Page 8 of Transforming Mr. Darcy
“I am well.” Darcy cleared his throat again, though this had more to do with his embarrassment than any lingering ailment.
“Good. I will not hesitate to say that you had us all quite concerned.”
“I am sorry for that.”
“You are my friend, Darcy. Please do not mention it.”
Darcy knew Bingley meant that quite literally. He did not want to be thanked for thethings he did. His friendship had always been sincere and generous.
They talked, read, played chess and cards, and otherwise enjoyed their afternoon. Cartwright reported around four that Miss Elizabeth was to stay to nurse her sister and that servants had been sent to fetch them both clothing from Longbourn.
“I expect she shall come down for dinner, though she may not remain after,” the valet reported when questioned by the master of the house.
Bingley looked thoughtful. “I really cannot leave her at the mercy of my sisters,” he said ruefully. “Caroline has nary a good thing to say about Miss Elizabeth, and I should not like her to feel unwelcome.”
Darcy stood. “I shall dress and come down to dine with you, though I will retire directly after, if I may. You will explain to your sister that I am still recovering and am not yet well enough for a long evening?”
“Thank you,” Bingley said with a grin. “I appreciate the reinforcements.” He paused. “You will be kind to Miss Elizabeth?”
The question shocked Darcy. “Of course. Why would I not?”
Bingley frowned. “Well, you have not been on the best of terms with her, you know. You insulted her, then snubbed her and Colonel Forster at Lucas Lodge. Of course, we know you were taken ill, but . . .”
“I will be polite, Bingley.” He glanced up to see Bingley glaring at him. “And kind.”
Elizabeth wasin no mood to put up with the false manners of Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst. They had been telling humourous stories all afternoon, but the moment they heard Mr. Darcy was to come down to dinner, they had abandoned Jane without a single glance or polite farewell.
Miss Bingley had seated her next to Mr. Hurst, who quickly determined she preferred simple dishes to an elaborate ragout and therefore had nothing more to say. She had better company in Jane’s room even when her sister was asleep.
Mr. Darcy was across the table and down one position, next to Miss Bingley, of course. Elizabeth wished she could speak with him. Miss Bingley had complained this afternoon that Mr. Darcy had been injured and unable to rest the first week he was in residence, and then was taken ill again at Lucas Lodge. He had been in his chambers allweek. She had blamed the rustic environs. Mr. Darcy, she assured her guests, was normally a rather hale and hearty young man. Elizabeth forgave Mr. Darcy everything when she heard about his troubles, for not only was she was sure Mildread was at the root of them, Miss Bingley had been dreadfully indiscreet with his private matters.
When Mr. Darcy lifted his head halfway through the second remove and offered her a brief smile, she struggled not to react with surprise. What in the world did he mean by that? After a moment, she nodded.
Every time she forgot, he reminded her how handsome he was. No wonder Miss Bingley was smitten. Well, they would make a compatible couple, both believing themselves above their company. Miss Bingley was welcome to him.
Elizabeth glanced briefly at Mr. Hurst who was shovelling his food into his mouth, stopping only to tuck a napkin over his cravat to protect his jacket from the sauce dripping from his spoon. As he flipped out the corners of the napkin so that it covered his ample girth, she pressed her lips together and turned back to the table. Mr. Darcy was watching her, and if she was not mistaken, was also holding in a laugh. His eyes were a dark blue in the candlelight, but she detected a twinkle there.
Well. That was unexpected. Interesting, too. She would not have thought him to have much of a sense of the absurd.
“How does your sister fare, Miss Elizabeth?” Mr. Bingley inquired.
“Oh, she is well, Charles,” Miss Bingley replied before Elizabeth could answer. “Louisa and I were with her all afternoon.”
Yes. Telling their amusing stories long after they ought to have left Jane to her rest. But Jane was too polite to sleep while her new friends were expending such an effort to amuse her.
“She is resting, Mr. Bingley, thank you. I believe it is the best remedy for her now.”
“Excellent. It did wonders for my friend here,” Mr. Bingley said with a grin and a nod towards Mr. Darcy. “I am sure your sister will soon be well again, in no small measure because of your care for her, Miss Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth thanked him. What a delightful man he was. Jane had continued to meet Mr. Bingley in the neighbourhood on the few occasions he could be convinced to leave his friend at home, and she was increasingly happy with him. Priscilla had done a marvelous job. If they did wed, perhaps one day Jane would introduce her to a friend of Mr. Bingley’s who might find her a tolerably suitable prospect—it did not seem Mildread was likely to doso, focused as she was on punishing Mr. Darcy.
She nearly laughed at herself, then. My goodness, she was beginning to echo Mamma, convinced that Jane would marry Mr. Bingley because he had spoken amiably to her a few times and danced with her once. Yet Jane had never shown this much interest in a man before, and Mr. Bingleyhadmade it a point to ask after her. Elizabeth supposed she wished it to be true. Priscillamusthave guided Mr. Bingley here, for when had there ever been such an eligible man in the neighbourhood, and one so well suited to Jane in every way? No, she had reason to hope, and hope she would.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said, making an effort to speak clearly enough to be heard. Her heart went out to him. “I understand that your family has been at Longbourn for many generations.”
A smile curled her lips. He was offering her an opportunity to inform Miss Bingley of her heritage. Perhaps he was more teasing than she had believed. Or perhaps he wished to hear her admit that they had not long been gentry. She would disabuse him of that notion. “The land where Longbourn sits has been in Bennet hands since before the Normans arrived. Those in residence at the time were, shall we say, amenable to their visitors from abroad and were allowed to keep their property.”
“I had no idea the history of the estate went back so far,” Mr. Bingley said admiringly.
