Page 17 of To Love And To Cherish (Pride And Prejudice Variation #3)
Elizabeth accepted the tray from Betty, the cheerful maid assigned to care for her and Jane, and placed it upon the table beside the bed.
“Jane, dearest,” she said gently, “your supper is here.”
Jane turned her face into the pillow. “Leave it, Lizzy. My head aches dreadfully, and I cannot taste anything. Perhaps later, when I feel stronger. I would, however, like another cup of willow bark tea. Tepid, if you please. I can drink it more quickly that way, and the bitterness offends me less.”
Elizabeth prepared the draught and helped her sister sip it down.
Once Jane was settled back beneath the covers, Elizabeth straightened the linens, hesitated briefly, and then made her reluctant way to the drawing room.
She had sought every excuse to remain upstairs, but duty and civility would not allow her to avoid the evening entirely.
Mr. Bingley greeted her with immediate concern. “Miss Elizabeth, how is your sister? I have been anxious since the maid informed us she would not be joining us this evening.”
“She is quite ill, Mr. Bingley. Her fever remains high, and her head pains her exceedingly. I thank you for your hospitality and your kindness. We are both grateful for it.”
Georgiana appeared at Elizabeth’s side, her voice low and warm. “Will you sit next to me, Miss Elizabeth? I should like that very much.”
Elizabeth smiled and nodded. “It would be my pleasure.”
But before they could move toward the dining table, Miss Bingley interposed herself, her tone syrupy but edged.
“Georgiana, darling, you must sit beside me. I dare say I have far more to teach you than Miss Eliza. She comes from such a small, rustic circle; one can hardly expect her experience to extend beyond local dances and country gossip.”
The air chilled. Mr. Bingley looked up sharply, and Mr. Darcy’s brows drew together in a frown.
Miss Bingley, perceiving no laughter at her jest, flushed faintly and directed a tight smile at her brother.
She could not comprehend how Elizabeth had so swiftly turned the men’s favor against her, but she blamed her nonetheless and determined to reassert her superiority.
Dinner passed in relative quiet, though Elizabeth was keenly aware of Miss Bingley’s simmering malice. The gentlemen lingered in the dining room over their port, while Miss Bingley led the ladies into the drawing room and at once commenced her campaign against Elizabeth.
She cast a pointed glance at Elizabeth’s curls and gave a slight sniff. “I do not care what Mr. Darcy says; coarse curls are never becoming. He is always attempting to defend you, Miss Eliza, but truly, one must see things clearly. Refinement is not so easily feigned.”
Elizabeth offered a conciliatory smile to Georgiana, whose cheeks had turned pink.
Miss Bingley continued, her gaze drifting down Elizabeth’s form. “Your figure may be light as Mr. Darcy once noted, but it’s not pleasing. I think most gentlemen prefer a more shapely silhouette. Your sister Jane, now, she is truly formed to please.”
Elizabeth remained composed. “Every gentleman has his preference, and Mr. Darcy is as entitled to his opinion as you are to yours, Miss Bingley.”
“Oh, but your eyes ,” Miss Bingley said with exaggerated innocence. “He once claimed they were ‘fine.’ Yet I find them rather dark and ordinary. Your sister’s sapphire eyes are the only ones in your family truly worth admiring.”
Elizabeth smiled, though her eyes flashed. “Indeed? Well, beauty, like taste, is a matter of opinion. But I can see that my presence is unwelcome. If you will excuse me.”
“I shall accompany you,” Georgiana said quickly, rising from her chair. “It’s been a long day, and I need to rest.”
In the dark hallway, away from Miss Bingley’s prying eyes, Elizabeth placed a gentle hand on the younger girl’s arm. “Let me look in on Jane first. Then I will join you in the library. Did you ever find the first volume of Udolpho ?”
“No,” Georgiana whispered. “I was afraid to look for it.”
“I know just where it is,” Elizabeth said with a mischievous smile.
Georgiana waited outside Jane’s bedchamber as Elizabeth slipped inside. A few moments later, she returned. “She is still asleep. Come.”
Together, they stole down the corridor to the library, where Elizabeth located the book with ease. They fed the fire, curled up on a settee with their feet propped upon a low tea table, and began to read aloud, sharing laughter and warmth.
Not long after, the gentlemen re-entered the drawing room.
“Where are Miss Bennet and Georgiana?” Mr. Bingley asked.
“They retired early,” Miss Bingley said, her tone crisp. “Miss Eliza seemed rather out of sorts.”
Mr. Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Georgiana is not unwell, I trust?”
