Page 1 of Requirements for Love (Love in London with Mr Darcy #3)
Elizabeth Bennet huddled in her pelisse as she flexed her gloved fingers. Although it was neither snowing nor windy, it was still an icy January day in London.
“Ought we to have presumed on Jane’s friends and joined her in calling?” her aunt Gardiner asked. Elizabeth and her aunt did their best to stay warm in their hired carriage. “It might have been awkward since I do not know Miss Bingley, but at least we would have been warm inside.”
“Miss Bingley is not a true friend to Jane.” Elizabeth scoffed, frowning as the hackney driver walked the horses around Grosvenor Square as they waited for her sister.
“She left Hertfordshire without taking proper leave of Jane and wrote but a few lines to say she arrived in London. And those were full of praise for Miss Darcy, whom she hopes will marry her brother instead of Jane.”
Mrs Gardiner sighed. “I hope Jane does not expect to see this Mr Bingley. I brought her to town to distract her from her disappointment, not to encourage her. And I brought you to give you a little relief from your mother going on about how you refused Mr Collins.”
Elizabeth loved her aunt and uncle dearly and was glad for the chance to visit. She wanted to be of use to Jane while she recovered from her heartache—and she enjoyed not listening to her mother scold her for refusing to marry a conceited, pompous, narrow-minded man.
“I am happy to be here, although I hope to avoid the Bingleys.” If Elizabeth saw much of them, it was not impossible that she should encounter Mr Darcy, Bingley’s designing friend who had ruined her dear friend Wickham’s prospects.
“Given how Mr Darcy and Miss Bingley have treated Jane, I hope, for her sake, Miss Bingley drops the acquaintance.”
The whole of Wickham’s claims against Mr Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him, was enough to make anyone dislike Mr Darcy.
But now she suspected he and Miss Bingley had worked together to convince Bingley to give up Jane because she was neither rich nor grand.
Of course, Elizabeth had always known what a proud, disagreeable, and selfish man Mr Darcy was, from the moment Mr Darcy had taken a glance at her and declared her to be “tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt him.”
“You and your sister have been in town a week, and Jane has neither seen nor heard from Miss Bingley,” said her aunt. “I doubt she will even return her call.”
Before a quarter of an hour passed, the driver returned them to Mr Hurst’s townhouse and Jane carefully made her way across the icy pavement to the carriage.
“I do not think Caroline was in spirits” were her words when she climbed in. “She reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming to London. I was right, therefore; my last letter never reached her.”
“Did you inquire after Mr Bingley?” Elizabeth asked hesitantly.
“He is well, but so much engaged with Mr Darcy that they scarcely ever see him. I found that Miss Darcy was expected to dinner.” Jane’s voice dropped, and she looked away.
“Your visit was not long,” said Mrs Gardiner. “I expected to ask the driver to go round the square again.”
“Caroline and Mrs Hurst were going out. I dare say I shall soon see them in Gracechurch Street. ”
Mrs Gardiner shook her head at Jane’s hopeful tone. “I do not care for how this young lady has treated you. She was your particular friend all autumn and now treats you scarcely better than a stranger.”
“Anxiety for her brother must be the cause of it. She is persuaded he is partial to Miss Darcy and not to me.”
“I must speak plainly: you are not likely to see this young man, especially if his interest in you was the effect of a common and transient liking,” said Mrs Gardiner.
“He admired her,” Elizabeth said with a scowl, “but his sisters and his friend persuaded him to leave Hertfordshire. They all want Mr Bingley to marry Miss Darcy instead of Jane.”
“Well, if he is to be married soon to this Miss Darcy after encouraging Jane, he is a good-for-nothing fellow,” said her aunt.
Jane looked hurt, and Elizabeth’s heart was divided between concern for her sister and resentment against all the others who wounded her.
“Miss Bingley’s main reason for separating them,” Elizabeth said, “is because then she would have an easier time catching the brother for herself.”
Did Mr Darcy know Miss Bingley’s hopes? Of course he did.
He might be proud and selfish, but he was not stupid.
Elizabeth had seen Mr Darcy’s dislike of how Miss Bingley threw herself in his way while at Netherfield.
But that would not stop him from wanting Bingley to marry his own sister rather than Jane.
“But if he cared for Jane,” said Mrs Gardiner, “then he has a want of proper resolution for allowing his friends to influence him against her.”
