by K C Kahler
Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst began serving the tea as Mrs Bennet examined her daughter. “Oh Lizzy! What a fright you gave us all! You cannot imagine the apprehension we felt when Mr Collins returned in such a manner. And then he was so reluctant to tell us what had occurred, we feared something dreadful indeed!”
“I am sorry to have alarmed you, Mama.”
Motherly concern soon gave way to vexation. “How many times have I told you to watch where you are going? You’ve ruined all of our plans with your turned ankle. What a horrid inconvenience this must be for Mr Bingley!”
“Elizabeth has no consideration in her sprained ankles. She times them ill.” Mr Bennet stood near the door as he spoke, his expression unreadable. Darcy thought his humour inappropriate considering the situation.
Elizabeth replied as if her father had not spoken. “I am perfectly prepared to end the inconvenience and return home after tea.”
Bingley cleared his throat. “It is no inconvenience at all. Caroline and I would be honoured if Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet stayed as our guests. We would not want Miss Elizabeth to endure a rough carriage ride, and Miss Bennet’s presence will be a comfort to her, will it not?”
“Oh yes! I wish nothing more than to aid Lizzy during her recovery.” Miss Bennet beamed. “Thank you so much for the invitation, Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley.”
“It is our pleasure, I assure you. We are delighted at the thought of hosting you both. Is that not so, Caroline?”
Miss Bingley replied in the affirmative as she poured another cup of tea, adding, “I daresay we shall all make the best out of this unfortunate turn of events. Though how lucky for Miss Eliza that her injury occurred so near to Netherfield and amongst so many friends rather than on one of her many solitary walks.”
Elizabeth’s face was full of amusement, but Mrs Bennet did not seem to grasp Caroline’s implication. “Very lucky, indeed! I always object to her wandering off to who knows where. It is very fortunate you were with Mr Bingley, Lizzy.” Then she glanced between her injured daughter and Bingley. “Of course Elizabeth should not be moved, and we must trespass on your kindness for a time. I thank you again and again. How very good of you!”
Obviously, Miss Bingley was wasting her barbs on Mrs Bennet. Instead, she said with cold civility, “You may depend upon it, madam, that Miss Eliza will receive every possible attention while she remains with us.”
Mrs Bennet effused her thanks again, and then her eyes moved to her youngest daughter, who was giggling at some joke the ever-jolly Mr Jones had told. “Of course you are right that one of the girls should stay to help Lizzy. We cannot expect your household to take on such a responsibility. But, with our own guest”—Mrs Bennet motioned towards Mr Collins—“I’m afraid I cannot part with my two eldest daughters together. I require Jane at home.”
An awkward silence enveloped the room. Miss Elizabeth’s smile faded, and she flushed again, no doubt in mortification of her mother’s outrageous behaviour.
Miss Bennet spoke first. “But Mama, I wish to stay with Lizzy. You know how I shall worry for her if I do not.”
“You are a sweet girl to worry so about your sister. But really, I must have you at home. Why doesn’t Lydia stay here to care for Lizzy?” Mrs Bennet attempted to convince her audience that this idea had just now occurred to her. Darcy was astonished at the audacity of the woman. Bingley looked just as shocked, and Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst were clearly disgusted, whether at Mrs Bennet’s behaviour or at the idea of hosting Lydia Bennet as a guest, Darcy could not tell. Hurst continued to eat his tea cake, unmindful of the company.
“Oh yes! I shall stay and tend to Lizzy. What fun we shall have here at Netherfield!” Miss Lydia seemed delighted with the scheme.
Mr Bennet moved further into the room. “Not so hasty, Mrs Bennet. I believe Mr Bingley’s original invitation should stand. Lydia, you make a poor nursemaid. Jane is much better suited to the task. Mary, Kitty, and Lydia will do tolerably well entertaining our guest at home. It is high time they took on more responsibilities.” His sharp look at his youngest daughter, who had begun to protest, warned that she ought not contradict him. She snapped her mouth shut and pouted. Subtlety was not one of Miss Lydia’s strengths.