“I daresay she is merely tired,” Miss Bingley said, waving a dismissive hand.
Darcy excused himself and made his way through the dim corridors, drawn by the sound of feminine laughter.
When he stepped into the library, he paused, startled.
There they were, tucked under a shawl, Georgiana on one side of the settee, Elizabeth on the other, their slippers discarded, their stockinged feet resting on the table as Georgiana read aloud.
“Georgiana,” he said sharply.
Both young women sprang upright, hastily straightening their skirts.
“Why are you here?” he asked. “It is discourteous to leave the drawing room unless you are truly unwell.”
Georgiana squared her shoulders. “Miss Bingley insulted Elizabeth’s hair, her figure, and her eyes. Elizabeth left, and I did not think she should be alone while her sister lay abed. We came here to read. I think… Miss Bingley hoped to have you all to herself.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “Then she must now bear the solitude she desired.”
He approached the fire and reached for the book. “I see your taste in literature has not improved, Georgiana. I have never read Udolpho . I suppose I may as well discover what all the fuss is about. Hand it over.”
Georgiana obeyed, and he began to read aloud. His rich baritone voice gave the Gothic prose a new elegance.
Fifteen minutes passed before Charles appeared in the doorway. “Darcy! I thought you meant only to check on your sister. Caroline sent me to look for you.”
Darcy did not glance up. “Caroline insulted Miss Elizabeth repeatedly, in the hope of driving her from the room. When she succeeded, Georgiana chose to keep Miss Elizabeth company. I happened upon them and thought I’d learn what made this novel so absorbing. To my surprise, it is quite engaging.”
Bingley laughed. “Well, pour me a brandy and read on. I’ll not let you enjoy it without me.”
“Help yourself,” Darcy muttered, grinning. “If I start drinking, I shall end up in my cups, and Miss Elizabeth will censure me for poor conduct.”
Elizabeth, startled by his teasing, turned toward him with raised brows.
Perhaps he was already in his cups. That could be the only explanation for his good humor.
He grinned at her, and, unable to help herself, she returned the smile. Whatever discord had lingered in the drawing room, the library had become a haven.
A quarter hour later, Elizabeth rose. “I must look in on Jane. She hadn’t touched her supper tray; perhaps I can persuade her to eat something now.”
Darcy and Bingley both stood. Darcy said, “Charles, we ought to rejoin the others before your sister comes searching for us.”
Later that evening, a gentle stir at the door announced Jane’s entrance, supported by Elizabeth and looking rather pale but bright-eyed.
Mr. Bingley rose at once and stepped forward, his face lighting with relief and admiration.
He moved quickly to rearrange the seating, drawing a chair nearer the hearth.
“Miss Bennet, allow me,” he said with warm concern, offering his hand to steady her. “You must not sit too far from the fire. It is very comfortable here.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jane replied softly, her smile faint but sincere as she accepted his arm and seated herself with quiet elegance.
Bingley took the chair beside her, scarcely able to believe his good fortune.
She was not only the loveliest woman he had ever seen, but her fair skin, golden curls, and gentle bearing stirred something tender in his chest, and there was a sweetness in her countenance, a serenity of spirit that soothed him in ways he could not name.
After years of Caroline’s sharp tones and constant manipulation, Jane’s mild voice and tranquil manner felt like a balm.
She was no artifice. No calculation. She was good, steady, and kind.
“I hope your rest this afternoon was of some benefit,” he said gently.
“It was, thank you. I slept for several hours,” Jane replied. “The warmth and quiet were just what I needed.”
He smiled. “It does one good to rest and recover.”
She blushed faintly and lowered her gaze. “Thank you, Mr. Bingley, for your hospitality to my sister and me. We have quite imposed upon you with this sudden illness. I do beg your pardon.”
“On the contrary,” he said softly, “it has been my honor to serve you in whatever small way I might. Please do not imagine yourself a burden. It has been nothing but a pleasure to know you are under my roof.”
Jane glanced at him in surprise, her smile blooming wider. “You are very kind.”
Bingley felt a pleasant heat rise to his collar, but pressed on, eager to draw her out. “If I may ask, how do you pass your days when not entertaining a drawing room full of admirers?”
Jane laughed, a quiet, musical sound. “I sew for the parish children, in company with my sisters, and I work in the garden whenever the weather permits. My mother would prefer more social engagements, but I am happiest with a needle or working in the garden.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I should like to see that garden someday. I imagine it is as peaceful as its mistress.”
Her eyes softened. “It is my refuge, when I need time to think.”