Title: Miss Bingley's Herbal Tea
Setting: Regency
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/17 (PIP)
Blurb: Mr Darcy doesn't want to drink Miss Bingley's new disgusting, sketchy, ancient-super-secret-recipe herbal tea. Lizzy does instead.
I would be very happy if you could let me know about any spelling or grammar mistakes :) Thanks and enjoy the chapter!
In her many years of service as Netherfield's housekeeper, Mrs Nicholls had never seen anything so scandalous. Oh, she had known that the Bingleys would bring turmoil to her house, she had known it since the start! What with that Miss Bingley always pestering the staff and that Mr Hurst soaking up the wine cellar and that Mr Darcy only answering with monosyllables.
For something like this to happen! For another disgrace to transpire under her roof, right when Miss Jane had started to recover from her cold. Her friend Mrs Hill would not be pleased in the least: Miss Jane and Miss Lizzy had always been her favourite Bennet daughters.
Mrs Nicholls kept staring out of the window at the man proceeding toward the house. Forgetting herself for a moment, she finally expressed her displeasure with an imprecation that made the two maids accompanying her blush.
"Mrs Nicholls!" They cried in shock.
At that, Mrs Nicholls shook herself out of her stupor and regained possession of her wits. "Forgive me, girls. Now, we must be quick. Anna, go fetch the smelling salts and alert Miss Bingley. Sallie, send for the apothecary. I will go directly to meet them!"
And with a last glance out of the window, they all sprinted in different directions.
While Mrs Nicholls and the maids sprinted in different directions, Mr Darcy was walking through Netherfield's doors.
"Bingley!" He shouted to the halls. Then, to a passing footman: "Fetch the apothecary. Now!"
The scared footman rushed out of the door, leaving Mr Darcy alone.
Well, not exactly so.
Mr Darcy lowered his gaze towards his precious load: in his arms, he was holding a barely conscious Elizabeth Bennet. She was quivering, trembling, as if in the grip of a fever. He had to tighten his hold on her to prevent her from falling. This seemed to revive her a little and she began to mumble something.
Mr Darcy lowered his head in an attempt to understand her better. He felt her warm breath on his ear while she murmured: "Please… Oh, please…"
He straightened his head with a start, desperately forcing himself to not speculate on what those words might mean.
Mr Bingley and Mrs Nicholls both arrived at that moment.
"Good God, Darcy!" Exclaimed Mr Bingley upon seeing Miss Elizabeth unconscious. "What has happened?"
"She just… Fainted."
Oh, she is at least alive. The Lord be thanked! Thought Mrs Nicholls,"Mr Darcy, please, we should move her in the drawing-room, there is a settee—"
Without waiting another moment, Mr Darcy brought Elizabeth to the adjacent room. He laid her on the settee with all the gentleness that he could muster but then didn't retreat.
He could not leave her side. Elizabeth seemed so vulnerable, so fragile at that moment and his heart was caught in the painful morse of apprehension. He stroked her dishevelled hair, remembering how not a quarter of an hour before, he had been passionately engaged in freeing her curls from their pins.
His lingering annoyed Mrs Nicholls, who shoved him aside as soon as Anna brought the smelling salts. "Here, Miss Bennet, here." Said Mrs Nicholls taking his rightful place and agitating the salts under her nose.
Bingley put a hand on his shoulder. "Darcy, what has happened?"
He clenched his fist. By God, what was he going to tell them?
"I do not know." He finally declared. "I was taking a stroll in the park when I found Miss Elizabeth collapsed on the ground near the old elm." He could not help slightly blushing at those words: disguise was his abhorrence, but… "I brought her here and—"
Elizabeth whimpered.
Darcy stopped speaking and turned towards her: she seemed to be regaining consciousness. She was breathing with more ease now and even if unfocused, her eyes were open.
Mr Darcy quickly kneeled by her side and took her hand in his. When her gaze settled on him, it did with an intensity that he had come to dread, adore and recognize in the last half an hour. It could only mean one thing.
He started to cough violently, just in time to cover her moans.
