think he will be here soon.”
“Miss Elizabeth, why do you think he is coming?”
“Please trust me... he will come to Meryton.”
Darcy’s features hardened once more, but his lips twitched as if he were holding himself back from saying all that he wished. “You will not tell me how you are so certain of the scoundrel’s whereabouts?” As she searched for a way to answer him, he was quiet for several moments, but then he continued, “You ask me to trust you, and yet you will not give me the same courtesy?”
“It is not that I do not trust you, Mr. Darcy. I... I have my reasons for not disclosing that information, sir.”
She could see the muscles of his jaw working before he said, “From whom do all these letters come, Miss Elizabeth—the ones that upset you so thoroughly?”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “Of what are you accusing me, Mr. Darcy?” Sudden understanding dawned upon her, and she gasped. “Do you honestly believe I could do anything so wholly improper as to correspond with that... that... reprobate?”
“I do not think you would correspond with him, but it may not be your choice that he sends you letters. Tell me, Miss Elizabeth, how else would you know he is coming?”
“If Wickham were sending me letters, I would burn them... refuse them... send them back.”
“It is from the letters, but they are not from Wickham.” For a moment, since she really did not know from whom they came, she doubted her confidence. But certainly, Wickham would not warn her that he himself was dangerous! Her hand twitched as her thoughts moved to the drawings in the pocket on her skirt, but she knew she could not show them to him.
His brows raised high. “Who is sending them?”
Elizabeth took a deep, calming breath. Indeed, based on her reactions every time she received a drawing, she probably did seem guilty of something, and Darcy had been present time and time again when she received one. She had often feared someone would eventually suspect her.
If our roles had been reversed, would I not have alleged something similar? She closed her eyes again and took another deep breath. No, I cannot blame him for thinking this of me, even though it is not true!
Straightening her form, Elizabeth folded her hands before her. In a much calmer tone of voice, she said, “I wish I could explain, but I cannot.”
“You cannot, or you will not?” His anger was still evident in his tone.
Elizabeth pleaded with him, “Please, sir, please understand that I cannot tell you.” For you would think me mad if I did! Tears pricked at her eyes.
His expression softened once again to one of concern, but he turned away, as if he did not wish her to see. After a minute of staring out the window, Darcy declared, “If Wickham comes to Meryton, I will speak to Mr. Bennet.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” She turned from him and exited the room.
~%~
As Mrs. Younge closed the door of Mr. Darcy’s sitting room behind her, her heart pounded so frantically, it almost leapt from her chest.
Could Mr. Darcy be correct? Had her beloved Wickham joined the militia after all? Would he actually be coming to stay a mere two miles away, in Meryton?
Although the little miss did not seem to need her here, she saw now that she had made the right decision of remaining with the Darcys after all!
