Chapter 9 Residual Brokenness
Miss Bennet was ill, there could be no two opinions about it. She had not said anything but she did not need to.
She had picked at her food the previous day and now she barely managed to sip her tea. Her hands were shaking and her complexion was white as a ghost except for her bright red cheeks.
Her emerald green eyes were dull and her voice was hoarse.
She managed to haul herself into the carriage but he was driving her hard and his guilt was pestering at his conscience. The maid travelling with her had not mentioned anything to him which made him believe it may not be as bad as it looked. She was spending her days with Miss Bennet after all. He rode outside the carriage and did not interact with her apart from the meals.
He had to stop by Pemberley regardless. His travelling attire would not do in town. He might spare an hour or two to have the apothecary look at her when they stopped by. Perhaps there was a tincture she could take to revive her spirits.
It was not his intention to stay at Pemberley for the night. They would reach it midday and had many good hours left to continue their journey South.
He was eager to relieve himself of the burden of caring for Miss Bennet. He was juggling dangerously close to the borders of propriety. Escorting an unmarried gentlewoman across the country with only a maid to chaperone her. A woman that had done nothing to prevent his sister from marrying the most loathsome creature on this earth. Even worked purposely towards the effect. No, he was not going soft on her. She would manage as he always did when he felt a little bit poorly.
XxX
"What a beautifully situated house!" Miss Bennet croaked. She was barely able to stand on her feet after she had exited the carriage. "What is the name of this hostelry?"
"Pemberley," was the curt answer she received when Mr Darcy turned his eyes upon the ancestral home. The gravel crunched behind him. He turned to look but Miss Bennet had not followed. She lay prostrate upon the driveway in an awkward position.
Was she trying to compromise him by forcing him to carry her?
The maid was at her side and tried to right her limbs to help her up but the body she worked upon stayed limp and unresponsive. Mrs Reynolds passed him in a flourish of skirts that belied her advancing years. She hunched down at Miss Bennet's side.
"Oh, I thought it was Georgiana. Who is this young girl?"
She addressed the maid, not him.
"Miss Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire. She was travelling with Mr Darcy to visit her uncle in London. I know nothing else, mam."
"My heavens, she is burning up. Jacob? Come here and carry this young lady to the rose room. I will send for the apothecary forthwith. How long has she been ill?"
She still did not address him but the maid. He was obviously out of her good grace to be so blatantly overlooked.
He did not object to her highhanded manner. He knew better than to gainsay her stellar wisdom. If she believed that Miss Bennet was ill, chances were that she was correct in ninety-nine of a hundred cases. Besides, one night in his own bed sounded heavenly.
With the matter of Miss Bennet in Mrs Reynolds capable hands, he entered his home and the sanctuary of his master suite of rooms.
XxX
It had been three days, three days with no sign of improvement according to Mrs Reynolds. He had to see for himself... Not that he plotted to enter a maidens room but he could stand on the outside, looking in, to gauge for himself if the lady was as ill as they claimed.
He knocked on the door, it was Mrs Reynolds who answered, just as he had thought. She kept vigilant watch over the lady to the detriment of himself and everyone else at Pemberley.
"May I be of assistance, Mr Darcy?"
She had barely opened the door but a crack. The bed was situated in the middle of the room making his gaze travel directly to its occupant.
He found it hard to speak, especially the words he intended to utter.
Miss Bennet was tossing and turning, drenched in sweat. He doubted very much she was alert to anything around her. She was talking though, what was she saying?
"You have to ask your brother's consent. You have only the one, surely you would want him at your side..."
She quieted for a few seconds before her delirious rant continued.
"No, no, no, no... I do not particularly like your way of begetting a husband. I will speak my mind whether you want it or not... It cannot be helped... You must marry...
Mrs Reynolds stepped out of the room and shut the door.
"Do you now understand why I have to tend to her myself? At least until she gets better or the worst should come to pass. I trust your staff but only to a certain extent..."
"I see... How long will it take for her to recover would you say?"
"I cannot say. It is more a matter of if than when she recovers. I will know more if she makes it through the night but I have my doubts. Not many pull through after three days of this state of fevered delirium."
"I shall send an express to her family at once. As I should have done when we arrived..."
Mrs Reynolds did not reply, just looked at him. It was clear she was disappointed in his behaviour.
He bowed and strode to his study to pen a quick note and send it off with a fast rider.