Miss Bingley entered the room at that moment and hearing him cough immediately forgot all about Elizabeth's conditions: "Oh, Mr Darcy, are you feeling alright? I shall fetch you a glass of water. You!" She pointed her finger at one of the maids. "Go and fetch a glass of water for Mr Darcy."
Mrs Nicholls rolled her eyes but nodded at the maid to go. "Mr Bingley, sir, Miss Lizzy has fainted again. I think we shall better bring her to her room and alert Miss Bennet."
Mr Bingley did not even have the opportunity to agree, because Mr Darcy immediately stopped coughing and took Miss Elizabeth into his arms. Mr Bingley watched as Mrs Nicholls, his sister and the maid all followed Darcy and Elizabeth upstairs. He decided to stay where he was, trying to make sense of what was happening.
A few minutes later, Mr Darcy and Miss Bingley returned, having left Elizabeth in her room. They appeared to be arguing.
"You should not have brought her upstairs, Mr Darcy. It is not proper for a man to see a lady's room. A footman could have done that!"
"Should I have left her unconscious in the woods as well, for fear of impropriety, or was my behaviour acceptable then?" He snapped.
Mr Bingley knew that that was the moment to intervene. "Caroline, would you go alert Louisa and Hurst of what has happened?
"But… Charles… Surely, I am more needed here."
"No indeed. And you could also go visit the Miss Bennets to see if there is anything they need."
"But—"
Bingley gently led her out of the room and closed the door behind her.
With a relieved sigh, he turned to Darcy. "How is Miss Elizabeth?"
Darcy had retired near a window, arms crossed behind his back: from there he could see the top of the old elm, where he had met her in the garden. "I do not know, Bingley. I do not know."
Now that Elizabeth was safe at Netherfield and the apothecary was on his way to her, Mr Darcy could not help but look back at the events that had brought to the fainting.
He could not make sense of it. What had happened, exactly? He had followed her outside but when he had reached her Miss Elizabeth had seemed unwell so he had offered her his help. And then… And then… He covered his face with one hand, feeling the memory of what had happened resurge in full force.
Bingley studied his friend's flustered expression. "Come, Darcy. I believe you require something strong."
Darcy let himself be led to Bingley's study and before he could realize it, he was sitting on the armchairs near the fireplace with a glass of whisky in their hands.
Bingley interrupted the silence. "Is Miss Elizabeth still unconscious?"
"When I last saw her." When they shoved me out of her room. "Mrs Nicholls is with her." That spiteful woman!
"And you say that you met her in the park?"
"She had already fainted." He repeated mechanically.
"Perhaps Miss Elizabeth caught Miss Bennet's cold while tending to her?"
Mr Darcy startled. Could it be possible? Could the Bennet sisters both be afflicted by the same mysterious illness? He felt the tips of his ears becoming red at the idea and barely managed to say: "I do not think that is the case."
"Then what might have happened? Perhaps she hadn't eaten enough at breakfast. Or the sun was too strong? No, there are far too many clouds for that…" Mr Bingley paused, searching for other possibilities. "Good Lord, Darcy! Do you think she was… Attacked?"
Mr Darcy jumped to his feet. "Absolutely not!"
Seeing Bingley's surprised expression, Mr Darcy fell back in his seat. "She has probably caught Miss Bennet's cold while tending to her."
"But you have just said— Ah, it doesn't matter. I am sure that Mr Jones will discover what affected the lady." There was another long pause, only interrupted by the ticking of a clock, before Bingley dared to ask: "Darcy. Did you truly meet Miss Elizabeth by chance?"
Darcy stared at his friend. Bingley's bluntness had surprised him. Without answering, he jumped to his feet again and started pacing the room. "Of course!" He said at last. "Are you perhaps suggesting otherwise?"
"You know what this is going to look like."
"No, I do not know, Bingley. Enlighten me."
Bingley sighed. "It will seem like you had a romantic assignation in the park. Don't glare at me, Darcy, I know that you would never do something like that. But other than that, you carried her in your arms all the way from the old elm to the house. Someone else may have seen you, other than us, Mrs Nicholls and the maids. Some gardener, perhaps." Darcy startled. "The Miss Bennets are under my care at the moment and I will ask you to protect Miss Elizabeth's reputation, should the occasion arise."
