News
"Girls, do come in! I have news!" Mrs. Bennet's voice called from inside the sitting as Elizabeth and Jane removed their coats.
They exchanged glances. Might Papa have improved? Their mother's voice certainly sounded cheerful.
Mrs. Bennet sat on the loveseat with two people who were very dear to them. Elizabeth squealed happily when she saw them. "Your uncle and aunt have arrived a day early! Jane, it is settled! You shall return to town with them after Christmas. Now if that doesn't sound wonderful? What more could a girl want than a dose of London society?"
Jane and Elizabeth greeted their relatives with happy surprise, smiling at their mother's words. "What have I done to secure this privilege? What a pleasure it would be to see London," Jane said.
"Jane, do not question. You must simply say yes. If anyone deserves a visit to London at Christmastime, it must be you," Elizabeth said, nudging her from behind.
"La!" Lydia said coming into the room. "Cannot I not attend as well? I deserve London as well as Jane."
"No, you may not," Mrs. Bennet said.
"You are too young, Lydia. This is a special trip for Jane," Elizabeth said.
"My spirits need raising as well!"
Elizabeth shook her head. "Your spirits need no such thing, Lydia."
Lydia frowned. Elizabeth hoped that Jane and Bingley might soon cross paths in London.
"I'm so deprived of society!" Lydia called and sank down on the loveseat with an arm over her eyes.
"Yes, you certainly are," Elizabeth agreed and the adults all laughed.
Kitty entered the sitting room and with newly delivered mail.
"Another letter from Mr. Collins. Anyone wish to read it?" Kitty said, carrying an envelope. She tossed it to the loveseat near where Lydia sat.
"No," Lydia said and flicked the letter back toward Kitty as though it were a bug or object of disgust.
"Nor I," Kitty shot the letter back to Lydia.
"Girls, stop this nonsense right now! You will respect our mail," Mrs. Bennet called. "No matter whom it is from."
Elizabeth bent over and picked up the envelope. "If Mr. Collins knew what abuse his missives received, no doubt he would stop writing them."
Mrs. Gardiner nudged Elizabeth. "Why does Mr. Collins write if he is so disrespected?'
"Mr. Collins is the man who will inherit Longbourn!" Lydia said.
"Ah," Mrs. Gardiner said. "That Mr. Collins!"
Mr. Gardiner looked at the girls. "Mr. Collins must feel like a rooster to inherit a hen house."
"If I can get one of my girls to marry him," Mrs. Bennet said and sighed.
"If he is writing, then perhaps all hope is not lost," Mrs. Gardiner said cheerfully.
"Oh, he wants to marry Lizzy, but she's lukewarm to him." Kitty said, now happy to have the adults' attention.
"Because he is awful," Lydia added.
"And how so?" Mr. Gardiner asked. "He's going to be master of Longbourn. If he's ugly, maybe better clothing will make the man."
"Ugh," Lydia said. "Mr. Collins is splotchy, sermonizing, and his breath reeks of old onions."
Elizabeth swallowed her smile at the description. It was not entirely inaccurate.
"We must not talk so ill of our cousin," Jane said. "He is not here to defend himself."
"Thankfully! Or we'd have to bear his dragon breath!" Lydia said.
"Lydia, enough!" Elizabeth said, in part to keep from laughing.
Later that evening after dinner, Aunt Gardiner took Lizzy's hand and sat her down across the room where they might speak more freely. "How does your father fare? I looked in on him and have heard your mother's account, but might you give me your opinion of his condition?"
Elizabeth recounted all she had seen and that the apothecary had told her. "As it stands, we do not know if Father will wake up at all." Although she tried to reign in her emotions, her eyes filled as she spoke.
Her aunt frowned and grasped Lizzy's hand. "I am so sorry that your lives have become so difficult."
Elizabeth tried to smile through her tears. "Ironically, our lives have not changed very much yet, but we have no notion of what the future will bring."
"Is there any idea how long he may linger in his state?"
Elizabeth shook her head.
"And that man-Collins-will inherit. What might you do then?"
Elizabeth smiled weakly. How could she make it known to her aunt that this very notion had run around in her head so severely that she thought of little else. Elizabeth finally shrugged. "I will cross that bridge if I come to it."
Her aunt's brows furrowed. "My dear, does Collins have a fondness for a particular one of you?"
Elizabeth sighed. "As Kitty has ascertained, he seems to favor...me."