XxX
Five days later an unknown, tired old carriage was spotted coming down the driveway.
Mr Darcy watched as it ascended down the lane. He dreaded the onslaught of visitors, Miss Bennet had both of her parents alive and four sisters.
To his surprise, a tall young beautiful woman exited, followed by an elderly gentleman but no one else. Neither resembled Miss Bennet in any shape or form. Perhaps they were someone entirely unrelated to Miss Bennet?
Mr Darcy hurried down the stairs to receive the new arrivals in the foyer. His butler announced them.
"A Mr Bennet and a Miss Bennet to see you, Sir."
Miss Bennet gave him a quick curtsy while Mr Bennet gave him a slight bow. He perceived subtle hostility from the father.
"Please, will you take me to my sister, Mr Darcy?"
"Yes, follow me. I am relieved to inform you that she is reported to be a little better than when I penned your missive. I have naturally not seen her myself but my housekeeper assures me she is on the mend."
He had no idea why he chose to escort them to Miss Bennet, or rather Miss Elizabeth's room in the presence of her elder sister, himself. His housekeeper was much occupied with the patient but he had a butler, conveniently present, several footmen and many maids who could have done the deed just as well. He chose not to dwell on it, although he admitted to some level of curiosity about the newcomers.
He reached the door and knocked lightly. Mrs Reynolds knew Miss Elizabeth's relations had arrived and opened the door.
Her sister ran the last leg and flung herself at her sister who welcomed her with open arms.
"We have been so worried, Lizzy. I am so glad you are feeling a little better."
"Much better, I am not prone to being ill. I always recover and much quicker than my mother appreciates."
"You should not even jest about it, Lizzy. I know you have been seriously ill."
Darcy averted his eyes from the reunited sisters. Mr Bennet had not yet entered the room. He stood beside him on the threshold with suspiciously misty eyes. He heard the man draw a shuddering breath before he approached his daughter.
"My Lizzy, do you always have to make such a spectacle of yourself!"
The man was barely holding it together and resorted to making sport to cover up his fluctuating emotions. Darcy closed the door behind him, letting the little family have their privacy.
He removed to his study. He had been relieved when the news had come that Miss Elizabeth's fever had broken but her fevered utterances left him with questions. By what he had heard, it seemed like she had tried to persuade Georgiana away from marrying Wickham but if so, why had she not defended herself during their quarrel?
She had accepted everything he had thrown at herself yet valiantly defended Georgiana, despite knowing full well his sister culpability. What had Georgiana pronounced? They were similar, too high on the instep, hardly a compliment in either's case. He suspected it was the only comparable trait they had...
XxX
Mr Darcy saw little of his guests apart from the meals. The Bennets spent their days with the patient. Only late at night had he encountered Mr Bennet in the library which he had offered him the free use of. The elderly gentleman had seemed awestricken when he escorted him to the room. He had chuckled and muttered that he now understood why his daughter had taken ill at such an importune moment.
It was during one of those late-night encounters that Mr Bennet had thanked him for rescuing his daughter when she found herself abandoned at the Scottish border. He had made no accusations towards his sister and her husband. Perhaps, Mr Bennet understood his daughter's culpability in the matter.
A week later, Miss Elizabeth had partaken some meals in the dining room and enjoyed short walks in the garden, mostly to the nearest bench. The August weather was cooperative towards such excursions. Elizabeth still sat huddled with a shawl wrapped tightly around her person when Darcy happened upon her one afternoon. He looked about to see if Miss Bennet was around but no one was near that he could tell.
Indecisively, he stood there gazing upon her closed eyes, her head tilted towards the sun, soaking up the rays that gently bred ladies were supposed to avoid. She shuddered, the eyes opened and she startled. Damn his luck, she spotted him lurking at once, he should have removed as soon as he lay his eyes upon her. Instead of engaging him in conversation, she lowered her eyes to the ground.
"Are you cold, Miss Elizabeth?" He was a gentleman, he could perform when desired.
"No, I thank you, Mr Darcy. I am quite comfortable. May I offer you a seat in your own garden?"
He sat, with a proper distance between them, why he had no idea. Curiosity perhaps?
"Miss Elizabeth, when you were ill I sometimes went to your room to inquire about your condition." Her eyes widened, deuce his wayward tongue. He made it sound as he had been in her room. "Mrs Reynolds would step out of the room and give me a report and notify me of any needs. During one of these reports, you spoke in delirium I believe but it often has a sliver of truth to it. Something you said puzzled me... You urged Georgiana to seek my consent which I thought was strange, considering the circumstances."
