Chapter 6

As was his custom, Mr. Bennet sorted through the morning post at the breakfast table. He opened one from his brother Gardiner. The request to inform his wife of the Bingley's death was something he had wished to postpone. As he contemplated ways to delay, Mrs. Bennet's shrill voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Mr. Bennet, I am extremely displeased that Jane has not yet seen Mr. Bingley. I am certain she could have called upon Miss Bingley. How is she to secure him if she does not see him?"

His wife's assertion made Mr. Bennet roll his eyes. Looking around the table at his three daughters, he resigned to the inevitable. He stood and said, "When you are finished with your meal, my dear, I would like you to join me in my book room."

Bennet left his wife sputtering a protest as to why he could not speak in front of the girls, but he knew that she would be curious enough to obey him.

Once inside his private retreat, Mr. Bennet braced himself for the storm of emotions that were to come. Within five minutes, there was a knock at the door, followed by its opening, and his wife entered, handkerchief waving like a flag in the wind.

"What is so pressing that could not be discussed in front of the girls?" Her agitation was obvious. "Has something happened to Jane or my brother?"

"Mrs. Bennet, please sit down," he ordered calmly. "Both Jane and our brother Gardiner are fine."

When she had taken a seat, Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth, but her husband raised a hand to stop her. "What I have to say will likely come as a great shock to you."

He took a deep breath and continued, "I have it from Gardiner that Mr. and Miss Bingley were killed in a carriage accident."

"Killed? Both of them, dead?" Mrs. Bennet stared at her husband as if he were mad. "How can that be? Surely we would have heard of it. When did it happen?"

"Apparently it was not put in the newspapers correctly. It happened two days before Christmas."

"Why did Jane not say something?" she demanded.

"She did not know about the accident until she reached London. As to why she did not tell us, I cannot say."

Mrs. Bennet was silent for several minutes while in deep thought.

Surprised by his wife's lack of hysterics, Mr. Bennet waited, not knowing what to expect.

Resolute, she stood and said, "It is a good thing that she was not engaged to Mr. Bingley. Jane will not have to go into mourning as she looks so very ill in black. I will write to her and to my brother. Edward must introduce her to his richest associates, so that she will be able to find someone to marry. I am certain that with her beauty it would not be long before she will be asked for a courtship, at the very least."

Mr. Bennet relaxed back into his chair. He very much wished to laugh at his wife's absurdity, but he did not wish to upset her, since she had come up with a solution without histrionics. Smiling, he watched his wife leave his room, calling for Hill to fetch her writing desk.

Three weeks after Elizabeth arrived in London, she was leaving the library where she had searched for a book Darcy requested she find, when a loud ruckus came from the foyer. She hastened toward the sound as a strident female voice could be heard, arguing with Carson, the butler.

"I demand to see my nephew!"

Carson kept his voice calm and low. "The master is not at home to anyone."

"That is ridiculous," the lady exclaimed, raising her voice even more. "I have heard that he is ill and have come to take over his care."

Elizabeth took a deep breath before ordering, "Madam, you will keep your voice down."

Stunned into momentary silence, the elderly woman stared at Elizabeth. Dressed in old-fashioned finery in dark jewel tones, her appearance reminded Elizabeth of a peacock, feathers and all.

Biting her tongue as not to laugh at the blustery person, Elizabeth stood next to Carson and whispered in his ear. He nodded and moved toward the footman at the door.

"Who are you to order the staff of this house?" The woman was turning a nasty shade of purple.

Thinking to calm her, Elizabeth replied, "I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Bennet?" The woman sneered. "I know of a Bennet family in Hertfordshire. My parson is to inherit the family home when the father dies."

Elizabeth nodded without speaking.

"What are you doing here?" the lady questioned demandingly. "I am certain that my nephew would not lower himself to invite you here."

Ignoring the insulting remark, Elizabeth said, "I believe you were told that Mr. Darcy is not seeing visitors."

"Do you not know who I am?" At the shake of Elizabeth's head, the woman lifted her head, so that she looked down her nose and replied in a tone that seemed to expect awe from her audience, "I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Mr. Darcy's aunt. You will allow me to attend him."

"To be honest, it would not matter to me if you were Queen Charlotte herself," Elizabeth said, scorn tingeing her voice. "The doctor's orders are strict, no visitors."

"You will allow me to see him, or I will call the authorities!" her ladyship shouted.

"Keep your voice down, or I will have these men assist you to the door," Elizabeth growled while nodding to the two footmen who had joined Carson.

As the three servants moved toward her, Lady Catherine raised her cane and commanded them to stop.