Aunt Gardiner's eyebrows rose. "It is not mutual?"
"No," Elizabeth's face reddened. "I am not in love, Aunt. But, as Mama points out. he will inherit. She seems to think fondness may be cultivated carefully like a garden."
Mrs. Gardiner's smile kindly. "That depends on a good many things, primarily respect. Do you think him a good man?"
Elizabeth pressed her lips together. What could she say? That they all thought him a fool? Her opinion did not change the fact that they would have no home. Even with their generosity, she knew her aunt and uncle could not take them all in.
Mrs. Gardiner changed the subject. "And what of Mr. Bingley's attachment to Jane? It seems to have been a desirable match. I am sorry it went off. Pray, how violent was Bingley's love?"
Here Elizabeth grew earnest. "I never saw a more promising inclination. He was growing quite inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. Every time they met, it was more decided and remarkable. I spoke to him twice and he didn't hear me, though I was next to him. Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?''
Mrs. Gardiner smiled gently. "Oh, yes! Poor Jane. I am sorry for her. With her disposition, she may not get over it. It had better have happened to you, Lizzy; you would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. And what of this Mr. Darcy fellow?" Her aunt looked at her closely.
Elizabeth replied quickly. "There is a villain in the making. He is not ugly, I suppose, if one does not mind frowns and glowering. But he is decidedly arrogant and looks down his nose at the rest of us. Odious man."
"Oh, I see. So there is no risk of you or your sisters running off to Gretna with him?"
"I think it might be less painful to step barefoot into the lit hearth."
Mrs. Gardiner smiled. "You have not lost your wit, Lizzy."
"A pity that will not house or feed us all," Elizabeth said quietly.
"Father is awake!" Jane appeared flushed and tearful on the threshold of the door to the breakfast room two mornings later as the physician visited. "Lizzy, you must come!"
Elizabeth immediately pushed back her chair from her half-eaten breakfast and stood before rushing to Jane across the room.
"What is this about?" Mrs. Bennet said, holding a spoonful of grapefruit.
"Father!" Kitty said and scrambled from her chair. Elizabeth heard no more because she rushed up stairs. Could this be so? In the sickroom Dr. Hudson stood in the morning sun, her father, blinking weakly next to him.
"Papa!" Elizabeth rushed to his bedside. His eyes met hers and her tears flowed. One side of his face drooped unnaturally, and he couldn't speak. But he was here. Jane and her other sisters stood tearfully at the door. Somewhere on the steps clattered Mama.
"Miss Bennet," the doctor bowed to her. "Might I speak with you and your eldest sister privately?"
Elizabeth nodded and she and Jane followed the physician out of the room, letting her mother and other sisters crowd to their father's bedside.
"Oh, Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet's voice called, instantly dissolving into tears. "My poor husband!"
Dr. Hudson's smile faded once they left the sickroom. "I wish to speak to you without your mother present," he said. Elizabeth nodded. "As I suspected, your father suffered an apoplexy. We do not yet know the extent of damage, but as you see, he is currently conscious. I believe he can hear us, even if he cannot respond. I must warn you. His facilities may be significantly reduced and his consciousness may not last."
Elizabeth and Jane met with uneasy eyes.
"What can be done, Dr.?" Jane asked.
The doctor sighed. "We can only wait and see. And keep him calm. No shrieking, no violent scenes of tears." As he said this, he glanced toward the closed door from which female voices raised and lowered. "And by this, I mean your mother. It will be up to you two to keep her in check."
Elizabeth nodded.
"Might he continue to improve?" Jane asked.
The doctor frowned. "He may, but he may not. There is no typical course in a case like this."
A week after Christmas, Darcy paused for a moment before he ran out to dodge the cold drops of sleet that came down upon the busy street in London. It was no day for man nor beast, but horses and carriages packed the street and it seemed as though every Christian soul in town crowded under the overhang of the building to avoid getting drenched.
He had no choice but to brave the weather if he were to move. He sighed, adjusted his hat, and stepped out into the street. He was immediately hit in the face by stinging snow. He wished only to return to the Darcy townhouse, sit in front of a roaring fire, and have a warm glass of cognac.
Darcy stopped short by a figure ahead of him. It looked like Miss Jane Bennet!
It couldn't be.
He peered again.
It unmistakably was Miss Jane. Even wrapped in a pelisse, her face half-shielded by a bonnet, he would know the blond curls and heart-shaped face anywhere. What could she be doing here in town? Darcy's heart raced. Might her sister be here as well? He glanced around but saw only a handsome middle-aged woman at her side. At just that moment, she turned around to see him and her eyes flew open.