Jane attempted to conquer her troubled feelings. “You should not speak against Mr Bingley. I have nothing to reproach him for.”
Mrs Gardiner patted Jane on the arm. “Let us see if I can tempt you with some delicacy at Gunter’s. I do not think sweets and ices can cure a disappointment in love, but they certainly help.”
“A little time is all I need,” Jane insisted.
“But candied fruits, cakes, and ices can help soothe romantic afflictions,” said Mrs Gardiner, smiling .
“We need not go, especially with your children at home with a cold.” With a stronger voice, Jane added, “It has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and done no harm to anyone but myself.”
“My dear Jane,” said Elizabeth, “you are too good. You make me feel guilty for wanting to indulge in treats, and all I had to suffer was an insulting proposal and a vexing mother.”
“Let your aunt spoil her nieces,” said Mrs Gardiner before calling to the driver to go to Gunter’s.
“If it were warmer, I would eat in the carriage, but I think we ought to go inside,” she said when the hackney stopped at the corner of Charles Street and Berkeley Square. “You must not tell my ill children that they missed out on the treat.”
They cautiously made their way across the crowded pavement covered in patches of ice.
Elizabeth stepped out last, and after the driver handed her down, a pair of young dandies walking and laughing strode past. One of them jostled her with his walking stick, and she stumbled, and a false step on a slick of ice brought her suddenly to the ground.
She cried out in surprise, and one man turned back, touched his hat, and said, “I beg your pardon,” and continued down the street.
Mrs Gardiner and Jane hurried to her side. With their help, Elizabeth raised herself from the ground, but her foot had been twisted in the fall, and she could scarcely stand. “Lizzy,” her aunt cried, “are you hurt?”
When she tripped, her foot rolled inward, and she had felt a sharp pain on the outer side of her right ankle. “I am well.” Elizabeth stepped toward the shop, but winced and lost her balance and staggered into her aunt. They might have both fallen had a stranger not steadied her arm.
“Forgive me, madam, but I saw the entire thing,” the man said. “Those two men ought to be ashamed of themselves for not staying to assist you. May I call your carriage?”
Elizabeth was too embarrassed by her situation to answer him. All of her traipsing about the country, and she had slipped in London in front of so many people .
“We would have to hire another hackney,” her aunt said, sounding alarmed, “but I am uncertain how she can climb into it if her foot is sprained or broken. I think we need someone with a cart so we can lift her onto the back.”
“My ankle will be perfectly well,” she insisted. “Perhaps I can just sit in the shop for a moment?”
She let go of the stranger’s arm and tried to put her weight on it again, but she winced and he adjusted his grip to keep her from falling.
“Madam, my cousin’s house is just there in Charles Street,” he said to Mrs Gardiner, pointing. “You can nearly see it from here. Allow me to carry the young lady there, and we can send for a surgeon.”
“Oh no!” Elizabeth cried. This was too mortifying. “It is not that bad.”
“Lizzy,” said Jane, “do not let your modesty decline what your situation clearly renders necessary.”
“We could not impose on your cousin,” said Mrs Gardiner. “But perhaps if you know someone with a cart who would return us to Gracechurch Street?”
“Neither my cousin nor I could call ourselves gentlemen if we were not of service to you,” he said earnestly. “And it is always best in these cases, you know, to have a surgeon’s opinion without loss of time.”
The stranger was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman. Mrs Gardiner looked at her, and Elizabeth knew she was going to agree. “Very well, we would be much obliged to you and your cousin, if you think he would be agreeable.”
The kind man gestured his intention to pick her up, but Elizabeth shrank back. “Surely there is another way to convey me to the house? I can lean on your arm and hop. You said it was not far.”
“I fear that would leave you rather sore and we would make slow progress. I promise your weight will not stagger me,” he said, smiling. “It is not half a furlong to the door.”
Her aunt and sister stared heavily at her, emphasising that this was unavoidable. Elizabeth forced a smile .
“By your leave?” he asked, and when she nodded, the stranger took her up in his arms.
It took only a moment to arrive at number six, and the stranger entered and placed her on a chair in the library. It was a large room filled with books open to an equally fine dining room. Whoever this man’s cousin was, Elizabeth admired his taste; it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine.
The stranger went back into the hall to speak with a woman, presumably the housekeeper, who promised to despatch a footman for a surgeon and said the master was due shortly.
“I should hope so,” the stranger said as he returned to the library. “We were to meet here at half past, and he is never late.”