Page 38 of Moments Frozen in Time (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
DARCY
A ll eyes were fixed on Miss Bingley—until, to my astonishment, she fainted outright.
I had expected a theatrical display, a calculated bid for attention or sympathy.
But when she crumpled to the floor without so much as a dramatic gasp or flutter of lashes, I realised, to my dismay, that she was truly unconscious.
It was not concern for Miss Bingley’s wellbeing that gripped me—it was the unsettling awareness that she might be the only one who knew exactly where Elizabeth was. If she could not speak… if something serious had befallen her… I might have lost my best chance of finding the woman I loved.
Gasps rippled through the gathered crowd as Mr. Jones, the apothecary, hurried forward, gently pushing past those nearest to get to her.
Mr. Bingley stood frozen nearby, clearly at a loss, whilst Mrs. Hurst had dropped to her knees beside her sister, fumbling with trembling hands to provide what assistance she could.
Her pallor suggested she was likely to faint herself, but still, she did her best to aid her sister in these odd circumstances .
Mr. Jones knelt and began a brisk examination, checking her pulse and lifting each eyelid in turn. After a few tense moments, he looked up.
“She has swooned,” he confirmed, speaking gravely as he looked at the lady’s brother.
“But I am concerned that she has not regained consciousness. To be frank, I expected a display—hysterics, perhaps, or pretended weakness—but she does not so much as twitch when I pinch her, nor react to any other stimulus, including the aromatic ammonia that has been placed under her nose. There’s no voluntary or involuntary response at all, and that troubles me. ”
He looked to the footmen. “She needs to be carried to her room at once, where I can complete a more thorough examination.”
Several of the footmen stepped forward to assist, lifting Miss Bingley carefully as the crowd began to part, murmuring amongst themselves, shock giving way to speculation and unease.
Bingley continued to stand there, frozen in place, unable to speak after all had been revealed in the last half hour.
His face was ashen, his eyes darting between his unconscious sister and the guests who now whispered furiously behind gloved hands and fans.
I noticed the Bennet sisters gathered together on one side of the room with a few of their friends, looking at their parents in disgust.
“Bingley,” I said quietly, stepping beside him. “You must say something—to thank your guests for coming and to ask them to return home. The ball cannot continue after all of this.”
He blinked and looked at me as though emerging from a fog. “Yes… yes, of course,” he murmured. Drawing in a deep breath, he turned to face the assembled guests, who fell silent as he raised his voice.
“My friends, I thank you for joining us this evening,” he said, his voice steadying with obvious effort.
“However, due to… an unexpected family emergency, I must ask that we end the evening here. I regret the abrupt conclusion to what should have been a joyful night, but I trust you understand that we have other matters to deal with. ”
There was a murmuring of polite assent, although several guests cast lingering, uneasy glances towards the door through which Miss Bingley had been carried, their expressions marked with suspicion and distaste.
The Misses Bennet stood huddled together, shock plain on their faces at what had been revealed.
It was clear from their posture, particularly that of Miss Lydia, that they wanted little to do with their parents at that moment.
Bingley turned to me, his voice low and tight with anxiety. “What do we do now?” he asked. “Darcy… what if she truly does know where Miss Elizabeth is—and she cannot tell us? What if she does not recover?”
“Then we will find someone else who can,” I said, my tone grim and resolute.
“I have no intention of letting this end here. If your sister cannot speak, I will uncover the truth by other means. I already have a man searching for Elizabeth—he has been following a trail north. And, it seems, Miss Lydia Bennet has a particular talent for eavesdropping. She has learnt more than anyone else in that household and has been sharing all she knows with me.”
Bingley gave a terse nod, his jaw clenched. “And you truly believe Caroline was involved in her disappearance?”
“I am certain of it,” I replied, meeting his eyes without flinching.
“The only question now is whether we can uncover the full extent of the plan before more time is lost. The Bennets should remain here after everyone else leaves. I doubt Miss Bennet and her sisters will wish to return home just now, and frankly, I am considering inviting all of them to Pemberley as guests of my sister—unless they would prefer to join their aunt and uncle in London.”
Bingley blinked in surprise. “Why would you do that? Why should this be your concern?”
