Page 10 of Done for the Best (Engaged to Mr Darcy #5)

CHAPTER TEN

ARGUMENTS AND ABSTINENCE

A letter had come from Jane at Longbourn containing news that was mightily dissatisfying to Mrs Bennet. Mr Bingley had purchased Netherfield Park for his permanent home, but there was no indication that he meant to live there anytime soon. Mrs Bennet found this exceedingly odd behaviour, and Jane had been cast into despair anew over it.

“What does this man mean, buying a place and then not living in it?” Mrs Bennet demanded angrily of Elizabeth and Charlotte over breakfast. “If he wishes to settle down, then he ought to settle down!”

Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Charlotte. An earlier conversation between them had revealed to Elizabeth that Mr Bingley was quite young; furthermore, Charlotte believed he had taken Netherfield, at least initially, not as any great foray into land ownership, but as a place to entertain his friends with fishing, shooting, balls, and parties. His purchase might have been nothing more than a sound investment and to his credit in Society. One could not truly be part of the landed gentry without, well, land , and now Mr Bingley would have that. Nothing that Charlotte had told Elizabeth suggested that Mr Bingley was a man wishing to ‘settle down’.

Jane, on the other hand, very much wished to marry, and though she had not said so to her mother, Elizabeth wondered at her sister’s wisdom in placing hopes on a man so young, quite lately out of university.

“Perhaps he has pressing engagements elsewhere this summer,” Elizabeth suggested and then winced at her use of the word engagement.

Mrs Bennet huffed disgustedly. “I cannot say anything about that, but Lady Lucas says these young bucks make a dreadful scene in London, racing about in curricles, staying out all night drinking… I say, if that is what he wishes to do, then do it and leave Hertfordshire society out of it!”

It seemed to Elizabeth that was precisely what the gentleman was doing, but she did not offer the opinion.Without thinking too much of it, she mentioned, “Perhaps we might see him in London and speak to him directly of the matter.”

It was an idea that had been tossing about in Elizabeth’s mind of late. She longed to see her aunt and uncle Gardiner, having no recollection of recent visits, and she thought it might be interesting to see Darcy’s town house and meet his sister. If they could chase down Mr Bingley while they were at it, so much the better!

“London?” Mrs Bennet looked interested. “I confess I had not thought of it.”

“We might stay with my uncle, perhaps even shop a little.”

“Eliza, you cannot be thinking of gadding about London, surely,” Charlotte said, her eyes on a piece of toast she was buttering. “You are not nearly healthy enough for such exertions. You must remain here for a few weeks more, at least.”

A few weeks more? It had been above a month since Elizabeth’s injury, and from what she understood, she had been in Kent for a month prior to that. Much as she appreciated all Charlotte had done for her, she longed to be somewhere else. “Surely we have imposed on your hospitality long enough, Charlotte.”

“You have done too much, my dear,” Mrs Bennet agreed.

Charlotte looked up with an unexpected countenance; there was almost—disappointment?—in her eyes. Elizabeth could understand it, somewhat. She imagined that Charlotte’s life, when she did not have visitors, was difficult. Mr Collins had been good to her, but he was a foolish man, and Lady Catherine, from what she had heard, was overbearing and officious. Her ladyship had gone away in a pique due to Miss de Bourgh’s engagement and no one, not even Miss de Bourgh, seemed to repine her absence.

But Elizabeth could not remain in Kent just to entertain her friend. These days she felt as though the walls of the cosy parsonage were closing in around her—days on which she was impatient to resume the life she had had and learn more about what she had ‘missed’. She wished to know Darcy better, understand the man he was within his own sphere, not in this place where he, too, was a visitor. She tired easily, yes, but otherwise what was to stop her?

“I am not thinking of gadding about London,” she conceded. “But I have wedding preparations to see to, do I not? A trousseau to amass, things of that nature?”

She had her mother’s attention. Mrs Bennet had a gleam in her eye as she said, “Oh yes! For the bride of such a great man as Mr Darcy…well, your wedding gown alone!” She quickly rose from the table. “I am going to go and send word to Dr Hughes. Let us summon him here and see when he thinks Lizzy will be fit for travel.”

Charlotte’s look had gone from mere disappointment to a shocked sort of hurt. “You surely do not mean to leave so hastily?”

“We must!” Mrs Bennet cried out, already half out of the room. “’Tis the Season, all the modistes will be busy, the fabrics half gone! These grand ladies get a new gown every day; we will be fortunate to find anything!”

After the door closed behind Mrs Bennet, there was a strained silence. With an uneasy chuckle, Elizabeth said, “Oh dear, what have I done? She will have me at every warehouse in London, just to make sure my gown is fine enough.”

Charlotte did not laugh. “You do mean to marry him, then?”

“Yes, of course, I do,” Elizabeth replied, thinking what a peculiar question it was. “I would be a strange creature to be engaged to a man without meaning to marry him, would I not?”

