Page 16 of The Talented Daughters of Longbourn

The grandfather clock on the wall struck four o’clock, chiming out the notes.

Mr. Hurst, draped along the couch, yawned and fell once more into a sound sleep.

On the chair beside him, his wife’s bracelets clinked together softly as she adjusted and readjusted them, staring idly at the glimmering stones.

“Oh, excellent move, Mr. Darcy!” Miss Bingley proclaimed, resting her needlework in her lap to lean forward and examine the board. Darcy lifted his eyes from where he had been examining his knight with discontent, favoring her with a flatly unimpressed look.

Fitzwilliam promptly took the knight with his bishop and leaned back in his chair smugly. Miss Bingley tittered in dismay. “Oh, no! I am certain you can retake the field, sir,” she announced valiantly.

Her brother cast her a doubtful glance from where he was also observing, but was forestalled from speaking by the door opening.

“Miss Elizabeth!” Bingley exclaimed, rising to his feet as Elizabeth entered the room. “How is your sister faring?

“She is not well, I fear,” Elizabeth replied. “She is still feverish and her head is throbbing. I must return home, but perhaps you could permit the maid Bridget to look after Kitty?”

“Oh, but surely you can stay the night?” Bingley inquired, looking around at the others in the drawing room. “I am certain that your sister would greatly appreciate your presence.”

Elizabeth looked about as well and noted that Miss Bingley’s nostrils were flared with irritation, but while she did not wish to intrude, she also did not wish to leave Kitty here without support.

“If it would not be too much trouble, I would very much like to stay with Kitty,” she said.

Bingley looked at his younger sister, who stepped forward and said, with reasonable graciousness, “Of course, that would be no trouble at all.”

/

A few hours later

Kitty was asleep and appeared a trifle easier when Elizabeth was summoned to dinner.

She was aware that her dress was rather creased from being hastily packed in her valise, but she was determined not to worry about it.

It seemed certain that Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, proud as they were of their fortune, would be finely arrayed, and as for Miss Darcy; well, her brother was owner of a vast estate, and her uncle was an earl!

She was the last to arrive in the drawing room, and she was relieved and surprised to discover that Miss Darcy was attired as simply as herself, in a blue woolen dress, which matched the color of her eyes, with a warm gray shawl around her shoulders and only a simple strand of pearls about her throat.

Mrs. Hurst was dressed in dark maroon, and Miss Bingley was, as Elizabeth expected, expensively clothed in patterned silk.

“How is your sister?” Bingley asked, hurrying forward.

Elizabeth smiled gratefully and said, “She is sleeping now, though I fear she is not well at all. Thank you again for permitting me to stay the night with her.”

“Of course,” Bingley said hospitably, just as the butler arrived to announce dinner.

To her great relief, Elizabeth found herself seated between Miss Darcy and Mr. Hurst. Mr. Hurst was a very quiet man with a prodigious appetite, but Miss Darcy, who had obviously taken to Mary, eagerly entered a conversation about music.

The girl was, Elizabeth concluded, kind and gracious, though her shyness might cause others to think her proud.

It was astonishing, given that Mr. Darcy was tall, stiff, and intimidating, that his sister was so gentle and timid.

Or perhaps it was not; siblings differed tremendously, after all. The five Bennet girls had varying interests and personalities.

“It must be delightful having so many sisters,” Miss Darcy commented, surprisingly echoing her own thoughts.

“It is,” Elizabeth agreed, as she cut her meat. “I am very thankful for my sisters, though I would certainly enjoy a brother as well.”

“Fitzwilliam is wonderful,” her companion said fervently. “I am so grateful for him.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something meaningless, and instead said, “It must be hard that you lost both your parents at such a young age, but I am pleased that you have a loyal brother.”

“Yes, it is hard,” Georgiana agreed. “I know that it is harder for Fitzwilliam. I have few memories of my mother and elder brother, whereas he knew and loved them both.”

Elizabeth froze with a bite of squash suspended mid air on her fork. “You had another brother? ”

“Harold, yes,” the girl answered. “He was heir to Pemberley until he died of consumption when he was twenty years old.”

“How dreadful,” Elizabeth murmured, as she felt her eyes sting with tears. She found both of her parents exasperating at times, but she loved them dearly. And as for Jane – well, the very thought of losing her elder sister was alarming.

Silence fell for a moment, and Elizabeth noticed her gaze shifting to Mr. Darcy, who was seated between Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, both of whom had been chattering throughout dinner with him.

It shed new light on Mr. Darcy’s personality; he had been a second son for most of his early life, only to become the heir, and then the master, of Pemberley.

It was a heavy load for a young man, and apparently, based on the combined accolades of his sister, cousin, and close friend, he had done well.

/

Two hours late r

“Miss Kitty is asleep again, Bridget,” Elizabeth murmured to the maid, whom she had found turning back the covers in her own guest chamber. “Do you mind sitting with her until I return?”

“Of course, Miss,” the girl responded, smiling shyly. In truth, sitting beside a sleeping lady, next to a warm fire, on a comfortable chair, was a very pleasant fashion to end a tiring day.

“Please summon me if she wakes and needs me,” Elizabeth continued, walking over to the valise to remove her sketch book, a pencil, and an eraser.

She checked herself in the mirror to be certain that she looked presentable and then made her way downstairs into the drawing room.