"Catherine, lower your voice!" The earl of Matlock entered the room followed by Colonel Fitzwilliam who came up from behind her and took her cane. "What is the meaning of you barging in like this?"

"Mrs. Carrington-Smythe wrote to me," she said, her voice slightly quieter. "She saw Dr. Pritchard coming and going and has not seen my nephew for several days. Her maid questioned one of the housemaids here. She told her that the master was ill."

Staring imperiously at her brother and Colonel Fitzwilliam, she demanded, "Why was I not informed? I should have been the first to know since I am nearly his closest relation, and he is my daughter's betrothed."

Elizabeth's heart nearly froze at the woman's declaration. Could it be that her hopes were to be shattered so soon?

"Lady Catherine, you are sorely mistaken," the colonel replied confidently before his father could. "Darcy is not nor ever will be engaged to Anne. He has already pledged himself to another."

"It cannot be," her ladyship objected loudly.

Grasping the woman's arm, the earl pulled her into the library and closed the door. Even then the lady's voice carried through the solid wood.

"Pay her no mind, Miss Elizabeth," Colonel Fitzwilliam said softly. "She is greatly self-deceived. She wishes to have control over Pemberley along with her estate, Rosings. After trying unsuccessfully to badger her sister, Darcy's mother, into making an engagement between my two cousins, she waited until Aunt and Uncle Darcy died and put pressure on Darcy to agree to the so-called arrangement. Nothing my cousin has said has made a difference either."

"I thought that my mother was stubborn in her opinions," Elizabeth said as she shook her head. "Will your father be able to convince her to leave?"

"He shall persuade her to leave for now, but we will have to be on guard because she is not easily dissuaded."

"What do you think she will do?" Elizabeth asked, suddenly nervous.

"I am not sure, but I know that I will be putting more precautions in place."

It was just then that the two heard footsteps on the stair. Turning they saw Georgiana hurrying toward them.

"Elizabeth, come quickly," the girl panted. "Fitzwilliam is frantic after hearing the shouting. I tried to calm him, but he is desperate to see you."

"Excuse me, Colonel, I must go." Elizabeth hastened to Darcy's room.

Upon entering his room, Elizabeth watched the nurse preventing him from rising.

"Mr. Darcy, what is the meaning of this?" Elizabeth scolded lightly. "You know you are not allowed to leave your bed as yet."

Relief flooded Darcy's countenance. He relaxed once more against the pillows. "I heard shouting, and I feared for your safety."

Nodding to the nurse, who returned to her chair on the other side of the room, Elizabeth sat down next to the bed. Laying her hand on his, she said, "I was in no danger. The colonel came, and he has brought his father. The noise you heard was merely the bluster of your aunt Lady Catherine."

"Why is she here? I thought that she swore never to darken our door again since our marriage."

"She came to take over your care." Elizabeth smirked at the presumption of the woman.

"I hope you told her otherwise."

"Indeed, I did, thus all of her shouting," she answered. "I was ready to have Carson and two footmen escort her to her carriage, but your cousin and uncle arrived. When the earl took her to the library, I left the situation to him."

"I see that I need not have worried," Darcy said sheepishly. "I am sorry to have reacted so."

"I do hope that you will remember that you are not the only one in this house who can help and protect me." Elizabeth patted his hand and smiled. "Besides, I am capable of handling most situations."

"I shall try, dear Lizzy," he replied with a sheepish grin.

For the next several weeks, things continued much in the same way. Mr. Darcy's wounds were healing well, to everyone's satisfaction. When the bandages had been removed from his head and face, his valet had been able to shave him. He had only a small scar above his left eye.

Upon examining Darcy, Dr. Pritchard said that with the help of his man, he could spend a short time in a chair, as long as he did not put any weight on the broken leg.

This news was met with great enthusiasm by Darcy. A comfortable chair was brought in for his use. With the help of his valet, Peters, Mr. Darcy moved from his bed and was seated with a padded stool to rest his injured leg upon. The exertion caused him to perspire. He did not speak for several minutes as he caught his breath.

When at last he did speak, Darcy remarked to Elizabeth who was seated close to him, "Are you certain you did not keep moving my chair? I feel as if I have walked for miles."

"It is not surprising since you have not been on your own feet for many weeks now. Dr. Pritchard tells me that if you continue to move a little each day, your strength will return."

"That is good news, for I feel as weak as a newborn kitten at this point."

Mrs. Whitehead, who had been observing the proceedings, asked, "How do you feel other than the weakness? Are you experiencing any pain?"

Darcy pondered the question for a few moments before replying, "Other than a bit of stiffness, I felt no pain at all."

