Page 53 of A Most Beloved Sister
Each jostle of the carriage seemed to echo the tumult of her thoughts, her anxiety intensifying with the increasing distance from the revelry of the party, which now felt trivial in comparison to her sister’s health. The night outside was dark and still, a stark contrast to the storm of concern raging within her. Her hands, usually so steady, were clasped tightly in her lap, the knuckles white, as if by sheer will she could ensure Jane’s safety.
Every moment away from Jane seemed an eternity, and Elizabeth’s heart ached with the fear of what she might find upon her arrival. The uncertainty was the worst part, the not knowing if Jane’s condition had worsened in her absence, and it gnawed at her with unrelenting persistence, leaving her feeling helpless and desperate to be by her sister’s side.
It was all Elizabeth could do to wait for the footman to open the door to the carriage and hand her out, as opposed to her flinging the door open herself and racing for the front door.
She forced herself to moderate her steps and gracefully walk up the path. When the door opened and she saw Grantham’s face, she whispered, “How is she?”
Remaining stoic, he gave her a small wink and nod, then gestured towards the stairs with a quick tilt of his head. Elizabeth released the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. “Thank you, Grantham.”
In the bright candlelight of the front entryway, her fears were wiped away. She gave a little laugh and shook her head at the ridiculousness of her thoughts.
The wine and Major Wickham’s stories have not done my imagination any favors tonight,she thought with a rueful smile.
“Your aunt’s party seems to have had its intended effect.”
Her smile widened at Mrs. Hurst’s words. Elizabeth made her way down the hall towards the drawing room, where Mrs. Hurst stood in the door frame, waving a beckoning hand in a come-hither motion.
She entered the room and found Bingley and Darcy engrossed in a chess game while Hurst snored on a settee in the corner. The gentlemen—those who were awake—stood upon her arrival and bowed.
“I need not ask if you enjoyed yourself,” Bingley remarked with a beaming grin before retaking his seat.
“Your sister said nearly the same thing,” Elizabeth said with a small laugh. “Time with family and friends was quite pleasant, thank you. How is Jane?”
“Your sister is doing quite well,” Mrs. Hurst responded. “She spent a pleasant hour playing spillikins with us, and then Iescorted her to her rooms when she showed signs of fatigue. I believe your manservant is outside her chambers even now.”
“I am amazed you were all able to tolerate the game for as long as an hour! It is Jane’s favorite, but I confess that my family tires of it easily at Longbourn.”
“Darcy had never played before,” Bingley said. “We offered to teach him, but he chose to read a book instead.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and turned an astonished gaze at the tall gentleman. “You never played spillikins as a child, Mr. Darcy?”
To her surprise, his face flushed. His voice was stiff as he said, “My nurse felt it important to focus on my studies, and then I was sent to school. There were few opportunities to play.”
Her brow furrowed at this contrasting description of what Major Wickham had told her earlier. “I had understood from a childhood friend of yours that your youth was filled with… I believe his exact words were ‘fun and amusement.’”
The pink tinge in Darcy’s face faded to white. After several long moments of silence, he replied in a strangled voice, “Mr. Wickham’s memories of our childhood may be somewhat altered by the lens of prejudice and strong emotions like resentment.”
“Are you certain that resentment is all on his side?” The challenge in Elizabeth’s voice was unmistakable, and the air fairly crackled with electricity as the two stared into one another’s eyes.
“Would it not be advisable to hear all the facts before determining who carries more resentment?”
“By all means,” cried Bingley, “let us hear all the particulars! Please do not forget to include each party’s height and size, for that will factor in most in the argument! Miss Elizabeth, I assure you that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow in comparison with myself, I would not pay him half so much deference. Ideclare I do not know a more awful object than Darcy on particular occasions and in particular places—at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening when he has nothing to do.”
With the tension thus broken, the room dissolved into quiet laughter. Even Darcy smiled, but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was rather offended.
“I see your design, Bingley,” Darcy said. “You dislike an argument and wish to silence this conversation.”
“Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful, and then you may say whatever you like.”
“That is no sacrifice on my part,” Elizabeth replied with a smile, “as it is past time for me to turn in for the night. I am glad to hear that Jane felt well enough to be belowstairs for as long as she was.”
“It was truly a joy to spend time in her company,” Bingley said, rising to his feet when Elizabeth stood to leave the room. “I hope it to be the first evening of many spent together.”
Elizabeth acknowledged his statement with a nod, then bid them all a good night. As she left the room, she resisted the urge to remain in the hall and eavesdrop on a conversation that might reveal more of their true natures because of what they might divulge in her absence, but it would also be most unbecoming and unladylike of her to listen at the doorknob. Instead, she decided to go upstairs and relieve Jamie of his duties for the night.
The young man was sitting on a comfortable-looking chair outside of Jane’s room, his arms crossed awkwardly across his chest. Though his eyes were closed in an appearance of sleep, they immediately flew open upon hearing her footsteps approach, and his relaxed frame was instantly alert.
“That was kind of Mr. Bingley to have a chair brought for you,” she remarked.