Mrs Bennet, the proverbial tree from which Miss Lydia’s apple fell, smiled tightly as she addressed her husband. “But you know how much I rely on Jane. And we cannot disappoint Mr Collins during his last days here in Hertfordshire by separating him from his favourite cousin.”
“You rely on Jane too much. Elizabeth needs her now.”
Mr Collins broke into the conversation with a smile and bow at the two eldest Bennet sisters. “Far be it from me to deprive poor Cousin Elizabeth of her dear sister’s care. I wish nothing but her complete comfort.”
Mr Bennet turned to Bingley. “Thank you, sir. I gratefully accept your invitation for Jane and Elizabeth.” Bingley nodded in acknowledgement.
“But Mr Bennet—”
“That is an end to the matter, Mrs Bennet. Now let us enjoy our tea.”
Miss Elizabeth’s eyes were shining at her father. She whispered, “Thank you, Papa.”
He moved to the settee, looking down on her with suspiciously moist eyes of his own. “My Lizzy, I only wish for your full recovery and your return to me happy and healthy.”
Darcy was mesmerised by the look she gave her father in response to this tacit apology. She positively glowed. This should have been a private moment between father and daughter, but Darcy could not look away. In her eyes, he saw unconditional love and acceptance. Despite all the faults of the man before her—which she seemed to understand better than anybody—and despite the pain he had caused her, Elizabeth loved and accepted Mr Bennet, and believed he could be a better person. Her look expressed all this. That kind of look inspired a man to improve himself, so that he would be worthy of such love. It was the kind of look Darcy desperately wished to receive from her himself.
Darcy caught his breath. He, Fitzwilliam Darcy, was in love with Elizabeth Bennet. He loved this witty, brave, lovely country miss. He nearly staggered backwards with the realisation of it. It was so obvious now; how could he not have protected himself? Almost from the very beginning, he should have avoided her rather than seek her out everywhere he went, rather than stupidly plunge himself deeper and deeper into this impossible attachment. Of course it was impossible. Had he not just witnessed how unacceptable her family was and what degradation such a connexion would be?
Darcy knew not how the rest of the visit passed. He scarcely heard a word exchanged. He knew there must have been arrangements made for the Miss Bennets’ clothes and such, but he was completely ignorant of them. Finally, Mr Jones, Mr Collins, and the rest of the Bennets took their leave. Darcy could not remember whether or not he bid them farewell.
Miss Bennet was saying something. “I think it would be best if we retired for the evening. Should we require it, we shall ring for some food to be brought to Lizzy’s room.”
“Yes, of course. Miss Elizabeth ought to rest now.” Bingley glanced at Darcy before settling his eyes on Miss Elizabeth. “Now, how shall we get you up to your room? That is the question.”
“Jane and I can manage.”
“Do not be ridiculous,” Bingley replied. “Mr Jones said you were not to attempt walking on it, and certainly not up a flight of stairs. You must be carried.”
She sighed. “Very well, call a strong servant then.”
“I shall see to it.” Miss Bingley moved towards the door.
“There is no need to call a servant. I shall transport Miss Elizabeth safely to her room.” Darcy could not help himself. He could not bear to think of her in another man’s arms, even those of a servant. She protested, naturally, as did Miss Bingley of course. But Darcy insisted. What folly!
So Darcy had the very great pleasure of scooping Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the woman he loved, into his arms and carrying her up Netherfield’s staircase. He deposited her in a chair in a guest room.
She blushed becomingly and thanked him without meeting his eyes. Miss Bennet was genuinely grateful for his assistance. He began to see she was always genuine—Miss Elizabeth’s regard for her elder sister was well-placed. He bowed to them both and wished them a good night.
As he left the room, Darcy thought about his predicament. How desperately he wanted to spend all of his time with her, to protect her, to make her happy. But he knew he could not. He resolved to distance himself from her. It seemed as if she no longer needed assistance in the matter of Mr Collins. Even if Mr Bennet had not redeemed himself today, Darcy was sure that the seed he had planted earlier in Collins’s head would soon take root. He would make sure of it, and then he would end his clandestine relationship with Miss Elizabeth. He had but a few days to drink his fill of her presence while she stayed at Netherfield. It would be all he allowed himself. Then, somehow, he would free himself of this most inconvenient attachment.
