Page 9

Elizabeth sat up and reached for the glass of water, trying not to wake up too much so she could slip right back into sleep. It only took a few seconds to realize the glass was not in its usual spot. The unexpected guests had interrupted her bedtime routine, and she had forgotten to bring it up. She tried to go back to sleep, but her mouth was dry. Climbing out of bed, she pulled on her robe. She was about to tiptoe for the door when it dawned on her that she did not have to be quiet. Jane’s bed was empty.

Passing the drawing room, she noticed a candle flickering. She went in to put it out when she saw Mr Darcy reading a book by the scant light. He looked up when he heard the slight tread on the bare floor.

“I hope I did not wake you,” he whispered, not knowing what else to say. He knew he had not, as he had sat in complete silence for the last hour, not even turning a page.

“No,” she replied, hoping the faint light kept her appearance hidden. “I forgot to bring up my water before I retired.”

“I sleep very little these days.” Darcy was not sure why he volunteered the information.

“I could make you some chamomile tea. That might help.”

“That will not be necessary.”

“The water will still be warm.”

“Please, do not trouble yourself.”

“I will not take no for an answer. We would be considered poor hosts if we let a guest stay up all night,” she replied and hurried out.

“Miss E…” He started to say, then let her name fade on his lips as she disappeared. He let out a sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was not long before she came back with the drink.

“See, that did not take long at all,” she declared. Her thick braid swung forward as she leaned to hand him the cup. He unwillingly took it, not wanting to tell her he did not like chamomile. “Thank you. You did not have to go through the trouble.”

“It was no trouble at all.” She took a few steps back and sat on the couch. “You have not tried to sleep,” she said, observing he was still fully dressed except for his footwear. While his cravat was still around his neck, it had been pulled loose.

“I apologize for my state of undress. I was not expecting anyone at this early hour.”

“Then I must look a fright in my robe and hair. Jane usually braids for me.”

“Do not say anything, but I sometimes braided my sister’s hair. Not well but enough for the night.”

“I am impressed and have no fear your secret is safe with me. Although I do not know why you should think that a bad thing.”

“Gentlemen do not normally go around braiding hair, at least none I know. If they do, they do not discuss it.”

“Perhaps they keep it a secret as well,” she replied playfully. “If you do not drink any of the tea, it will not be able to help.”

Darcy looked at the drink and decided to appease her with a sip, hiding that he thought it tasted awful.

“Do you expect word from your cousin soon?”

He took another sip and set it on the table, but not before moving the book aside. She nodded in silent approval of his treatment of the book.

“I hope so. The waiting has proven difficult, especially for his sister.”

“Is that why you cannot sleep?”

“I will not burden you with my problems.”

“Then I shall burden you with mine. Perhaps it will take your mind off yours.”

“It is not necessary.”

“I know, but I shall do it anyway. You see, our home is under an entail. We do not have a brother, so it will go to a distant cousin. We shall be left to live in hedgerows with the hedgehogs and mice.” She laughed lightly. “At least that’s my mother’s fear.”

The prospect of her father’s death was probably not the best subject to bring up, considering the man’s present circumstances. Still, it was the only worry of the family.

“Would this cousin of yours let you stay, or does he have a large family of his own?”

“I don’t know. We have never met the man. I suppose he might.”

“You not do have the same fear as your mother?”

“Heavens no, at least not being forced to live in the hedgerows.” She wanted to add she was more sensible than her mother but refrained. “We shall make do with what money is ours and the help of our uncle. One must always be optimistic in life no matter what.”

Darcy was surprised that she did not mention marriage as an opportunity to escape the fate she described. After all, was that not the desire of all young ladies? In recalling the assembly, there had been a noticeable lack of eligible men.

“Your mother could remarry,” he remarked to broach the subject but not suggest it should be the daughters. He was always wary about even hinting at marriage lest the conniving mothers of society latch onto his words as a possibility for an available daughter. The mother still held some of her youthful looks, reminding him of an older version of Miss Jane. He did not see why this was not a possibility if the need arose.

Elizabeth giggled, covering her mouth to dampen her mirth at his suggestion. “I cannot see the possibility of that happening. Not to talk ill of my mother, but she has a hard enough time making it through the day without having to retire to her rooms because of her nerves. I cannot see the possibility of her being courted. The only time her nerves do not bother her is when she is planning a dinner.”

