A Case of Some Delicacy

by K C Kahler

  Mr Darcy bowed his head in response. “You are correct on all counts. I met the Grantlys when Lady Catherine invited them to dine with us during my last visit. Indeed, they are a respectable, and respectful, family. I am sure my aunt appreciates your astute perceptions in regards to her acquaintances.”

  Mr Collins nearly beamed at such high praise, but he remembered that the letter contained some news. If he learned this information now, perhaps he could impress Lady Catherine with his knowledge when he returned to Kent. “You mentioned that one of the sons is engaged to be married?”

  “Yes, their youngest son, Mr Arthur Grantly, who has a promising career in the law, has recently become engaged. Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh were invited to a small celebration in the couple’s honour. Unfortunately, Lady Catherine does not completely approve of the young lady.”

  “Oh dear, that is unfortunate.” What disappointment Mr Collins would feel if Lady Catherine ever disapproved of him. “From what circumstance does this disapproval stem?”

  “The young lady in question, a Miss Horton, has adequate fortune, acceptable connexions, and the appropriate education and accomplishments for her future station. Lady Catherine does not find fault in any of that. However, my aunt feels that for the wife of the third son of a family of no great consequence, Miss Horton is too handsome.”

  Mr Collins took a moment, but could not quite grasp the objection. “Pardon me?”

  “Has my aunt never explained her philosophy on beauty and station?” Mr Darcy looked surprised that the parson did not understand, and this shamed Mr Collins.

  “I see that she has not. Let me enlighten you. Lady Catherine does not approve of excessive beauty in persons of lower rank. For example, Miss Grantly is rather plain, which is one of the reasons Lady Catherine allows her to continue a friendship with my cousin. Miss Horton, however, is another matter. My aunt has decided not to make her objections known to the Grantlys. She doubts she will see much of the future Mr and Mrs Arthur Grantly; therefore, this disproportionate beauty will not trouble her often. She does not find it cause enough to upset the Grantly family over Arthur’s choice, for really, in all other respects, Miss Horton is quite suitable.”

  “Lady Catherine is compassionate of course.” This was all the reply Mr Collins could muster.

  “Indeed, she is. It occurs to me, Mr Collins, that perhaps I ought not have mentioned this to you.”

  “Oh?” He felt unusually deficient of words.

  “Yes, well, Lady Catherine would not wish her objections—since they are not severe enough to make public—to be known by anyone who might cross paths with the Grantlys. She confides in me, as I shall see them but little. If you would be so kind as to not mention this to her, I would appreciate your discretion. She may refer to the engagement of her own accord of course. It is quite possible she will discuss her opinions with you. But let us leave this disclosure to her.”

  “Of course, Mr Darcy, I shall not mention my knowledge to her, nor shall I let it influence my estimation of the Grantlys.”

  “You are very prudent, Mr Collins. I can see why my aunt has taken you under her wing.”

  Mr Collins could only be gratified by this observation. But as he was attempting to grasp the implications of what Mr Darcy had just revealed, he heard a commotion behind him.

  “Oh Lizzy! I’m sorry!” cried Cousin Lydia, helping her sister up off the ground and onto a nearby boulder. “You twisted your ankle—are you terribly injured?”

  “I…do not think so. I just need a moment.” Cousin Elizabeth’s face was drawn in pain.

  Mr Darcy stepped forward. “May I…examine your ankle, Miss Elizabeth, to determine the extent of the injury?”

  “There is no need. We should keep going.” She started to rise but then sucked in a breath and faltered when she put weight on her left leg.

  “Lizzy!” cried Cousin Jane. “Please let Mr Darcy look at it.”

  Cousin Elizabeth acquiesced. Mr Darcy knelt before her while Miss Lydia shifted anxiously behind him.

  Mr Darcy reached for Miss Elizabeth’s left foot, pulling it forward and resting it on his right thigh. Mr Collins looked away in embarrassment, but then he remembered that Mr Darcy of Pemberley, nephew of Lady Catherine, would never do anything improper. A pale Cousin Elizabeth winced as Mr Darcy performed his examination, feeling around her joint as she bent and rotated it at his instruction. Mr Collins tried to look at her ankle as little as possible.

  “I do not think it is broken, but it is badly sprained,” pronounced Mr Darcy.