“Because I am engaged to Miss Elizabeth,” I said plainly.
“I have kept it quiet, as her father refused to allow me to speak with him when I sought his permission. But I am determined to find her—and when I do, I will marry her without delay. If she is indeed in Scotland, as I suspect, I will not wait for formalities. I will marry her the moment she is found.”
Before anything more could be said, Miss Lydia stepped up beside me, her concern about the evening’s revelations clearly written on her face.
“Do you truly mean to take me and my sisters to Pemberley?” she asked, glancing towards her mother, who had dissolved into loud, dramatic sobs.
The display might have moved someone unfamiliar with Mrs. Bennet’s theatrics—but even I could see it for what it was: a calculated bid for sympathy after the night’s damning revelations.
“I do,” I replied steadily. “I leave for the north tomorrow. Whilst I had not intended to travel to Pemberley first, I believe your sister would understand the delay if it meant ensuring her sisters were delivered safely to my estate and away from your parents’ influence.”
“We will be ready,” Miss Lydia declared with a determined nod.
“At the very least, I shall be. Jane may feel obliged to stay behind, but I will convince Kitty and Mary to come north with me. None of us wish to remain under the same roof as Mr. Collins for a moment longer. Nor that of my parents, not after what has been revealed tonight.”
“Then allow me to speak to your father and make the necessary arrangements,” I told her. “After everything that has come to light this evening, I cannot imagine he would still refuse me. But if he does… I will see what else might be done.”
I had just turned to go when Mr. Collins bustled forward to intercept me, his countenance puffed up with an air of grave importance.
“I must protest most earnestly, Mr. Darcy,” he began, swelling with self-importance.
“I have this very day received a letter from your noble and most estimable aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and I am deeply distressed that you have disregarded not only her wise counsel but my own humble advice as well. Indeed, you appear to have acted in direct opposition to it! And now—now!—you boldly proclaim yourself engaged to my cousin Elizabeth, a notion I find utterly preposterous. Her mother, in the strictest confidence, has assured me this very evening that Elizabeth is wild, impertinent, and headstrong—wholly unfit to become the wife of a gentleman of your distinguished station.”
He straightened as though preparing to deliver a sermon. “Your dear cousin, Miss de Bourgh, is heartbroken by your shocking refusal of the match your aunt had so wisely planned. She, I must say, is the model of virtue, refinement, and proper decorum—the very sort of lady you ought to marry!”
“Enough, Mr. Collins,” I said sharply, my patience quite spent.
“Neither you nor my aunt has any claim to dictate whom I choose to marry, and I will no longer endure your unsolicited counsel. I have heard more than enough of your simpering nonsense for one evening. Kindly remove yourself—go as far from me as you are able—for I have no wish to hear another word of your tiresome drivel.”
Indignant, Mr. Collins scurried off, sputtering about my “unparalleled temerity” in disregarding both his wise counsel and the pronouncements of my aunt. I spared him not a single thought. Instead, I crossed the room towards Mr. Bennet.
“Well, Mr. Darcy,” he said drily as I approached, “what an interesting evening this has turned out to be.”
I narrowed my eyes at the man—gentleman though he might be in title—who could respond to the night’s revelations with such glib detachment.
“Mr. Bennet,” I began, struggling to suppress the fury still churning within me, “I have come to make you an offer. It has become painfully clear that you care very little for the wellbeing of your daughters. Therefore, I ask that you relinquish guardianship of them into my care.”
His brows rose, but I pressed on.
“As you may have heard, I am engaged to Elizabeth. I intend to find her—and no matter her condition or situation, I will marry her. Your indifference and inaction have cost her dearly, but I will not let it cost her sisters as well.”
I stepped closer, lowering my voice to ensure only he heard.
“I will take them to Pemberley as guests of my sister, who is near in age to your youngest. They will receive a proper education, and they will be protected there. I will provide dowries for each of them when they marry—or, if they do not, they shall have enough to live in comfort for the rest of their lives.”
Mr. Bennet regarded me with a faint sneer. “And why, Mr. Darcy, would you do such a thing?”
“Because I love Elizabeth,” I said simply. “And I know she would never forgive me if I left her sisters in the care of a father who is indifferent and a mother who thinks only of herself.”