"I was invited by a friend to visit her home under the pretence that she needed my support requesting for her brother's consent to marry. We were to be escorted by a man of the cloth who at all times in Ramsgate had behaved like a gentleman. Riding outside the carriage, never taking any liberties with your sister. I believed it proof of his sincerity towards genuinely asking for your blessing and consent. The son of a close friend of my aunt's father who my aunt had fond memories of as a child. I esteem my aunt greatly, Mr Darcy. She is a wise and genteel lady.
Mr Wickham had such honesty in his expressions, he never tried to hide his flaws but repented his sins openly. I thought the breach might be due to a misunderstanding or perhaps I believed you to be judgemental and unyielding by denying a remorseful sinner clemency.
I was not even aware we were going to Gretna Green until I could see Morecambe Bay. As I mentioned, we were supposed to go to Pemberley to obtain your consent. Georgiana wanted me to come along to boost her confidence. I did not know of the change of plans until it was too late. She had to marry, Mr Darcy. There was nothing else to do..."
"There is always something to be done, Miss Elizabeth."
"I owe you an apology, Mr Darcy. It seems I was quick to judge your perceived faults when my own were unforgivable sins. I, who have always prided myself in my judgment of character, could not have been more mistaken. I know it can mean but little to you but I am aggrieved to have made such a wretched error, to the eternal detriment of your sweet sister. I am grateful for your assistance in conveying me so far, Mr Darcy. With so little inducement towards gentlemanly behaviour, it was chivalrous of you not to leave me to my own devices. I am confident that I will soon be well enough to return to Hertfordshire. You must be desirous of having your home to yourself, free of uninvited guests."
The thought hit him. When the Bennets left, he would be all alone. He could not send for Georgiana to keep him company, he did not even know where she was at. Could he be mistaken in Mr Wickham? Had his youthful follies been just that, a rebellion that time and wisdom had rectified?
XxX
Mr Darcy bowed his head, the grief of losing his sister wafted over his countenance. There was no doubt the man fretted about his sister and she must be a constant reminder of his loss.
It did not escape her that he had uttered nothing to make her stay...
Where had that nonsensical thought come from? What was she imagining? That Mr Darcy would beg her to stay despite her being the means of ruining his sister's life, quite possibly forever?
The fever must have addled her mind. Pemberley was admittedly the most beautiful estate she had ever seen but she felt no attachment towards the house itself. The library was, of course, an incentive in itself for some envy but the lending library had books. One just needed a bit of patience for the newest additions to become available.
Her questions unresolved, she must speak to her father and hurry their departure along. She could sit in a carriage, there was no longer any reason to stay.
Elizabeth rose and went in search of her father. Mr Darcy did not stir and probably wanted her long gone.
"My good opinion once lost is lost forever," he muttered under his breath as she walked away but not far enough away to miss his parting words. "I cannot forgive folly and vices, even should I wish it..."
It was neither more nor less than what she expected. She kept her legs moving forward until she found her father where she expected, in the library.
"We should lave for Hertfordshire, Papa. If I can sit on a bench in the garden, I can sit in a carriage."
Mr Bennet eyed her intently. She blushed which must have made him suspicious her fever might be returning.
"I believe we should wait another day or two. Just to be on the safe side. I am relieved you are feeling restless. I will take it as a sign of your recovery but I doubt that you are that anxious of being home at Longbourn. Tell me, have you made your pardons to Mr Darcy?"
"I have."
"And what did he reply?"
"Very little, in fact, nothing at all when I come to think of it."
His last statement she did not want to repeat to her father. They were uttered absentmindedly, probably more to himself than purposely intended for her ears.
"I am certain that must have made you uneasy but pardons are not meant to bring you comfort. I am of a mind that it would not hurt you to feel it. I am seriously disappointed in your behaviour, Elizabeth. I would not have blinked had it been Lydia who made such a grave misjudgement but I expect better from you."
"Yes, Papa..."
Elizabeth let herself out of the library, intent on reaching her room before the first salty tear escaped its confinement. She had let her father down, let herself down and everyone else who had ever held her in high esteem.
"Why such a miserable countenance? One should always be merry in a beautiful estate such as Pemberley.
Where is Mrs Reynolds when one needs her? Mrs Reynolds!"