She would rather stay with Kitty, but given that she had forced herself into the Netherfield household, it was only courteous for her to make an appearance before everyone retired to their beds.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley called out as she entered the room. “May I inquire how your sister is?”

“She is asleep again, sir, thank you,” Elizabeth replied.

“Would you care to join us at loo?” Miss Bingley invited.

Elizabeth knew that she was by far the poorest individual in the room, and thus was not inclined to gamble with her hosts. “Thank you, but no. I intend to check on Kitty frequently, and I would not wish to disturb you by my comings and goings.”

Mr. Hurst made a pointed comment about the stalled game at this juncture, and all turned their attention back to their cards.

Elizabeth took a seat nearby, producing her sketch book and pencil.

She had observed a most interesting epergne in the center of the dining room table and had been itching to draw it.

It was a fanciful creation, comprised of silver flowers and cherubs, and she thought Jane would find it inspiring.

She opened up a new page and, frowning slightly, began drawing.

It was an odd thing, her memory – she did not remember everything she saw, certainly, but when she focused carefully on an object of interest, she could recall every tiny detail, every little squib and nub.

This gift had proven of great value to Jane over the years, and to her Uncle Josiah as well.

So engrossed was she with her drawing that she did not notice that Miss Darcy had approached until she heard a soft gasp in her ear. She started, accidentally making an unplanned mark on the paper, and looked up in surprise to observe Miss Darcy’s eyes widened in dismay.

“I apologize, Miss Elizabeth,” she cried out. “I ruined your picture! ”

“Not at all,” Elizabeth replied, pulling out her eraser and removing the offending mark. “Not at all, I assure you.”

Miss Darcy sighed in relief and said, “You draw so very well!”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “I enjoy it very much.”

“Is that a sketch of that odd creation on the dining room table?” Bingley asked, and Elizabeth realized that the loo game had ended, and now everyone was milling around.

“It is an epergne, Charles,” Miss Bingley said in a reproving tone, and walked over to peer over Elizabeth’s shoulder. There was a moment of silence and then the woman said, “It is done quite well, Miss Elizabeth, though I fear your depiction of the apple is rather too oblong.”

Elizabeth stifled a chuckle at this and said gravely, “I daresay you are correct.”

“I think it is marvelous!” Georgiana declared. “Do you only draw flowers and ... and...”

“Epergnes,” Darcy murmured.

“Epergnes?” Georgiana continued .

“I draw animals sometimes, and people as well,” Elizabeth said sedately.

“Oh, is there any chance ... though I ought not to ask you...”

Elizabeth turned toward Miss Darcy, curious about the passion in that young voice. “What would you like me to do, Miss Darcy?”

“Oh, I wonder if you might ... would you do a sketch of my brother? We have paintings of him at Pemberley, of course, but I would love a picture I could take with me when we are apart.”

Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy and was surprised to observe him coloring a little, as if embarrassed. Given how confident the gentleman seemed, it was odd and charming to see him discomfited.

“Georgiana,” the gentleman said gently, “we would not wish to burden Miss Elizabeth.”

“Nonsense,” Elizabeth replied promptly. “It would be my pleasure to draw you, if you are willing to sit still, at any rate.”

“I believe I can do that,” Mr. Darcy said with an uncertain smile.

“Very well. Do let me check on Kitty, and if she is still sleeping peacefully, I will make a sketch. ”

“Thank you,” Georgiana said gratefully.

/

Mrs. Hurst’s Bedchamber

Midnight

“Thank you, Emily,” Louisa Hurst said to her maid. “You may go.”

The girl scooted hastily out of the room, and Louisa turned her reluctant attention to her sister, who, while still garbed in her dinner dress, had wrapped herself in a woolen shawl to ward off the chill.

“What do you want?” Mrs. Hurst asked wearily. “I am tired and wish to sleep.”

“She is chasing Mr. Darcy,” Caroline hissed, her eyes narrowed with anger.

“Miss Elizabeth?” Louisa asked, sitting down on a chair near the fire. She knew her sister well; if Caroline was truly upset, it would take a few minutes to calm her down, and she might as well make herself comfortable .

“Yes, of course, Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Bingley snapped, and snorted inelegantly. “Everyone made such a fuss about her sketch of Mr. Darcy. It was no great thing.”

“It was remarkable,” Louisa said bluntly. “Miss Elizabeth is obviously very skilled. But I do not think you need worry; she only made the drawing because Miss Darcy asked her to do so. I see no signs that any of the Bennet ladies are pursuing Mr. Darcy.”

She said the latter sentence in reproachful tones, as it was obvious to all that Caroline was chasing after her brother’s best friend. But naturally, her sister did not choose to hear anything she did not wish to.

“Of course she is pursuing him! Why else would she spend so much time getting Mr. Darcy’s face and form just right!

It was really quite absurd watching it tonight, as she stood and moved around and erased and drew.

Mr. Darcy had best watch out; it would be just like Miss Eliza to engineer a compromise! ”

Louisa clenched her teeth at these words. Caroline was far more likely to engineer a compromise than Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but her eyes were heavy and all she wanted was her bed.

“I am certain Mr. Darcy and his valet will be careful of his privacy,” Louisa declared, fixing a reproving eye on her sister. “Very careful indeed. ”