  Cousin Elizabeth sighed. “I suppose it could have been worse; this could have happened two miles back.”

  Mr Darcy turned towards Mr Bingley. “Charles, would you go ahead to Netherfield and have Mr Jones fetched? And Mr Collins, might you go ahead as well, and take the carriage to inform Mr and Mrs Bennet?”

  “I shall perform this duty most eagerly. Do not worry yourself, Cousin; you will have the comfort of your parents as soon as possible.”

  Mr Bingley was just as eager to be of assistance. “Darcy, is there anything else I can do? Shall I prepare a room for Miss Elizabeth?”

  “Yes, that is a good idea.”

  “Surely there is no need for all this trouble over me. Honestly, it is nothing.”

  “It is no trouble at all, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr Bingley assured her. “Darcy, how will she get to Netherfield?”

  “It seems I shall have the pleasure of carrying another of the Miss Bennets.” This proposed course of action shocked Mr Collins. It seemed the others were shocked as well, for only a gasp from Miss Lydia broke the silence.

  “No, sir, it is too much!” Miss Elizabeth motioned for her sisters to help her rise. “Jane and Lydia will help me; there is no need to take such extreme measures. My ankle is improved already.”

  Miss Lydia agreed. “Yes, Jane and I shall help Lizzy walk. It is too far for you to carry her, and she does not wish it.”

  “She cannot put any weight on it, and it will be much faster if I carry her,” reasoned Mr Darcy.

  Dear Cousin Jane was very worried for her sister. “Please, Lizzy, do not be difficult. Mr Darcy is right. It will be too painful for you to walk all that way.”

  “If someone is to carry my cousin, perhaps it ought to be me?” Mr Collins felt obliged to offer, though he had no enthusiasm at the thought.

  “We are wasting time arguing about this.” Mr Darcy’s voice now brooked no opposition, much like his aunt’s. “Bingley, Mr Collins, go on ahead as discussed. The Miss Bennets and I shall work out how to proceed from here. Please make sure everything is ready when we arrive.”

  Mr Collins did as he was told, hurrying away from the scene. He tried to keep up with Mr Bingley but soon became winded. Mr Bingley called to him, “The sooner I send for the surgeon, the better. I shall have the carriage waiting for you when you arrive.”

  And so it was that a breathless Mr Collins found himself sitting in Mr Bingley’s carriage, swiftly on his way back to Longbourn. He used the time to catch his breath and think back on the day. Up until Miss Elizabeth’s injury, it had been a pleasant if tiring excursion. He had seen much of his future estate, and he had spent many happy moments with dear Cousin Jane. He imagined he would often repeat the act of walking Longbourn’s grounds with her on his arm. But what had Mr Darcy been talking about before they were interrupted?

  He must think on the conversation later, for now he had the solemn duty to inform Mr and Mrs Bennet of their daughter’s injury. No doubt they would be alarmed at Miss Elizabeth’s condition. He decided to work up to the disclosure slowly so as not to shock them. Yes, soften the blow with many praises about their daughter—that would be the right course of action. Luckily, Mr Collins sometimes amused himself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments, though he tried to give them as unstudied an air as possible.

  After sending off a perspiring Mr Collins in the carriage, Bingley instructed Mrs Trent, his housekeeper, to ready
a room for Miss Elizabeth.

  “What do you mean, ‘prepare a guest room,’ Charles?” Caroline asked as they stood together in the entryway.

  “We shall not allow Miss Elizabeth to be jostled about in a carriage. She must stay with us. Surely you see that.”

  “I see nothing of the sort. I daresay such an avid walker can suffer the consequences of her choice of activity.”

  “Caroline, be reasonable. She is staying, and that is final. You will be a gracious hostess.”

  She huffed in irritation. “I suppose we shall not have guests for tea then.”

  “Oh, yes, we shall. In fact, there may be three more people in attendance.” Bingley kept his eyes on the lane in anticipation of Darcy and the Bennet ladies’ arrival.

  “Three more?” Caroline’s voice rose in annoyance. “I thought it would be at least one less, with Mr Collins blessedly removed from our company.”

  “Mr Collins has only gone to retrieve Mr and Mrs Bennet. They will return to see Miss Elizabeth, I am sure.”

  “Are we to receive every Bennet in the country?”

