Page 13
Story: Mr Darcy and the Suffragette
Darcy finished washing and towelled himself off. After sending his racing togs to the laundry, he dressed in linen trousers and jacket, clean white shirt, and because he was feeling so triumphant, a bow tie. Darcy heard a decisive rapping at the door.
“ Seems that I missed all the excitement, eh wot?” Col Fitzwilliam brushed past Darcy into the room. “You are quite the hero, cousin, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“ You would have done the same.” Darcy didn’t quite know how to reply.
“ Doubt that. Can’t swim, so there you have it.” Col Fitzwilliam put his hand on Darcy’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Really, good show.” Both men had nothing to say, then Darcy cleared his throat and broke the silence.
“ Let’s go see about Bingley. He must be dried off by now.”
They walked down the hall to Bingley’s room. After Darcy quietly knocked on the door, no reply came for a long moment. The two men looked at each other and Darcy began to feel uneasy. He was surprised when Bingley opened the door and seemed positively vigorous.
“ Oh, my dear fellows, come in, come in.” He pulled Darcy through the door.
Col Fitzwilliam followed and offered Darcy his hand.
Darcy took it. “Thank you, thank you ever so much. I’d like to thank Miss Bennet too.
If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened.
” Bingley turned back towards the mirror and began brushing back his hair.
“ And who is Miss Bennet?” Col Fitzwilliam raised his eyebrows and grinned into the mirror.
“ You know you can never breathe a word of Elizabeth Bennet’s part in your rescue… not a word. You either, Richard.” Darcy directed his sharpness at Bingley.
Bingley began to straighten his tie. “What? Whatever do you mean? I want to shout it from the rooftops.” Bingley’s jubilant expression reflected in the mirror.
“ I’m sure there are rumours all over the regatta already of a young woman who shed her clothes in order to dive in the Thames after you.”
“ Oh, for goodness’s sake. She didn’t shed all her clothes… and surely, no one will dwell on that.” He continued to scrutinise himself in the mirror.
“ Charles, look at me.” Darcy must have sounded more forceful than he expected as Bingley turned sharply to look at him. “You don’t know who the girl was. You never saw her before. Don’t tell anyone about her, not even your sister—”
“ You mean especially not my sister.” That remark elicited a guffaw from Col Fitzwilliam.
Darcy didn’t answer, but the expression on his face must have betrayed his concern. “Please, Charles. For my sake, don’t let on that you know her… Act as if she was some good-hearted lady whom you’ve never seen before, saw us in distress and risked her life and reputation to save you.”
Bingley sighed. “All right. If you think that’s necessary.”
“ I do… truly. And you, Fitzwilliam.”
Col Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his curly, sandy-coloured hair. “Oh, all right, Darcy, if you insist… I know nothing.”
Darcy glanced from one man to the other. “All right, then. Let’s go and join the others. It will soon be abundantly clear to you why you need to keep Miss Bennet’s identity a secret.”
Bingley was now dressed in a blue and white striped jacket and white trousers. He picked up a straw boater on his way out the door. Before they reached it, he stopped short. “Hold on, why did you say a few minutes ago that I shouldn’t speak of Miss Bennet for your sake ? What did you mean by that?”
Darcy cleared his throat. “Did I? Hmm. Probably meant to say for her sake .”
Bingley smiled knowingly. “Yes, I’m sure that’s what you meant to say.”
“ I do wish the two of you would tell me what is going on.” Col Fitzwilliam reached the door and held it open for them.
Moments later, they joined their fellow teammates in the hotel bar, and a buzz of conversation ceased with their entrance before their entire team erupted in cheers.
One of the chaps began “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” and the entire place burst into song.
It was most gratifying, but Darcy knew he must also quash anything vile or scandalous about Elizabeth and her part in Bingley’s rescue.
As the boys began slapping Bingley on the back, Darcy as well, each was handed a glass of whiskey.
Finally, the captain of the team, Teddie Dudley, asked the question.
“ All right, Bingley. Who was the girl?”