“I should have asked whether you meant to marry him soon ,” Charlotte said.

Elizabeth shrugged. “I really cannot say. We have never actually discussed a date.”

“I think you ought to take some time. You scarcely know him.”

“I know him enough.”

“Do you, though?”

“And did you know Mr Collins so well when you married him?”

Charlotte laid her hand over Elizabeth’s, a pacifying gesture that was mightily exasperating. “No, I did not. But that was a different circumstance. I was not ill or addled?—”

Elizabeth fought the urge to yank her hand away. “And neither am I,” she shot back.

“Yes, you are, and I think it would be foolish of you to bind yourself to someone you cannot remember half the time!”

“Is this because he is so wealthy?”

Charlotte looked as if she had been slapped. “Of course not. I am satisfied with my own choices and only wish to see that you do not regret yours.”

“Why should I regret being married to a handsome, charming gentleman who seems, in every way, to suit me?”

“That is often the trouble with regrets—they are unanticipated. I just think you ought to take your time and not be rushing off to London and rushing into marriage.”

“I thank you for your advice.” Elizabeth rose to her feet. Tears threatened, but she hoped to restrain them. “Pray, summon me when Dr Hughes arrives.”

“Ate up with jealousy,” Mrs Bennet pronounced minutes later.

“I cannot think that is true,” Elizabeth replied. It was not generally her custom to go to her mother when she was distressed, but Mrs Bennet had come upon her while she wept angry tears in her bedchamber and demanded explanation.

“Lizzy, Mr Darcy is a very great man. Charlotte will not be the first to show jealousy towards you for securing him.”

“But she seemed to think it foolish of me to move ahead with wedding plans and the like.” Elizabeth sighed and wiped her eyes. “I suppose if nothing else I ought to get Papa’s permission before too much else happens. You have said nothing of any of this to him?”

“It is Mr Darcy’s place to go to your father, not mine.” Mrs Bennet sniffed. “But yes, I daresay it would be the right thing. Have your father sign the articles and whatnot. But…I have had more reasons than only that to keep the news from our neighbours.”

“What do you mean?”

“I confess that I have had some concern,” said Mrs Bennet carefully, “that he might not remain true.”

“You thought he might jilt me?” Elizabeth threw up her hands. “Does Charlotte think so too?”

“I do not think it now ,” said Mrs Bennet. “I only feared what might happen, in the beginning, when you were not yourself. I merely asked Charlotte to not write to her mother about it because you know how that is. I declare there is no woman I know with less to do with her time than Lady Lucas. She would see you ruined?—”

“Then you did think he might throw me over,” Elizabeth concluded angrily.

“No, no,” said Mrs Bennet. “But I have seen these things go off for far less reason than…” She made a swirling gesture encompassing Elizabeth’s head.

“I am not mad, Mama, nor am I suddenly an imbecile.”

“I know, and Mr Darcy does as well. And I confess, no matter how often I have tested him?—”

“Tested him!”

“Talking of wedding plans. I thought, if he is going to jilt my girl, let him understand her family has expectations of him. But he has not seemed in any way bothered; indeed, he seems quite willing to make plans.” Mrs Bennet giggled girlishly and then said, “Oh my dear Lizzy, how great you will be! The carriages you shall have, the pin money!”

“But do you think he loves me?”

“Anyone with eyes in their head can see that the pair of you are exceedingly well matched.”

“Do you think so because of these last weeks? Or did you suspect something in Hertfordshire as well?”

Mrs Bennet pursed her lips, seeming to consider that. Then, very assuredly, she said, “I have known it since the very beginning!”

“The very beginning? Was that not the assembly where he insulted us all by refusing the introduction?”

Mrs Bennet waved that aside. “The next time, then. No one cares about that silly assembly nonsense! The point is that he showed you clear preference in Hertfordshire—you were the only lady he asked to dance at Mr Bingley’s ball, you know.”

“So I have heard. And yet, did not Mr Collins propose to me the very next day? How did he not see it?”

“In case you have not noticed, my dear…” Mrs Bennet made a great show of looking round the room, even though they were in Elizabeth’s guest bedroom with the door securely closed. “Mr Collins is an idiot.”

Elizabeth giggled, delighted by her mother’s irreverent jest. She could not be easy knowing that everyone around them was just watching to see them falter, but she supposed it must be some relief to know that her attachment to Darcy was not the work of a moment. She knew him well enough, and he was proving true to her. She just did not remember it all very well. Hang Charlotte and her opinions!

It was a surprise to Darcy to find Dr Hughes in the parsonage when he called and still greater a surprise to find the ladies making plans to depart for London. Not an unwelcome surprise, for he would far rather be in London than to spend more time in Kent. Pleasant images of walking in the park with Elizabeth, showing her Darcy House, introducing her to Georgiana, quite carried him away. He stood at the parlour window, gazing out and allowing such happy notions to carry him away right up until Elizabeth entered the room, clear evidence of tear stains on her face.