"Very good!" The nurse smiled and returned to the other side of the room.

Watching the nurse walk away, Darcy let out a breath in relief that the woman seemed to think the way he felt was good enough for the time being. He turned toward Elizabeth.

"Pray, why are you smiling?"

Meeting his eyes, Elizabeth answered, "How could I not smile? When I first arrived, your condition was quite precarious. Now, here you are sitting in a chair, shaved and without yards of cloth wrapped around your head. It all makes me very happy."

Joining the rest of the party for dinner that evening, Elizabeth excitedly told of Mr. Darcy's progress. The man himself had insisted that she have her meal in the dining parlour. He told her he felt guilty for taking up so much of her time. She agreed upon extracting a promise for him that he would eat well and rest.

The colonel and Georgiana were quite enthused over the news. They asked her when they might see Darcy, since due to Darcy's fatigue, the doctor had not allowed them to visit him for the last three days. They were pleased to hear Elizabeth's light laughter as she told them she would see how well he had rested before she could give them an answer.

Although Jane was pleased for the Darcys and Elizabeth, she remained relatively quiet during the meal and did not seem to notice when her sister and Georgiana left the table.

"Miss Bennet, is there something troubling you?" Richard asked in concern.

Startled at his address, she looked up. "No, not exactly. I am more puzzled by my thoughts."

"Do you wish to share them with me?"

As servants began to remove things from the table, Jane stood and suggested softly, "Perhaps we could go somewhere a bit more private."

"Let us use the library," the colonel suggested and offered his arm to escort her there.

Once in the library, Jane sat in a comfortable chair. Colonel Fitzwilliam took a chair opposite her after leaving the door ajar. Fidgeting with her sleeve for a few moments of silence, she cleared her throat. "What I have to say may sound very odd, but I feel I can trust you not to judge me too harshly."

"Of course, I shall not," he assured her quickly.

Taking a deep breath, Jane began, "I was listening to Lizzy tonight. Her happiness over Mr. Darcy's recovery so far made me think about my own feelings about Mr. Bingley. I know that if he had not been killed and had returned to Hertfordshire, I would have entertained his courtship and proposal, had he made one.

"But now that I see the love that my sister has for Mr. Darcy – for there is no other explanation for her enthusiasm this evening, except that she truly loves him – I began to examine my own heart. I found that I would likely not have been so diligent in my care of Mr. Bingley, had he been the one only injured." Jane wiped a tear from her cheek. "I am quite ashamed of myself."

Leaning forward, Colonel Fitzwilliam laid a hand on hers. "There is nothing of which to be ashamed. Your feelings are yours, and you are being honest with yourself. I admit to being surprised, but I will not condemn you for your admission."

"But I should be ashamed because I would have accepted him. I would have been content, I suppose. However, now that seems empty sentiment, being nothing like what I see in my sister, or in your cousin the few times I have seen him interact with Elizabeth. How can I be so fickle and envious at the same time?"

"Miss Bennet, do not be so upset with yourself. Take time to let these new emotions settle. Perhaps they are just part of your grieving," he said, while unconsciously stroking her hand.

Jane stared at their joined hands. The feeling that came over her at the moment was so pleasant, so enjoyable that she could not bring herself to pull away. How different his touch is compared to the few times that Mr. Bingley had held my hand! Heat rose to her cheeks as her heart raced.

When the colonel noticed her flushed face, he realised that he still had possession of Jane's hand. He hastened to release her hand and apologised, "Forgive me, Miss Bennet, I have overstepped."

"There is nothing to forgive, Colonel," she answered, clasping her hands together. "You have been a great comfort and friend. I shall do as you say and contemplate these new emotions. I would not wish to make a mistake."

With that statement, Jane stood and excused herself.

The colonel rose as she did. He resisted the urge to watch her go. It would do him no good. He went to the small cabinet near the back of the room and removed a decanter of brandy and poured a large serving. Moving to stand in front of the fireplace, he sipped the beverage slowly.

A glimmer of hope would not be repressed. She might not have truly loved Bingley! Her soft hand had felt so perfect in mine. Colonel Fitzwilliam had expected her to pull away, instead she had blushed. He wished that he had the courage to find out the reason, but alas, all of the other reasons he should not came to the forefront once again. Taking another, larger swallow of the brandy, he decided that a look into the household accounts might be a good distraction.

The front parlour of Longbourn saw the arrival of several members of the militia. Lydia and Kitty enjoyed the attention of Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham while Mary tried hard to converse with the shy Mr. Sanderson. Mrs. Bennet attempted to converse with them all with varied success.

