Page 31 of Out of His Wits (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Pick them very carefully clean, and wash them thoroughly , and after washing, look them over

carefully again; quarter them if you please, if they are very large. Put them into a saucepan

with plenty of boiling water; if any scum rises, take it off, put a large spoonful of salt into the

saucepan, and boil them till the stalks feel tender. A young cabbage will take about twenty minutes ,

when full grown, half an hour: see that they are well covered with water all the time, and that no

smoke or dirt arises from stirring the fire . By this management, they will look as beautiful when

dressed, as they did when growing . [7]

E lizabeth emerged from the cottage with her thoughts in considerable turmoil.

Tibby’s account had confirmed her suspicions about Bet whilst revealing something rather more troubling—the involvement of a man who had orchestrated the entire affair.

She was eager to discuss this development with Mr. Darcy.

Mrs. Morrison insisted upon pressing an enormous cabbage from her garden upon them, though Elizabeth noted with some amusement that the woman’s eyes remained fixed upon Mr. Darcy as she made the presentation, her cheeks rather more flushed than the bright sunlight alone could explain.

The children clustered around Mr. Darcy reluctant to see him depart, and Elizabeth was amused as the youngest boy tugged at his coat to demand one last demonstration of his impressive height.

Darcy lifted the boy up onto his shoulders for a moment, causing an unrestrained expression of glee.

“You have been most generous, sir,” Mrs. Morrison said, addressing Darcy with the sort of reverent gratitude reserved for visiting nobility. “Such condescension from a gentleman of your consequence — we shall not soon forget it.”

“It has been my pleasure entirely,” Darcy replied with gravity that seemed to please his hostess immensely. “Your daughter is a credit to your family, Mrs. Morrison. She has nothing to fear in speaking the truth.”

As they took their leave and began the walk back towards the main road, Darcy again took the basket, now containing the impressively large cabbage. The summer air was warm, and their steps quickened as they faced a lengthy walk in the strong sun.

“I trust your conversation with Miss Morrison proved instructive?” Darcy inquired once they were at a suitable distance from the cottage.

“A most illuminating tale,” Elizabeth replied, her voice tight with indignation. “In sum, Bet has indeed used that poor girl most shamefully, but she was not acting alone.”

She recounted Tibby’s story methodically, watching Darcy’s expression grow increasingly grave as she detailed Bet’s manipulation and her romance with a ‘gentleman.’

“A gentleman?” Darcy repeated when she finished, his voice carrying a strange quality she had not heard before. “You are certain of this?”

“Tibby was quite definite on the point. According to her account, this gentleman directed Bet to the specific mushrooms and gave detailed instructions about how to ensure they would be undetected in preparation.” Elizabeth glanced at him curiously.

“Since then, Tibby said, Bet has become quite fierce and refuses to speak of him at all.”

“Did Tibby provide any description of this man?”

“Handsome, she said. Blonde hair, finely dressed to her eye. She found something unsettling in his manner. His eyes, she said, did not match his smile.”

“Did Miss Tibby have a name for him?”

“A Mr. George Wilkins, I believe.”

Darcy had stopped walking entirely, his face pale beneath his hat.

Elizabeth studied Darcy’s frozen expression with growing concern. “Mr. Darcy, you look as though you have seen a spectre. Do you know of such a person?”

He did not immediately respond. Then, with visible effort, he resumed walking, though his pace had become considerably more agitated.

“There is someone of my acquaintance who fits such a description. He does not go by that name, but one remarkably similar. He would have both the knowledge to identify dangerous fungi and the motivation to use them against… those at Netherfield.”

“Someone with a particular grievance against the Bingleys?”

“Not the Bingleys, no. But there is someone who has gone to very great lengths to cause harm to me and those dear to me.” His jaw tightened. “I hesitate to make accusations without more substantial proof. It is more a suspicion than anything I could prove.”

From his stern expression and rigid posture, Elizabeth sensed that Darcy was struggling with some internal debate. When he finally spoke again, his voice was carefully controlled.

“We must question Bet immediately,” he said. “If she can be induced to reveal more of this gentleman’s true identity, we may be able to prove not only Tibby’s innocence, but the deliberate nature of the scheme.”

