Page 18 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious "Miss B"
“Then we shall send word immediately,” Bingley said. “But Miss Bennet stays here until Mr Morrison declares her fit to travel. I will not hear otherwise.”
“But the impropriety—”
“Hang propriety,” Bingley said with uncharacteristic firmness. “Your sister’s health matters more than gossip.”
Elizabeth looked between Bingley’s determined face and Jane’s grateful one. “Very well. But I shall stay as well. Jane cannot be left alone amongst strangers.”
“Of course,” Bingley agreed immediately. “We would not dream of separating you.”
As arrangements were made and messages dispatched, Darcy observed his friend with growing interest. Charles had taken complete charge of the situation, brooking no argument about Jane’s care. His genuine distress over her injury was unmistakable.
This was not the behaviour of a man merely charmed by a pretty face. Bingley cared for Jane Bennet—truly cared for her in a way that went beyond mere attraction.
The realisation should have concerned Darcy. The Bennet family’s circumstances remained unchanged. Their reduced fortune, their inappropriate connections, their want of consequence in society—all the objections that had occurred to him still applied.
Yet watching Bingley’s tender care as he helped Jane to her temporary quarters, seeing the way her pain seemed to cause him actual physical distress, Darcy found his concerns fading. Whatever Jane Bennet’s circumstances, his friend’s feelings appeared genuine and deep.
Perhaps there was more to consider than mere social advantage.
***
Much later, after Jane had been settled comfortably and Elizabeth had been shown to an adjoining chamber, Darcy was alone in the drawing room. The fire had burned low, casting flickering shadows across the walls.
He poured himself a brandy and settled into his favourite chair, reviewing the evening’s events. Elizabeth’s clever retorts during their conversation. Jane’s accident. Bingley’s immediate, protective response.
Most unsettling of all, his own changing feelings towards the Bennet family. A week ago, he would have dismissed them as beneath his notice. Tonight, he found himself admiring Elizabeth’s fierce loyalty and Jane’s quiet grace.
“Mr Darcy?”
He looked up to find Caroline hovering in the doorway, her hair released from its evening arrangement and flowing over her shoulders. She had changed into a wrapper of sapphire silkthat clung to her figure in a manner he suspected was entirely deliberate.
“Miss Bingley,” he said, rising politely. “I thought you had retired.”
“I could not sleep,” she replied, gliding into the room with studied grace. “The excitement of the evening, you understand. Poor Miss Bennet’s accident was quite distressing.”
“Indeed.”
Caroline settled herself on the sofa, arranging her wrapper to best advantage. “Though I confess I am not entirely surprised. The stairs at Netherfield can be treacherous, especially for those unaccustomed to grand houses.”
Darcy’s eyebrows rose. “Are you suggesting Miss Bennet fell due to inexperience with staircases?”
“Oh, not inexperience precisely,” Caroline said with a tinkling laugh. “But one does notice the difference between those raised in modest circumstances and those accustomed to grander establishments. Some people carry themselves differently.”
The implication was clear and entirely uncharitable. Darcy’s opinion of Caroline, already strained, dropped further.
“Miss Bennet’s accident was unfortunate,” he said coldly. “Nothing more.”
“Of course,” Caroline agreed, though her smile suggested otherwise. “I merely observe that such incidents seem more common amongst certain… classes of people.”
Darcy set down his brandy with deliberate care. “I find that accidents occur regardless of social standing, Miss Bingley.Gravity affects duchesses and farmers’ daughters with equal force.”
Caroline’s smile faltered. “You are quite right, naturally. I spoke thoughtlessly.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Caroline fidgeted with the belt of her wrapper, clearly searching for a new topic of conversation.
“I have been meaning to inquire,” she said at last, “about your cousin Anne. I heard the most interesting rumour in London.”
Darcy’s attention sharpened. “Indeed?”