Darcy returned downstairs in search of some port. He believed his consumption would rival Hurst’s tonight.
Jane was delighted Elizabeth and her father had reconciled. She understood quite well the unspoken apology and acceptance in the drawing room. Not only that, but Mr Bennet had exerted himself to curtail his wife’s pursuit of sons-in-law. Jane could not remember him ever making such an effort. She now knew without a doubt that her father did not expect—nor secretly hope—she would marry Mr Collins. Of course he would never have asked her to do so outright, but Jane’s suspicion that he harboured the secret wish for her to solve the family’s problems by marrying Longbourn’s heir was one of the reasons she had been resigned to accepting her fate.
But all that was over now because of dear Lizzy’s courage, tenacity, and, sadly, her sprained ankle. No doubt Mr Bennet’s worry over Elizabeth’s welfare had partly caused him to relent in his stubbornness and resentment. When the sisters had discussed it over the course of their evening together, Elizabeth’s relief was palpable. How sorry Jane was for all the anxiety Lizzy had felt on her behalf! But, finally, it seemed that Jane, Elizabeth, and Mr Bennet were in agreement: Jane would not become Mrs Collins. Only Mrs Bennet would be disappointed in this new accord.
With the lifting of these weighty worries from Elizabeth’s shoulders and the boredom of being immobile, she began to tease Jane about a certain fair-haired gentleman. Apparently, Jane’s usual serene countenance failed her where Mr Bingley was concerned, at least to Elizabeth’s trained eyes. Jane thought at some point she must run out of blushes, but that point never seemed to arrive. When Lizzy insisted Jane at least spend mealtimes with the Bingleys and Hursts, Jane agreed, if only to escape the ceaseless teasing.
So Jane found herself sharing dinner with the Netherfield party on the day after Elizabeth’s injury. Mr Bingley’s manners were charming as ever. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst greeted Jane with much polite elegance. Mr Hurst wished her a good appetite.
Soon after they sat, Mr Bingley began, “We are delighted you have joined us, Miss Bennet! How fares your sister today?”
“Elizabeth is recovering as expected, but is already restless from being confined. She is not accustomed to idleness.”
“Indeed, it must be quite a change from cricket and country walking. Louisa and I wonder how she has time for any of the usual feminine accomplishments!” Miss Bingley and her sister tittered together before sobering. “But we do hope Miss Eliza is resting comfortably despite her injury.”
“She is. We are both so very grateful for your hospitality.”
Mr Bingley waved away her thanks. “And we are grateful to have you here with us. You are filling in quite nicely for an absent Darcy.”
“Yes, Charles, where is Mr Darcy? We missed him at breakfast today.”
“You never see him at breakfast, for he eats well before you arise. You could hardly have missed him then.”
“I am told he did not go for his usual ride this morning but stayed abed and rang for a tray.”
Mr Bingley laughed. “My, but you do keep an eye on his activities, Caroline.”
Miss Bingley looked none too pleased with her brother’s teasing. Jane could understand that sentiment today.
“Charles, it is unlike him, you must own. And now he misses dinner. Is he well? Perhaps he overexerted himself yesterday. Shall I have someone look in on him?”
Mr Hurst paused in his chewing and chuckled. “I suspect Darcy merely needed a day of peace and quiet. He was quite in his cups last night.”
Miss Bingley could not hide her shock. “Nonsense! I have never known Mr Darcy to be in his cups. You must be mistaken.” Mrs Hurst joined in her sister’s incredulity, both of them gaping at Mr Hurst.
He laughed again. “You certainly have a high opinion of the old chap. But every man overindulges on occasion, and Darcy is no different. He just hides it better than the rest of us. Last night, he was in rare form indeed. Not since the summer have I seen him in such a state, eh, Bingley?”
“Darcy would prefer not to have such matters discussed around the dinner table,” Mr Bingley replied.