  Ignoring her tone, Bingley added slowly, “Mr Jones may also take tea with us. I suggest you inform the servants of the change in plans. Tea should be served in the drawing room after everyone arrives and Mr Jones has some time with Miss Elizabeth. In the meantime, please wait in the sitting room until you hear from me.”

  Caroline stalked off to do as he said. Bingley shook his head. He could not abide discourtesy. His sister was all that was charming in London society, but it seemed Hertfordshire did not agree with her, for she held her neighbours—even the gentry like the Bennets—in what he could only describe as contempt. He found himself increasingly annoyed by Caroline’s behaviour. Darcy at least behaved consistently—he was unapproachable in both London and the country.

  Bingley still stood in the doorway shaking his head when he noticed some figures walking up the lane. Darcy indeed carried Miss Elizabeth in his arms. Miss Bennet hurried beside him with a worried expression, and Miss Lydia stomped along behind. Bingley swung the door open wide as they made their way up the steps.

  “Her room is not yet ready.”

  Darcy breezed past and into the drawing room where he placed Miss Elizabeth carefully upon a settee. She blushed and thanked him for his assistance as he backed away. Almost immediately, Miss Bennet began fussing over her sister.

  “Lizzy, what can I get you? Shall I place a pillow under your foot?” She did not wait for an answer, retrieving a cushion from a nearby chair. “Mr Bingley, when will Mr Jones arrive?”

  “I expect him any minute. I sent for him first thing, and Mr Collins departed for Longbourn soon after.”

  “My sincere thanks to you, sir, and to you, Mr Darcy. Your quick decisions have been so very helpful. I know not what we should have done without you.” Miss Bennet was almost babbling as she began to lift up Miss Elizabeth’s left leg to place the cushion. She winced, causing Miss Bennet to freeze in horror. Darcy took a step forward and then also froze.

  “Jane, please stop fretting and sit down,” Miss Elizabeth said calmly. “Here, Lydia, will you put this back where it belongs?”

  Miss Lydia took the offending cushion and replaced it on the chair before seating herself upon it. After a slight pause, Miss Elizabeth added, “Now, everyone be calm. It is not as if I have never twisted an ankle before! I thank you for your hospitality, Mr Bingley, but I really must return home with my sisters. I cannot impose on you and your household as an invalid.”

  Before Bingley could reply, Mrs Trent announced Mr Jones. The cheery surgeon stepped into the room, booming, “What’s this? Another injured Bennet girl?” He observed the patient on the settee, her legs raised before her, and then he chuckled. “Miss Elizabeth, I thought you well past the age of reckless dares and awkward scrapes!”

  “I had hoped as much, Mr Jones. But I assure you I was doing nothing more reckless than walking with Lydia.”

  “Well, that explains it. For Miss Lydia certainly is not past that perilous age.”

  Lydia looked down at her hands. “I said I was sorry. You just would not let go of me!” Bingley did not know what this outburst was about.

  “I know you never meant for this to happen. But you must think about…” Miss Elizabeth glanced at the confused faces in the room. “We shall talk about it later. For now, I think Mr Jones was summoned for a reason.”

  “Yes, let’s get on with it. Gentlemen, I need some time alone with the Bennet sisters.” Mr Jones ushered Bingley and Darcy from the room. “I shall come to you when the examination is complete,” he said as he shut the door.

  They stood motionless in the hallway for a moment. “The others are in the sitting room; shall we join them?”

  Darcy began to walk in the correct direction but much more slowly than was normal. “Bingley, it has occurred to me…perhaps Miss Elizabeth would be more willing to stay here, as she should, if you invited Miss Bennet to stay as well.”

  “Yes, of course! You are a genius. Miss Elizabeth will be comforted by her sister’s presence, and Miss Bennet, I am sure, can wish nothing more than to be of assistance. I shall have a second room readied directly. Go on ahead.” Bingley rushed off to find Mrs Trent again and apologised sheepishly for all the changing plans. She assured him it would be no trouble.

  Bingley felt a bit ashamed of himself, but he could not help it—he was glad that Miss Elizabeth had sprained her ankle. He grimaced inwardly when he admitted this horrible thought. Of course he regretted Miss Elizabeth’s pain, particularly when she had been the architect of the delightful day he had enjoyed. But her injury required that she stay at Netherfield and, more to the point, that her elder sister stay to care for her.