"Mr. Darcy!"
She'd seen him. He couldn't slink away unnoticed as he might have wished.
"Why, Miss Bennet! What a surprise to see you here in town!"
She reddened prettily and curtsied, clearly as embarrassed as he. Her manners did her credit.
"I am staying with my Aunt Gardiner from Gracechurch Street. Mr. Darcy, allow me to introduce my aunt. We have just left an art exhibit."
"How do you do?" Darcy bowed politely.
"Ah, Mr. Darcy, how good to meet you," Jane's aunt smiled knowingly. "You have recently been to Hertfordshire, yes?"
Darcy nodded affirmation.
"And how did you like it? There is much beauty in the county," the aunt said and peered at him closely. Darcy had a niggling sensation the beauty she spoke of was not the naturescape.
"Yes, lovely country. It is just you, Miss Bennet, here in town? No sisters have accompanied you?"
Jane shook her head.
"And how does your family fare? Pray, how is your father?"
Jane tried to smile again, but her lips trembled, and Darcy's heart hurt for her. "I apologize, I do not wish to upset you. Please let's step out of the weather." Darcy took her arm and guided her and her aunt under the building facade, a large stone edifice that was crowded with people. "Allow me to get a cab and escort you both home."
"No," Jane said, but Darcy already raised his hand and hailed a coach.
"Please, it is the very least I can do." Darcy helped Jane and then her aunt to alight them safely into the coach. "Gracechurch Street," he told the driver and settled across from them.
Jane smiled with gratitude and dabbed her eyes." This is very kind of you."
Darcy shook his head. "I do not wish to make women cry, and when I am foolish enough to do so, I insist on escorting them out of inclement weather. It's a rule I live by."
The ladies both smiled at each other.
"My father has improved a bit. He cannot speak, but the physician thinks he can hear us. A new man has come from town to treat him."
"That is excellent news!" Darcy smiled, eager to hear more."And your family has faith in your physician? He is doing his job well?"
Mrs. Gardiner glanced at him again. He had an odd feeling she could almost see into his thoughts.
"Yes, I believe so," Jane said.
"Of course he is," Darcy said. "And how are your sisters?"
"All are well, thank you."
Darcy smiled politely. "I do hope Miss Elizabeth is finding enough books to entertain her."
Jane's light eyebrows rose. "I believe she received a new tome for Christmas from aunt and uncle."
"Yes, she did," the aunt said.
"Very good." He realized how eager he was to learn more about Elizabeth. Not that he could ask without causing suspicion and the aunt was already examining him closely.
Jane's smooth brow furrowed with concern. "Have you seen Miss Caroline Bingley?" Jane asked.
Darcy was not surprised at the question. He knew the conversation would inevitably turn to the Bingleys.
"Not overmuch since our return to town. I have seen Mr. Bingley on occasion," Darcy said and immediately wished he had said nothing.
"Oh," Jane said, looking uncomfortable. "I trust he is well."
Darcy nodded. "He is the same Bingley." Why had he mentioned him? He wished he could eat his words. He could see the discomfort Bingley's name caused her. Perhaps he had been mistaken and Miss Jane esteemed Bingley more than he realized.
"Please give them both my regards, if you will," she said carefully. Darcy nodded, impressed she was so gracious in the face of what he knew must have been a painful rejection. Darcy's conscience needled him for a moment.
"Of course."
A look passed between Miss Bennet and himself. He was tempted to say that Bingley still esteemed her, and, as a matter of fact, he moped about London constantly mentioning her name, but that would not do. He paused.
The coach turned a corner. "Gracechurch Street, sir," the driver called.
Arrived already? He would have liked to ask her more questions about her family. Darcy glanced around, not well acquainted with this neighborhood. The tidy homes were wreathed with snow and seemed pleasant, despite the weather. Why had he somehow thought the Bennet London relations were inferior?
Darcy stood and helped the ladies down from the carriage. Jane curtsied and he bowed, smiling back with genuine regard. Perhaps he'd been too hasty to draw an opinion of Jane Bennet as indifferent to Bingley. Her manners were quite excellent indeed.
Jane's aunt whispered something quietly to her and she nodded.
"Mr. Darcy, please do feel free to call on us, if you please."
Darcy smiled. "Thank you, Miss Bennet. Perhaps I will."