It was Lydia who finally suggested a walk in the gardens since it was a clear day although very cold. The officers agreed with alacrity. Less inclined to walk out on a winter's day, Mary demurred. Sanderson decided to stay as well, since he knew he would be the odd one out.

As she watched the foursome don their outer garments, Mrs. Bennet sighed with pleasure. The possibility of two of her daughters in courtship with soldiers gladdened her heart. Now if only Jane and Lizzy would catch husbands, I would be utterly content. If my most troublesome daughter had only accepted Mr. Collins, Jane would be my only concern.

Mrs. Bennet lifted her tea cup to her lips while trying to listen to what Mary and Mr. Sanderson were saying. All that she could overhear was the officer's occasional stammered word.

As a routine developed, Jane spent a great deal of time with Georgiana and the colonel. Even though Colonel Fitzwilliam frequently had to report to his commanding officer, he stayed at Darcy House part of every day and most nights. After Mrs. Annesley returned from her visit, Georgiana began her lessons again in earnest.

More and more, Jane enjoyed the company of the colonel. She had not understood her younger sisters' enchantment with the militia officers, but now the eldest Bennet daughter experienced an unusual attraction to this one soldier. By no means was he as handsome as Mr. Bingley had been nor as cheerful. However, he spoke to her as an equal in sense and conversation, and never criticised her negative thoughts.

His constant encouragement to examine her thoughts and feelings helped her understand that she had been hiding behind her relentlessly optimistic outlook. I have never allowed myself to see the reality of things, so that I could guard myself from pain. I did not see that pain can be a good thing. It can keep one from greater harm if you pay attention to it.

Smiling to herself, Jane walked to the window of the drawing room where she had been seated since she finished breakfast. Snow was falling and covering the rather dirty winter street outside.

"I have always loved the snow in London," a deep masculine voice said behind her. "The city is much less dreary dressed in white."

Jane turned and smiled at the colonel. "I was just thinking that very thing."

"Would you care to take a walk with me?"

"I would be delighted. I just hope I have the proper outer garments," Jane answered quickly.

"I am certain that there is something warm for you. Georgiana has enough cloaks and muffs to clothe a regiment." the colonel grinned as he exaggerated.

"I hope that she will not object to me borrowing them."

"I am positive that she will not." He paused and added, "But I can go ask her, if it would make you more comfortable."

"I do not wish to disturb her studies. I trust that you know your cousin's wishes."

"I suppose I should summon a maid to accompany us." Fitzwilliam pulled the bell cord.

Carson arrived within seconds. "What is it that you need, Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

"Miss Bennet and I are going to take a walk. She will need to borrow some of Georgiana's outerwear, and a maid to accompany us."

"Very good, sir," Carson said. "Please give me a moment to send a footman to fetch Hattie, and then I shall bring Miss Bennet a warm cloak and bonnet."

Once they started their walk, little was spoken between Jane and the colonel. The snow fell more thickly now and muffled the noise of the city.

Thankful for the warm garments, Jane did not want to return to the house. After many moments of contemplation, she finally spoke. "I am pleased that you thought to suggest a walk. Lizzy is the one who usually indulges in a stroll everyday, but I rarely do. I think I understand the appeal now."

"I, too, rarely walk for the pleasure of it. Being a soldier, there always seemed to be enough marching, so that I did not realise the enjoyment to be had in a stroll with a pleasant companion."

Turning her head to hide her blush, Jane wondered why the compliment pleased her so much. Mr. Bingley had been generous with his praise of her person, but as she thought about them, none had seemed as sincere as the colonel's statement.

They walked in silence a few more minutes, when they heard a cry from a vendor. "Hot roasted chestnuts! I have hot roasted chestnuts!"

"Shall I buy some for us?" the colonel asked.

"Yes, that sounds delightful."

Colonel Fitzwilliam guided them across the street. When they arrived in front of the young man's cart, he ordered three portions. After handing one to Jane first and then to the maid, he began to eat his with relish.

Between mouthfuls, he said, "There is something very satisfying about eating hot chestnuts on a snowy day."

"Indeed," Jane replied as she nibbled daintily on a nut.

Over two months had passed since the two eldest Bennet sisters had arrived at Darcy House. The patient was up a few times a day first in a wheeled chair and after a time with the aid of crutches and under supervision. His sitting room became his haven, especially when Elizabeth joined him. They read to each other, often debating the meaning of some passage or another they had just finished. Their new understanding gave them both a deep contentment and joy.

However, Mr. Darcy still suffered from nightmares which caused her to spend a great deal of time calming him. It was one such night that found Elizabeth so exhausted that she fell asleep, leaning her head upon her arm that rested on the bed beside the patient.

