Page 85 of Miss Bennet's Dragon
“Oh. Thank you.” I was astonished that was so simple. “How long will it take a letter to reach him?”
There was silence before he answered. “Mr. Bingley is in America. To my current knowledge, the post is ten weeks. A return trip, at least as long.”
“Twentyweeks?” My heart sank even as I realized he had guessed my desperate hope that Mr. Bingley might return. But perhaps we had that much time. “In your experience, how far have Jane’s symptoms progressed?”
The answer came slowly. “The symptoms you describe are advanced illness.”
“And what is the outcome of binding sickness? How long…” I knew my question, but I could not speak it aloud. “Perhaps your library would inform me of the usual duration?”
The silence stretched longer. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and exact. “After more consideration, I feel you would not be well served by the literature in Pemberley’s library. I will, of course, put it at your disposal if you wish. You need but say a word. However, I suggest I review it on your behalf and forward any practical advice.”
“Oh no.” I had to stop to regain my voice. “Is it so dire as that?”
“I assure you there is hope.” He stepped forward. We stood close now. “I give you my word.” His voice was intense, deep, and resonant with sincerity.
I nodded. My fear retreated at his certainty.
“I have a last request,” I said. “A small one. But you must indulge me by not asking why.” For all I had admitted, I dared not reveal that I had conversed with a wyvern.
He waited, as if agreement was undeniable.
“May I borrow a jug?” I said. “Or a jar? Something that can be tightly sealed?”
His formality relaxed. An eyebrow arched. “Without asking why, if you explain further, I could choose a suitable container.”
“I wish to take a sample of water from the lake.Yourlake. Pemberley’s lake, that is.”
“I will have a sample of the water delivered to you tomorrow.” He betrayed no surprise at my odd request. “May I ask where you are staying?”
I told him the name of the inn. And then, I had nothing else to say.
We stood in silence. Even as I realized we were inches apart, he retreated a step, then looked around.
“We have lost Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner,” he observed.
“I cannot imagine where they have gone,” I said. We had spoken long enough for them to catch up.
Mr. Darcy indicated the path back, and we proceeded at a sedate pace.
The Gardiners were by the pool where we had begun, sitting on a bench.
“I am sorry,” my aunt said. “I found I was more tired than I knew. We decided to rest here.”
“Then you must visit again to finish your tour,” Mr. Darcy said. He addressed Mr. Gardiner. “The trout you spotted prefer the eastern pools. There is also excellent coarse fishing in the lake. I would be pleased to provide you with tackle.”
“That is exceedingly generous, sir.” My uncle gave a bow.
Mr. Darcy continued, “Regrettably, I must leave you now for pressing business. You are welcome to enjoy the gardens in my absence.”
My uncle thanked him but said we should depart, and began goodbyes, but could not resist a question about the trout. The two men turned and began pointing to areas of the stream.
My aunt took my arm. “Are you all right, Lizzy?” she said softly.
“Yes. I am quite relieved, in fact.”
33
A SIGNIFICANT INTRODUCTION