Mr Hurst chuckled one last time but seemed content to return his full attention back to the meal. Jane had never heard him speak so much before—and on such a subject! In the wake of his unusual burst of words, the three Bingley siblings seemed to lack the ability to carry out a more conventional conversation. Mr Bingley kept glancing nervously at Jane, while Miss Bingley appeared quite out of sorts.
Jane broke the silence, “Mr Bingley, I wonder whether I might peruse your library for some suitable reading material for Elizabeth.”
“Of course! I shall take you to the library directly after dinner. I wish my collection of books were larger for Miss Elizabeth’s benefit and my own credit, but I am an idle fellow, and although I have not many, I have more than I ever look into.”
Now that all awkwardness was past, pleasant conversation resumed for the rest of the meal, chiefly through the efforts of Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. Their powers of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their acquaintances with spirit.
After dinner, Mr Bingley escorted Jane to the library. “I hope we find something to suit Miss Elizabeth. I must admit, I have shamefully neglected my library. Half these books were here when we moved in, and I have no idea what lurks on the upper shelves.”
“I think anything by Shakespeare would suit Lizzy.”
Mr Bingley looked thoughtful. “I may have one or two of the Bard’s plays here somewhere. Let me think.”
Mr Darcy appeared in the doorway. “Good evening.” Jane did not see any indication he had been inebriated the previous night. He looked as formal and polished as ever.
“Darcy! You have made an appearance at last. Caroline will be delighted.”
Mr Darcy pursed his lips. “Yes, well, I apologise for my absence today. I was behind on my correspondence. Miss Bennet, might I inquire after your sister?”
“I thank you, Mr Darcy. Elizabeth is doing well. She is frustrated with her forced inactivity, but otherwise, she is in good spirits. In fact, I am here seeking some distractions for her.”
He smiled. What a change that smile played upon his countenance! “Yes, I overheard your conversation. Since I am well aware of the deficiencies of Bingley’s library, I brought some of my own collection with me. I would be happy to loan a few books to Miss Elizabeth.”
“That is very kind of you.”
“Not at all. I shall return momentarily with a selection.” He seemed oddly excited as he strode out the doorway, and Jane wondered which works he would choose.
Mr Bingley chuckled. “Darcy to the rescue again. Upon my word, he is acting strangely lately.”
“Strangely? I have found him perfectly amiable. How is his behaviour out of the norm?”
“You see, he must be making an unusual effort, for very few people would describe Darcy as ‘amiable.’ He prefers a small group of friends who understand his reserved nature.
Yet he suggested calling on your family on Monday, and he suggested the walk yesterday as well. Those two outings were a departure for him—though a most welcome departure from my point of view.” Mr Bingley had come to stand directly before Jane during the course of this explanation. As he looked down at her with his clear blue eyes, which were now unusually serious, she quite forgot about Mr Darcy and his books.
“I…I greatly enjoyed them as well,” she stuttered before recovering herself. “It has been years since I took that particular route.”
“I had the impression Mr Collins was not familiar with the estate. Has he never asked to explore Longbourn’s grounds on his previous visits?”
“Mr Collins has never visited us before. Until about a fortnight ago, we had never set eyes on him.”
“You’ve known him only a fortnight?” Mr Bingley’s voice was raised in disbelief. “Forgive me, I mistakenly assumed he has been long acquainted with you…with your family, that is.”
“No, there was some quarrel between our fathers. He is as new an acquaintance to me as you are, Mr Bingley.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Jane could not look away, though modesty dictated she should. Mr Bingley was just about to speak again when Mr Darcy returned.
“How do you think Miss Elizabeth will like these, Miss Bennet?” He handed over four books and looked at her expectantly.
Taking a deep breath, Jane examined each of the titles. “Have you and my sister discussed literature, Mr Darcy?”
“I have not had that pleasure.”
“How extraordinary! It is as if you knew her tastes. I daresay not even Papa could have chosen better.” Mr Darcy’s face was again transformed with a smile, complete with those rare dimples. Jane held out the copy of Robinson Crusoe. “With John Lucas’s imminent return, Elizabeth will find this one appropriately nostalgic. It was one of the few books she could persuade him to read and discuss. She partly blames it for his adventure-seeking course in life.”