Darcy awoke and looked around the room. He was not sure why he was in his bed, or why there was a strange woman on the other side of his chamber. As he moved his arm, his hand came in contact with something soft. He glanced down and saw a surprising and lovely sight. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was asleep before him.

Darcy smiled at the pleasurable picture she made in repose. Trying to think of the reason she might be in his room, albeit with a maid or someone there as well. It came to him in a flash. Of course, he must have been ill, and as they were engaged, she would insist upon helping to nurse him.

Reaching out his hand to lightly caress her hair, Darcy heard her hum and saw her open her eyes.

"I am so sorry," Elizabeth sat back in her chair and rubbed her neck. "I did not mean to fall asleep. Do you need something?"

"You do not need to apologise, my dear." He examined her face and commented, "You do look fatigued. Have you been ill too?"

"No, I did not sleep well because of your nightmares."

"Nightmares, I do not understand."

Wondering what to say, Elizabeth finally explained, "You have had many bad dreams since your accident."

"So I have not been ill, but injured?"

Nodding her head, she asked, "What do you remember?"

"I remember going to Longbourn on the day after Christmas. You accepted my offer of marriage. Your family wished us well. Then ..." He scratched his head and looked confused. "I do not remember anything else."

Darcy met her eyes and saw sadness and slight embarrassment on her face. "We are engaged, are we not?" His agitation became evident.

Laying her hand on his, Elizabeth did not hesitate to reassure him. "Of course, we are. You were badly injured and did not recall anything about the accident."

"How badly was I injured?"

"You received a concussion, several cuts and bruises, and a broken arm and leg. You have just recently had the splints removed and been able to move to your sitting room with the help of your valet and crutches."

"I must have been in bed for a long time." He shook his head while trying to comprehend what had happened to him.

"It has been over two months, sir," Elizabeth told him simply.

Glancing across the room, Darcy once more noticed the older woman and that she was now listening to their conversation. "Elizabeth, will you tell me who that lady is."

"That is Mrs. Whitehead, one of your nurses. Either she or Mrs. Simons has been here all of the time."

"Ah," he replied as he nodded. "Have you been here the entire time I have been injured?"

"I arrived as soon as I could after I heard, so I have been here most of the time."

Mrs. Whitehead, having heard the conversation, came to the bed and asked, "Are you ready for some breakfast, Mr. Darcy?"

"I believe that I am," he answered quickly.

Turning to Elizabeth, the nurse said, "Please ring for the valet, as I believe that my patient would have need of his services. I suggest that you go to the breakfast table. You may return when you are finished."

Reluctantly, Elizabeth rose. "Enjoy your repast, sir." She took his hand and squeezed it.

Lifting it to his lips, Darcy kissed it and then looked at it in puzzlement. "Where is the ring I gave you? I think I remember giving it to you, Did I not?"

At this direct question, she could not lie. "You did not."

Frowning, Darcy said, "When you see Richard, please ask him to see me when he is free. He can open the safe and retrieve it for me."

"Very well," she agreed, smiling and left the room.

Later that same day, a footman found Elizabeth in the family parlour, visiting with Jane and Georgiana while Colonel Fitzwilliam was with Mr. Darcy.

"Miss Elizabeth," the young man intoned. "The master wishes for your company in his sitting room."

"Has he fallen ill again?" Elizabeth asked as she stood.

"No, ma'am, he just asked for you to come."

"Thank you." Turning to the other ladies, she excused herself.

When she reached the door to Mr. Darcy's sitting room, it was opened by the colonel. "Ah, Miss Elizabeth, Darcy was eager for you to arrive. I will see you later."

Inside Mr. Darcy was sitting upon the small sofa in front of a brightly burning fireplace. He looked and smiled broadly. "Do come sit with me, dearest."

Hastening to do his bidding, Elizabeth returned his smile as she took the place next to him.

"I have something for you." He reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a ring set with a single pearl surrounded by tiny garnets. Lifting her hand he slipped it on her finger. Heaving a happy sigh, he said, "That is just as it should have been for at least two months."

"It is lovely." Elizabeth watched as the firelight seemed to bring the red stones to life while causing the pearl to glow.

"It came to my mother from my father's mother and was handed down through the generations to be given to the betrothed of the first son. Only change ever made to it was to add a new pearl. I had it commissioned as soon as I returned to Town. I am so happy to be able to continue the tradition." Darcy took her hand and kissed it.

"I shall treasure it," Elizabeth promised as she rejoiced in the fact that he still wanted to be engaged to her. It gave her hope of his full recovery and that she might become his wife.