Darcy stopped pacing. Once more, their meeting passed before his eyes but this time it didn't bring pleasant tingling through his spine. This time it chilled him to the bone. Gardener or no gardener there would be only one outcome to the clandestine encounter: marriage. That was why Elizabeth had acted the way she had acted. She had meant to compromise him. She was just like them. The realization broke his heart.
What a fool he had been. Worry and… and lust had blinded him for a moment and now he would be shackled for the rest of his life to a fortune hunter.
"Do not worry, Bingley. I will do whatever in my power to protect her reputation."
Mr Bingley seemed relieved and nodded in appreciation.
Mr Darcy went back to his armchair, where he was left meditating on the great pain that a scheming woman can bestow on the unprotected heart of a foolish man.
Mr Darcy was not entirely wrong in suspecting a schemed compromise but had accused the wrong scheming woman.
To understand what he was mistaken about, the reader will need to take a step back and eavesdrop on part of a conversation that had taken place the night before in Netherfield's most luxurious apartment.
"I will offer him a cup of the tea at breakfast. Sarah recommended to stay close to him for a couple of hours and then—" Miss Bingley was interrupted by Mrs Hurst's disheartened sigh. "I assure you that this is going to work!" She protested.
"Oh, Caroline." Mrs Hurst was starting to feel quite annoyed. Caroline could be so stubborn and unpleasant at times. They had been having that same conversation every day, many times a day, for two weeks, ever since Mrs Hurst had discovered that Caroline had ordered that herbal tea from London.
"It will work. He shall drink the tea and then—"
Mrs Hurst was starting to feel really annoyed. "And then what? You are not even sure of what is going to happen."
"It does not signify. If it worked for Sarah Alderton, it's going to work for me."
Lady Sarah Birmingham, née Alderton, was a school friend of Miss Bingley. Not particularly brilliant, not particularly pretty, very rich but from a family of vulgar origins, she had made a sudden and inexplicable match with the most sought-after bachelor of the season, who until the very day before had notoriously detested her.
When pressed by Miss Bingley on the matter, Sarah had only smiled enigmatically and scribbled the address of a little tea shop on a piece of paper, before handing it to her. "In case you ever have any problems with that Mr Darcy of yours."
Miss Bingley was indeed having problems with her Mr Darcy. After a whole month of living at Netherfield together, dining at her family table together, going to soirees and social engagements together, strolling together in the park and disdaining the neighbourhood together, he had yet to propose.
And what was more, he was taking a liking to Eliza Bennet!
Ever since the two Bennet sisters had come to stay at Netherfield, Mr Darcy had been showing remarked attention to Miss Eliza and her "fine eyes", culminating in his request to dance a reel.
"Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?"
Miss Bingley had been sitting at the piano at that moment and only years of strict music lessons had prevented her from crashing her hands on the keynotes.
That Mr Darcy would ask Miss Eliza to dance a reel was unacceptable. Thank goodness, the girl had been too stupid to understand Mr Darcy's subtle request and had responded with an incomprehensible witticism! But who knew what would come after that? Who knew for how long the Bennets would stay at Netherfield? Who knew if Mr Darcy would have the strength to resist Miss Eliza's seduction? It was not to be borne. Caroline was going to use that tea.
"He will propose to you, sooner or later." Mrs Hurst tried to soothe her sister, without really believing what she was saying. "You do not have to resort to these ploys."
"I know, Louisa. I just want to give him a little… Push."
"A miraculous tea from a sketchy shop in the outskirts of London is not a 'little push', Caroline." Mrs Hurst was becoming annoyed again.
"Oh, please! What's the worst that could happen?"
And as the reader must have guessed, the worst has already happened.
Well, this thing has been almost 2 years in the making so I hope it wasn't all for nothing. I have written the full story, I just need to edit the second part so I should be able to post one chapter a week, every Friday (16 chapters in total).
This will be way less spicy than the premise would make you think, btw. We won't go further than some tastefully implicit thoughts.
Thank you for reading. Hit it up in the comments and come and say hi on Tumblr ( .com) if you want.