“I agree entirely. I suspect she will not give up her information easily. She has already shown considerable skill in deception.”

“Then we must be cleverer than she,” Darcy replied grimly. “Perhaps when she understands that her precious suitor has abandoned her to face the consequences of her actions alone, she might be persuaded to speak more freely.”

As they approached the place where the tree had fallen, Elizabeth was relieved to see that the road had been cleared. The workers had departed, leaving only scattered sawdust and wood chips to mark their efforts.

“Thank goodness,” she said. “I am eager to return to Longbourn and plan our next steps.”

Darcy nodded absently, but his attention seemed divided. Several times during their continued walk, she caught him glancing at her with an expression of such intensity that it made her pulse quicken uncomfortably.

“I fear I must raise another topic,” he said at length. Then he stopped, seeming to gather his resolve.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat. His face had taken on a dusky hue. “The investigation is not the only subject that requires discussion between us.”

Elizabeth’s heart gave an uncomfortable leap. She had hoped the revelations about Tibby might provide sufficient distraction to avoid this very conversation, but apparently Mr. Darcy’s determination was not so easily deterred.

“I am uncertain what you mean,” she said carefully, although she was perfectly certain indeed.

“Miss Elizabeth, we can no longer remain silent upon what passed between us in the music room.”

The directness of his words left her momentarily speechless. She had been dreading this moment even as she anticipated it. She had not succeeded in putting it off, and now that it had arrived, she felt entirely unprepared.

“Mr. Darcy,” she began. He pressed on before she could finish. Not that she truly knew what she might say to deflect his intentions.

“I must know what I said to you that evening. What I may have done. Whether I have behaved towards you in any manner that my honour requires I rectify.”

The word ‘rectify’ sent a shock through her system. The thought that he might feel compelled to offer for her out of duty was wholly unbearable. She would marry for love- never for mere obligation, never for worldly advantage.

“You were not yourself that evening,” she said quietly. “Whatever occurred resulted from illness, nothing more.”

“But something did occur,” he pressed. “I see it in your countenance, Miss Elizabeth. You remember what I cannot, and my uncertainty is insupportable.”

She forced herself to remain composed. “Perhaps some recollections are better left undisturbed.”

His jaw tightened at her evasion. “No. I cannot accept that. I must know the truth of it. Miss Elizabeth, I vow I shall not rest until this matter is set aright between us.”

Elizabeth said nothing. She wished neither to embarrass him by disclosing his unguarded conduct, nor to create further awkwardness between them.

They walked in silence for some time, the tension between them growing more pronounced with each step. Elizabeth was acutely aware of his presence beside her, and of the way he glanced in her direction as though gathering courage for another attempt at conversation.

As they reached a familiar bend in the lane, still some distance from Longbourn, Darcy could contain himself no longer. He stopped walking, and she turned to him.

“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, his voice carefully controlled, “I cannot continue in this uncertainty. I beg you to tell me what occurred between us that evening.”

“Mr. Darcy, I have already said—”

“You have said nothing of substance,” he interrupted, his composure beginning to crack.

“You speak in generalities whilst I am tormented by what may be no more than delusion. I have vague recollections that haunt me. From my fragments of memory and from your uneasiness, I am convinced there is more to be told. Whatever occurred, I must know the truth. It would be a kindness if you would but relieve the turmoil of my thoughts.”

Elizabeth’s resolve wavered under the intensity of his regard. “I fear it would only cause you further distress, Mr. Darcy.”

The softest groan escaped him. He scrubbed his hand over his face.

“Perhaps,” he said quietly, “but the uncertainty is far worse. I entreat you, Miss Elizabeth. If I behaved in any manner unbecoming a gentleman, if I uttered words a man ought never speak to an unmarried lady, I must be told.”

She remained silent, her eyes fixed on the path ahead.

“Mr. Darcy, you were not in your right mind—”

“What did I say?” he repeated with quiet desperation.

Elizabeth hesitated, reluctant to continue.

“Please,” he said simply.

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “You said that you admired me.”

Darcy’s brows shot up. He fixed her with a penetrating stare. “That is all?” he asked. His tone suggested he already knew it was not. Darcy had stopped, his face a mask of agony.

Elizabeth moved to resume walking, but he gently arrested her by his hand upon her sleeve.