“We all have our strengths and weaknesses.”

“True,” she replied and stood. “Try and have a good night, Mr Darcy.”

“You as well Miss Elizabeth,” he replied.

Breakfast was not as usual at Longbourn the following day. Mrs Bennet was still subdued over Mr Bingley being at her table when he should have been at his. Mr Bennet, instead of reading his paper as he ate, was having a lively conversation with Mr Darcy on new farming methods. Mr Bingley had the two younger Bennet sisters enthralled with what information he could relay about the officers he had met the previous day. Mary quietly read her book, as usual. Elizabeth sat quietly observing all. It was a stark contrast to their regular breakfast, except for Mary.

Lydia and Kitty were always boisterous as they argued over something or another. Her mother was loud as she told them the latest gossip or her plans for the day. Her father was quiet unless he was remarking on something that had caught his ear. Elizabeth and Jane would be in quiet conversation about a book they were reading or making plans for how they would spend their day.

She found herself fascinated by the shadow of stubble that adorned Mr Darcy’s face. Though he wore the same clothes, they were immaculate, as always. Even his cravat was tied perfectly. Mr Bingley’s cravat was tied passably but hardly the neat knot she had always observed. There was also no trace of him needing a shave.

Breakfast was almost over when the servant sent to Netherfield to inform Bingley’s sisters about his whereabouts returned. Mr Hill entered the dining room and hesitated as he looked at the two letters. After a quick glance at Elizabeth, he stepped quickly to Mr Bingley. He handed him the first before delivering the second to Elizabeth.

After reading the note, she looked up at her father, who raised an eyebrow at her worried expression.

“Well, what does it say?” Mrs Bennet cried.

“Dear Lizzy.” She colored slightly at the informal use of her name in front of the two men. “After getting wet through yesterday, I fell ill during my visit. I wanted to send a note yesterday, but the rain prevented it. I am sorry if you worried needlessly. This morning, I find my condition worse, although not enough to become alarmed. It is only a sore throat and a headache.” Her voice trailed off at the closing endearment.

Mr Bingley cleared his throat. “My sister informs me of your daughter’s illness, although she mentions excessive coughing through the night as well. She is unsure how to proceed.”

“We should send for Mr Jones. He will know if she is well enough to move her,” Mrs Bennet stated emphatically.

“Nonsense, it might only be a cold, and Jane has enough sense to know if she is up for the short journey,” Mr Bennet replied.

“People have died from what they have thought were trifling colds,” she countered.

Elizabeth looked at Mr Darcy; their conversation in the middle of the night suddenly filled her with apprehension. What must he think of her mother?

“I shall go and ascertain the situation from my housekeeper. She will give me a proper recommendation on what to do.” Mr Bingley said.

“As I informed my driver to be ready to depart after breakfast, we can leave at once,” Darcy said.

Elizabeth bit her bottom lip as she watched both men push away from the table and stand. “May I come with you?” She blurted out, standing as well. “If it is all right with you, Father? I can be ready in no time.”

“Don’t be silly, Elizabeth. You mustn’t delay them getting back to Netherfield.”

Elizabeth looked to her father, hoping he would override her.

“It would be most improper to ride alone with two unmarried gentlemen,” Mary said solemnly.

“Then I shall walk.”

“You will do no such thing. With all the rain, you would not be fit to be seen by a vagabond.”

Darcy wished he had not stood so quickly, as he was at a loss for what to do. If he had been sitting, he could have taken a sip of coffee to hide his unease at witnessing the family squabble.

Mr Bennet looked at his daughter. Unlike their sisters, Jane and Elizabeth rarely asked anything of him. It had been many years since she had looked at him with pleading eyes. Which had usually been over the purchase of a new book.

“I do not see why not Lizzy. It will also be a comfort for Jane for you to visit.” He turned to Mr Darcy. “That is if you two do not have an objection?”

“Miss Elizabeth is most welcome,” Bingley said before looking at his friend for permission, as it was his carriage. Darcy gave his answer with a simple nod.

“I shall be back down in a jiffy.” She said, whispering a thank you to her father as she went by.