The Colonel bellowed, making Mrs Reynolds almost break into a run to investigate what had caused such a breach in decorum.
"Ah, there you are. May I beg an introduction to this lovely young lady my cousin has closeted away at Pemberley? Even though she does have the same dour expression..."
She would wipe the grin off his countenance if she told him what she had done but it was not her story to tell. Mr Darcy would fill him in at his leisure. She gave the Colonel a weak smile as Mrs Reynolds performed the necessary introductions.
"Enchanted, Madame," he bowed low over her hand.
"Richard! I thought you were deployed."
"No, I have been in Scotland to enlist more soldiers."
Mr Darcy had stirred from the bench in the rose garden or quite possibly been distressed by the shouting, coming from inside. Either way, Elizabeth slipped away unnoticed by the gentlemen who were soon sequestered in Mr Darcy's study. Not that Elizabeth knew, she was more concerned about the loathsome expression she would read on Colonel Fitzwilliam's countenance when next they met. Was it plausible to wish for never?
XxX
Supper was awkward at best. The two families were both in attendance but were divided in conversations and interactions. They might as well have been in two different dining rooms.
Elizabeth did not know what to do when the meal ended. There was no hostess, should she leave the gentlemen?
Jane made the decision for her, she rose and asked Mr Darcy if they could utilize the music room. He nodded his acceptance and the ladies left, asking a footman for directions. Jane had been on a small tour of the house with Mrs Reynolds but feared they would get lost if they had to rely on her sense of direction.
Elizabeth walked into a large and bright room with the most beautiful pianoforte she had ever seen. It was a white grand with gold embellishments in the baroque style. Probably a copy since it looked brand new but it was impressive. It drew her in and she sat down on the stool before she had processed a sensible thought.
"Play something, Lizzy. I know you are dying to."
"Mr Darcy may object."
"Why should he object?"
Elizabeth looked steadily at her sister who returned her gaze with an, at the moment, quite annoyingly serene expression.
Jane never thought badly of anyone, least of all her dearest sister. She had immediately excused Elizabeth error in judgement but uncharacteristically pronounced Mr Wickham as the most devious of men. Pardoning Elizabeth for having been taken in by a cunning professional in her next breath. With Elizabeth's limited experience with rogues and rakes, she could not be faulted for not seeing through their deception.
Her fingers moved over the keys by their own volition. It was too tempting not to let her fingers run through a scale. Before she knew it, she was singing soft and tenderly, the Bonnie Banks O'Loch Lomond. A Scottish song her aunt had taught her. She did not have the full use of her voice but somehow it made the performance more deeply felt. She noticed Jane was spellbound with tears glistening on her lashes so she pressed on.
By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond Where we two have passed so many blithesome days On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond
O ye'll take the high road and I'll take the low road And I'll be in Scotland afore ye But me and my true love will never meet again On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond
I mind where we parted on yon shady glen On the steep, steep side o' Ben Lomond Where in purple hue, the Heiland hills we view And the moon shinin' out from the gloamin'
O ye'll take the high road and I'll take the low road And I'll be in Scotland afore ye But me and my true love will never meet again On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond
The wee bird may sing and the wild flowers spring And in sunshine the waters are sleeping: The broken heart will ken nae second spring again And the world does not know how we're grievin'
O ye'll take the high road and I'll take the low road And I'll be in Scotland afore ye But me and my true love will never meet again On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond
Scottish traditional.
When she finished, three gentlemen were applauding from behind. Elizabeth blushed crimson, it had not been her purpose to remind Mr Darcy of Scotland. She had just been caught up in the moment.
The Colonel immediately came to her side and practically begged for more but Elizabeth had exhausted her voice with only one song. She played a lively air but did not sing. When she was finished, she was spent. Her health was still fragile it would seem.
She excused herself and the Colonel offered to escort her to the stairs but her father beat him to it. He mentioned a book he had promised to read to her before she went to sleep. Elizabeth was grateful.
Mr Darcy could not have told his cousin the sordid Scottish tale. When he did, the Colonel would surely desist his flirtatious behaviour and loathe her as any sane man would do.
It was unusual though, that any man paid her any attention when her sister Jane was in the room. The Colonel treated Jane with respect and politeness but he sought out Elizabeth. Perhaps Mr Darcy had hinted his interest to his cousin and the Colonel was giving Mr Darcy leeway to pursue his romantic interest?