“Darling, what is it?” he asked, the endearment slipping easily from his lips.

“Nothing. I am only tired of being ill—or rather being treated as though I were ill or mad or a child or…or anything like that.” Elizabeth sighed heavily and then, without pause, thrust herself into his arms. She laid her head against his chest and fell silent.

He had carefully eschewed such forms of physical contact with her, not wishing to do anything that would constitute taking liberties, not wanting to provoke his own desires, which were scarcely containable as it was. But she did this , he reminded himself. Not I. Even as he thought it, he allowed one hand to slowly rub her back.

No different from the way I would soothe Georgiana. Then again, Georgiana is my relation. I would certainly not have caressed Elizabeth in this way a month ago. But it is still innocent. I am not kissing her, am I? I am not so much a libertine as that.

I must tell her. I must! Surely by now —he inhaled deeply, drawing in the sweet warmth of her— surely by now it will not signify? She sees now how I love her, how I respect her friends and family. She had laughed off his insult of her. Could not she also laugh at his dreadfully rendered proposal?

The sounds of Mrs Bennet bidding farewell to the physician pulled him reluctantly from his thoughts. “Excuse me,” he murmured into her hair. “I must speak to Dr Hughes.”

Elizabeth scoffed as she stepped away from him. “If you wrote down everything that man knows about medicine, you would still have two-thirds of the page left.”

He chuckled as he hurried from the room and down the hall to the front door. “Dr Hughes? A word, please.” Darcy strode rapidly towards the man, who had been about to enter his carriage.

“What may I do for you, Mr Darcy?” Dr Hughes stepped back from his carriage, turning towards him.

“Um.” Having gained the man’s attention, Darcy faltered, unsure how best to say what he wished to say. “You mentioned before that any shocks to Miss Bennet were to be avoided.”

The physician nodded gravely, then said, “I still do, most assuredly. Let us not shout halloo before we leave the woods, sir.”

Darcy furrowed his brow. “I have not the pleasure of understanding you.”

“I mean to say that Miss Bennet is not wholly out of danger just yet.”

“Do you think her well enough to travel?”

He sighed reluctantly. “She insists that she is, and her mother does not gainsay her. I cannot like these fits she seems to have.”

“Fits?” Darcy’s brow wrinkled. “How do you mean?”

“Laughing one moment, crying the next, restiveness. Excessively fearful of even the most commonplace treatments.”

“The leeches?” Darcy’s brow rose. “I do not think any gently bred lady greets the notion of leeches with equanimity.”

Dr Hughes inclined his head, conceding the point. “Be that as it may…I presume Miss Bennet was previously a sensible girl? Even-tempered?”

“Of course.”

“So these fits of ill-humour, bursts of tears or laughter… Uncommon, yes?”

“I do not think she is behaving in a manner inconsistent with the trial she is facing,” Darcy said. He had a suspicion that it was Mr Collins who reported that Elizabeth had ‘fits’. The man seemed to see a storm in every raindrop. “It is grievous indeed to feel yourself out of your wits, particularly for someone so clever.”

“Exactly,” Dr Hughes said warmly, to Darcy’s bemusement. “She is not yet herself, correct?”

“No, not yet.”

“Precisely.” Dr Hughes splayed his fingers across his waistcoat, no doubt imagining himself professorial. “Mr Darcy, a woman’s mind is not like a man’s. Her thoughts and feelings are…entwined in a manner that we may not wholly comprehend. But what I do know is that Miss Bennet is…at something of a crossroads. One path leads to health. The other may lead to hysteria, even madness. That road is one we wish to avoid, clearly.”

“I think that is coming it strong,” Darcy said with a frown.

“I hope it is,” Dr Hughes said, again surprising him by agreeing. “But that is a physician’s task, sir, to not only heal that which is ill, but to prevent potential illness ahead. I only want to see Miss Bennet restored to her former equanimity, as I am sure you do as well.”

To this Darcy had to nod.

“Was there something in particular you were concerned might shock her?” Dr Hughes drummed the fingers that still rested on his waistcoat, looking as though he meant to get some sort of confession from Darcy.

Wary, Darcy asked, “Nothing very particular, no.”

Giving Darcy a piercing look, the doctor said, “I understand that you and the young lady are engaged. When is the happy day?”

“We had not yet determined?—”

“You do not mean to jilt her, surely?”

“Good Lord!” Darcy exclaimed. “Of course not. Miss Bennet may name any day she chooses, as soon as she is well enough, and I shall be at the altar posthaste.”

Dr Hughes nodded. “Good, good. All this talk of shocks and concerns for her wits… She is a lovely young woman. I should not like to see her health endangered for the vagaries of a man.”

“You need have no concern there,” Darcy replied stiffly. “I would marry her yet today if it were possible.”

Dr Hughes smiled blandly. “I wish you the best, sir. And do not fear—she will be the lady you once knew soon enough, I am sure of it.”