Page 11 of Obligation and Redemption

“I am in earnest,” Elizabeth replied with a slight giggle.

She realised how preposterous the whole story sounded.

“Poor Mr. Darcy missed the entire adventure, as he was quite incognisant of his surroundings, which is good for him. He would have been quite put out after our rather unseemly trek across the woody countryside!”

“I cannot believe that you were able to move him so far. No wonder you are tired. But how is Mr. Darcy?”

“Actually, I was beginning to worry about him until he roused enough to speak to me, but that was when things really declined.” At Jane’s puzzled look, Elizabeth smiled and then continued.

“I am being ungenerous. Mr. Darcy was in a sorry state. Every time he sat up, he would get light-headed and lose his stomach. At first, he would only stir periodically, but he did improve. In fact, we were having delightful conversations by the time Papa arrived. ”

“Lizzy….”

“Jane, he will be fine. Remember when I was fifteen and fell out of the tree? Within a week I was back outside. Truly, he will be well. When we left, he was negotiating with the servants to keep quiet about finding us alone together, after he charged my father to relent and not force a marriage, as if Papa would be so mercenary. Believe me when I say, Mr. Darcy will recover, no doubt sooner than he deserves.”

“Lizzy, Mr. Darcy is not all that bad. Mr. Bingley thinks so highly of him. Surely, they would not be such close friends if Mr. Darcy were undeserving. Perhaps the injury to his head caused him to say things he would not normally say. You know when you fell out of the tree, you were quite unkind for the first two days.”

“Jane, if it makes you feel better, I will try to only think charitable thoughts about the man. I am certain that I would not be so offended by his pride, had he not so completely mortified my own. See, is that not better?”

“But Lizzy, what was that you said about forcing a marriage? Surely you do not want to marry the man. That could not happen, could it? You dislike him so. It would grieve me to know that you would be pushed into matrimony with a man whom you could not love. Papa would never make you marry, if it were not your wish.”

“Papa has already told me that he has no wish to force an alliance with Mr. Darcy. He dislikes him as much as I. You know Papa could not condone a man who would offend one of his daughters. He does have his own ration of pride, you know.”

“Still, Lizzy, what if someone finds out and rumours begin to circulate? Would Papa not be compelled to make Mr. Darcy marry you?” At Elizabeth’s frown, Jane added, “I am sure it will not come to that. Who was with Papa anyway, Lizzy?”

“Mr. Bingley and two of his footmen.”

“His servants were with him?”

“Do not worry yourself overly concerning that. Mr. Darcy was prepared to pay quite well for the two to keep silent, and Mr. Bingley threatened their release from service without a referral. So you see, no one would have a desire to disseminate the event of our compromising situation. Everyone would lose and no one could win in such event.” Elizabeth finished this with a feigned cheerful smile, which Jane knew was born out of fatigue and a desire to end the discussion.

“You need your rest. I will leave you and let you get some sleep.”

“Thank you, Jane. I admit that I am finding it difficult to continue our conversation feeling the way I do. I need to lie down before eating anything, but let Mama know that I will be down for supper later.” So Jane left, and Elizabeth crawled under the counterpane for some much needed rest. Elizabeth did not actually make it down for supper that evening, nor breakfast the next day.

The events of that morning and afternoon had worn on her usual excellent health, and she was unequal to any activity beyond slumber .

The next morning, Jane became worried about her sister.

Not only had Elizabeth not made it downstairs for supper, but she had also developed a fever, which was quite irregular for the usually robust, young woman.

The convenience of such an illness, however, spared Elizabeth from her mother’s reproofs, but such an advantage came at a heavy price, as Elizabeth felt the full misery of an untreated ailment.

Elizabeth slept most of the day while Jane sat by her side, ready to offer a glass of water or some broth when she might awaken, but she woke little.

When Elizabeth did arouse, she expressed her apologies for causing Jane such worry.

She noticed the strain on Jane’s features while she gently reapplied a cooling cloth to Elizabeth’s face and neck.

“Jane, you must be as tired as I. Please, do not distress yourself about me. This is but a trifling cold, I can assure you. All I need is a little more rest, which will not come easily if I am concerned about you.”

“I always suspected you would make a poor patient, Lizzy. Now, you will let me repay you for all of your kindnesses shown to me in my many past illnesses.” Elizabeth was too tired to argue, but wondered if her mother had made her way up to the sickroom while she slept, or if she were even concerned about her, as she most assuredly would be if Jane or Lydia were ill.

Mrs. Bennet had made her opinion concerning each of her daughters quite clear, having no means to curb her own tongue.

Elizabeth had long ago learnt to accept her mother’s criticisms with grace, knowing that while she was her mother’s least favourite daughter, she was her father’s most cherished.

What Elizabeth had not realised was that her mother had indeed come to her room to check on her, mainly to give Jane the break and rest she needed in order to look her best. Mrs. Bennet did not want Jane to become ill herself or to have tired eyes should Miss Bingley or Mr. Bingley call upon the family.

Jane would never have left Elizabeth, had she known that her fever would intensify, and certainly would not have left her in the negligent care of her mother.

Elizabeth had seemed to be resting comfortably, so their mother was taken off guard when her sick daughter began tossing in her sleep in a fevered sweat.

Mrs. Bennet was about to call for Hill to take over, when Elizabeth began mumbling.

At first, her mother paid no heed to the ramblings, but then heard the name Mr. Darcy and something about marriage.

Elizabeth had tears falling down her cheeks.

Her mother leaned in close and said, “Lizzy, what are you babbling about? Why would you marry that odious man?”

Elizabeth had been dreaming in her sick-induced state, imagining that Mr. Darcy had not spurned her presence.

“Mr. Darcy… alone with you.” Then there were more indistinct words.

“Papa, I had to help him. It was my fault.” Her mother began listening quite intently when Elizabeth then said the words, “marry him,” and was shocked at what she heard.

Mrs. Bennet was constantly occupied with the task of marrying off her five daughters.

She had been distracted by the arrival of Mr. Collins and her plans to bring about a marriage between him and Elizabeth.

She wanted Mr. Bingley for Jane, and Mr. Collins was quite good enough for her second oldest daughter.

Although Elizabeth may not have been her favourite, her mother had to concede that she was the most intelligent of her five daughters and would make a fine mistress of Longbourn some day.

Her plans were abruptly changed when Mr. Collins began paying special attention to her least beautiful daughter, Mary.

She truly did not much care which of her daughters he married, as long as it was one of them, and not Jane or Lydia .

She could not have sacrificed them to a man whose only virtue was his future inheritance.

Listening to Elizabeth’s stammering, her mind whirled.

Was Elizabeth with Mr. Darcy during that awful storm?

But Mr. Bennet said she had been stuck in that old folly.

Could they have been in the folly together?

How romantic! A big smile spread across her face.

That clever girl! I knew she was not made to be so sly for nothing.

Mrs. Bennet giggled to herself. Wait until I tell Sister.

But, alas, she could in fact not wait, so Mrs. Bennet put down the cooling cloth, checked herself in the mirror and set off without delay for Meryton where Mrs. Philips resided, leaving Elizabeth feverish and alone in her sickbed, unaware that the course of her life had just changed.