  Since his discussion with Darcy about Jane Bennet’s expected engagement, Bingley had spent some time in reflection and arrived at the conclusion that she did not truly welcome Mr Collins’s addresses. She was all that was proper and civil with her cousin, but after studying her expressions and demeanour, Bingley believed the lady felt nothing more than typical friendliness for the parson. Even more exciting than this conclusion was his conviction that Miss Bennet felt a good deal more for himself. She had clearly enjoyed his altered behaviour towards her over the last two days. Now she would be staying in his home, and Bingley was determined to use this opportunity to convey to her that she did have an alternative to Mr Collins if she wished.

  When Bingley entered the sitting room, he heard Caroline’s annoyed voice again. “A sprained ankle is hardly cause enough to take in one of the Bennets, let alone two.”

  Darcy answered her. “It is cause enough for Miss Elizabeth to avoid a rough carriage ride. Surely you of all people can sympathise after delaying our journey from Pemberley to London last summer for your much-less-severe injury.” Darcy paused while Caroline struggled unsuccessfully for a reply. Bingley knew quite well to what Darcy referred. Caroline, after coaxing Darcy to escort her into Pemberley’s rose garden, had foolishly tried to pluck a bloom and pricked herself with a thorn. She had caused quite a commotion at the sight of the blood, insisting it would become infected and demanding their planned departure be delayed. After two days with no sign of impending infection, Bingley had finally convinced her to travel. Darcy had not been pleased. The delay had caused him to miss a small window of opportunity to see Georgiana in London before she went to Ramsgate.

  Darcy added now, obviously knowing his point had been made, “I was under the impression that you enjoyed Miss Bennet’s society. Did you not tell me you would like to know more of her?”

  With a look towards a fuming Caroline, Louisa agreed, “Yes, Jane Bennet is a sweet girl. But I wonder how much opportunity we shall have to entertain her if she is to be constantly looking after her injured sister.”

  Bingley decided to enter the conversation. “I am sure Miss Elizabeth will not require constant care. There is nothing further to discuss. The eldest Miss Bennets will be our guests for tonight, at least, and
several more days if we can convince them.”

  A booming voice from the doorway startled the group, causing even Hurst to sit up straight. “That is excellent news, Mr Bingley. I had worried about the pain Miss Elizabeth would endure if she were to be moved now.” Mr Jones had apparently finished his examination.

  “What is your estimation of Miss Elizabeth’s injury?” Darcy did not wait for all the greetings to be exchanged before making his inquiry.

  “It is a bad sprain. She is in much pain, though she hides it well. She should not attempt to walk on it for several days, and it will be several weeks before she can resume her countryside rambles, though I doubt she will heed my advice.” A worried expression crossed Darcy’s face before he replaced it with his usual bland mask. He had been showing an unusual amount of emotion all day. Perhaps Hertfordshire had the opposite effect on Darcy than it did on Caroline, for now it seemed Bingley’s reserved friend was less aloof than he would be in London. Bingley would have to observe him more closely. Of course the likelihood of that when Miss Bennet was in the room was not very high.

  Bingley heard a tumult at the front door, causing him to abandon his thoughts. Mr and Mrs Bennet had arrived. “If we could proceed to the drawing room, tea will be served there.”

  * * *

  They found the Bennets still in the front entryway. Darcy had little patience for the greetings and exclamations that occurred. He only wanted to return to the drawing room to make sure Miss Elizabeth was well—or as well as could be expected. But on and on Mrs Bennet’s fussing went. Mr Collins’s theatrics only added to the uproar. Mr Bennet immediately sought out Mr Jones and no doubt heard the prognosis, so he was no help in containing his wife. Finally, the servants arrived in the hallway with the tea things, forcing the group to move into the drawing room.

  Miss Elizabeth still sat on the settee, her complexion returned to its rosy hue. Immediately after her injury, she had been pale and clammy. Later, during the walk to Netherfield—he dare not think too much about how she felt in his arms—she had been flushed. Though her colour looked better now, she still wore an anxious expression. When Mr Collins entered the room, she reached for Miss Bennet’s hand. Even with her injury, Elizabeth remained chiefly concerned for her elder sister’s future. She would not wish to be separated from her for even one night while Mr Collins was still at Longbourn. That worry, at least, would soon be soothed.