Page 83 of Colour My World
“I fear I make a poor entrance. The rain came on rather suddenly. I could not remain at home, knowing Jane was unwell.”
Miss Bingley’s face stiffened as her greenairedeepened. “I do wonder,” she said, her tone sickly sweet, “Mr Darcy, if you find such exertions admirable.”
Elizabeth had not noticed him. He sat apart, composed, his hands resting upon his thighs. His expression was unreadable. And still no aire.
Miss Bingley leant forward. “To arrive in such weather. How very…intrepid. I daresay few ladies would risk a spoiled hem for a morning visit.”
“It is nothing that cannot be mended.”
Miss Bingley’s gaze drifted from Elizabeth’s slippers to her chin. “Still, I suppose in the country, one grows used to managing.”
Mrs Hurst rose. “Charles was called away to the steward’s office.” She gestured towards the door. “Shall I take you to your sister?”
* * *
Elizabeth entered the chamber, met by the scent of lavender and fresh linen. Jane lay propped against a mound of pillows, her hair loosely braided, the fever painted high on her cheeks.A Father’s Legacy to His Daughtersrested closed on her lap, though Elizabeth doubted she had read a word of it.
“Good heavens, Jane, you look dreadful.” Elizabeth sat in the chair closest to the bed.
Jane managed a weak laugh. “Is that the greeting of a devoted sister?”
“Of one who speaks plainly, yes. You are flushed. Miss Bingley tells me you are in excellent hands. I trust she speaks the truth?”
“She does.”
Elizabeth remained unconvinced. “Truly, Jane. How are you?”
Jane reached for her hand. Elizabeth let her take it, startled by the heat of her skin. As always, Elizabeth marvelled at the purity of Jane’s aire.
Her gaze drifted to the side table. “Lovely flowers.” A neat bouquet of cyclamen rested in a slender glass vase.
“They are. From Mr Bingley. He has been quite attentive.”
“I contradict myself, I know. Even ill, your beauty shines. Would that we all had such advantage.”
“Do not tease me, Lizzy.”
“I only wonder—has he always been so devoted? Or has hisconcern deepened now that you are unwell?”
Jane looked away. “I am well enough.”
Elizabeth removed the book from her lap. “Well enough to speak of Mr Bingley?”
“What a question. He has been nothing but kind.”
“That much is plain. But does his kindness stir your heart?”
Jane smoothed the coverlet.
“You are careful with your words, Jane. So much so that I sometimes do not know what you truly feel.”
Elizabeth leant forward. “You need not speak it for my sake. Only for yours.”
“He is the first gentleman whose attentions I dared to accept without fearing they would bring reproach.”
Elizabeth crossed to the window and pressed her fingers against the cold glass. Rain streaked the panes in steady rivulets. “Jane. Do not let fear silence what might be good.”
“And what of you, Lizzy? Will you heed your own advice?”