Bingley shot Darcy a look, then shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know.” He raised his glass in a toast. “Here’s to her, though.”
They all raised their glasses to toast the mysterious swimmer, but Dudley didn’t look satisfied. “Oh, come along, now. You must know her… or Darcy knows her. Why would she throw herself in the Thames after you?”
Darcy spoke up. “Perhaps she is one of those modern women who believe that they can do anything a man can do. I assure you… I don’t know her.”
Dudley turned to Bingley. Before he could speak, Fitzwilliam cut him off. “Don’t look at me, old chap. I wasn’t even there.”
Dudley directed his attention back to Darcy. “I think you’re right. One of those modern girls. Independent… Probably one of that Pankhurst crowd.”
“ Now there’s a thought.” Darcy took another sip of his whiskey.
“ Doesn’t matter, though. You did the rescuing. The lady just swam about in her underclothes.” The team all began to laugh. Darcy was furious, but he took a breath and then spoke.
“ I’d like to take all the credit…” He raised his glass to Charles. “But truth be told, I didn’t see Bingley under the boat. The lady found him.”
One of the other teammates slapped his shoulder. “You’re just saying that, the gentleman that you are.”
Darcy shook his head and raised his right hand. “On my honour, I’m not exaggerating. You see, gentleman, I was looking down towards the bottom of the river, and the lady had the sense to look up.”
The subject was now dropped in lieu of a more pressing one. Would Bingley race tomorrow? Without him, the team would have no hope of competing.
“ Well, of course, chaps,” Bingley said jauntily. Darcy, however, knew he was putting on a brave face. “I’ll race tomorrow, but you must all swear not to drop me in the drink.”
They all swore they would not amid laughter and a few more whiskeys. Sometime later, Darcy sought out Bingley in a quiet corner. “Are you sure you are up to it, Charles? I mean—”
“ Can’t let the chaps down, can I?” Bingley downed what was left in his glass with one gulp.
“ No, I suppose not. But I think we’ve all had enough for today and should retire early so that we’re ready for tomorrow. Oh, and by the by, as soon as this is over, I’m going to teach you to swim.”
With their departure, the gathering broke up in favour of a good night’s sleep. As Darcy, Bingley, and Col Fitzwilliam passed the front desk, the clerk called out.
“ Mr Bingley, a letter arrived for you.” Bingley took it and a great smile spread across his face on reading it.
“ I’ll take leave of you chaps. Good night.” He left Darcy and Fitzwilliam staring as he leapt up the stairs, the letter clutched in his hand.
***
Although they all retired early, sleep eluded Darcy.
He stared up at the ceiling for quite some time, and then found himself walking through a murky glade.
Blanket-thick fog rolled past in brownish waves.
A knocking sound filtered through, as if someone beat on a hollow log drum or a door to a cavernous room.
Then he floated and everything was blurred before a figure appeared ahead with its back to him.
He tried to walk but moved better if he kicked his legs and pushed the fog back with his arms. Up ahead, the figure floated.
Male… dressed in racing whites, standing very still, arms out.
Darcy was sure he was dead. As he got closer, he recognised Bingley.
Darcy struggled and struggled to reach him, but no matter how furious his movements, he made very little headway.
Panic seized him. He clawed his way over to Bingley, and when he finally reached him, he clutched his shoulders and turned the body around to face him. Only it wasn’t Bingley.
Elizabeth.
Elizabeth was dead in his arms.
He stifled a groan, yet the moment he let go—she opened her eyes.
Darcy sat up in bed, breathing hard, fast. Sweat plastered his nightclothes to his body.
Dreaming. He must have been dreaming.
Sitting still for a time, he let his breathing return to normal and then got out of bed and ran water over a cloth and put it on the back of his neck.
He wanted a whiskey but settled for a glass of water.
Finding the overstuffed chair that faced the window, he sat down heavily and watched the moon, wondering how Bingley and Elizabeth were sleeping that night. If only the race weren’t tomorrow.
Table of Contents
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- Page 13 (Reading here)
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