Chapter 6

When Mr. and Miss Bennet arrived to Netherfield, the local party was already dressed and waiting for them in the parlour. Mr. Bingley's eyes brightened when they were announced and he went to Jane's side immediately. Although the couple's reunion was an understated affair, Edward was certain that everyone could tell how inordinately glad both parties felt upon finding themselves in the same room again.

As for the rest, Mr. Hurst played solitaire and barely raised his eyes from his game to give the new arrivals a polite welcome; Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley spoke contentedly to each other, and although both likewise observed the polite niceties required of them, neither one showed much interest. Miss Bingley, for her part, did puzzle Edward exceedingly, as she managed to refrain, in spite of her coldness, from making any disparaging observation on either Edward's person or his character. He was not certain if that boded well.

When they entered, Darcy was standing with his back to the room, poking at the fire that had been lit in consideration to the colder weather the rain had brought forth. He turned around the moment he heard Bingley's effusive greeting, and made his way to them with affability.

Nevertheless, at the dinner table, the conversation was directed and dominated by the hostess and her sister. Mrs. Hurst was suddenly very interested in the Bennet family, and no vague answer would satisfy her.

'Dear Jane tells me you have several uncles, Mr. Bennet; where do they live?'

'Only two uncles, to be sure, Mrs. Hurst; one is an attorney here in Meryton and the other lives in London. Although perhaps you also mean my father's cousin that lives in Scotland; we do call him uncle.'

'Scotland, how charming! And your uncle in London, where does he live?'

'He lives with his family in Gracechurch Street, madam.'

She looked faintly horrified by this admission, and he felt a vague satisfaction in adding, 'Near Cheapside.'

Miss Bingley well nigh gasped, but Mrs. Hurst recovered her equanimity quickly enough, asking, 'And what does he do?'

'He is in trade, but I know not what kind of trade. He is my late mother's brother, and we do not keep much in touch.'

Darcy and Bingley looked faintly bored by the interrogation, and Darcy finally intervened turning the subject to more congenial subjects, like the weather.

They were halfway through the fish course when Jane began to feel faint, and though she insisted it was nothing, a room was readied for her in case it was only a brief spell that would pass with a little rest. Later it became obvious it was not a brief spell and that she was best not moved.

Bingley was eager to have them both stay, and although Edward felt he should decline, his preoccupation with Jane was such that leaving her, even for a night, was insupportable. Bingley, too, insisted. What if Jane would ask for him?

They sent a note to Longbourn with the carriage, and a room next to Jane's was readied for Edward.

That very night, Edward found himself pacing outside Jane's door, unable to sleep. He felt worried, and useless, knowing there was nothing at all he could do until morning, and probably nothing he would be able to do even then.

To and fro he went, every time he reached a wall turning around and going back again. He had worked himself into quite a state when he came face to face with Darcy, who was just coming up the stairs. Edward started; he had thought everyone asleep.

In a low voice, Darcy said, 'Ah, there you are, Bennet. Come, you cannot help your sister now. In fact, you are probably only keeping her awake. We are playing billiards downstairs.'

Edward did not really want to leave Jane's side, but seeing that he was keeping only her door company, he saw the wisdom of some distraction, and so he relented.

As he could have predicted, he was as restless in the billiards room as in the hallway. Lack of concentration would surely hamper his already shaky game, so he chose to watch, instead.

Bingley, rather distracted himself, nonetheless attempted to joke and tease Edward out of his silence, but as he never received more than monosyllabic answers or a single smile, he soon gave up. Darcy seemed focused on the game, although when he was not directly involved, he looked over at his companions frowning, with what Edward interpreted as an expression of concern.

After several games—Edward could not to save his life say who had won, or how, or how many—Bingley retired to bed, guessing aloud that the earlier they did so, the faster the morning would come. Edward, however, was so wide awake that he could not see the wisdom of that pronouncement.

Darcy remained behind, keeping his silence while serving both glasses of brandy. Then he handed him a cue and said, 'Come on, this will help you not to think so much.' And a little while later with a smirk, 'By God, you are worse than Bingley!'

Edward, who was not keeping count this time either, but did not doubt he was the loser, owned, 'Probably not much worse tonight than every other night. I have played but little.'

'I will have to give you lessons, then. You are no gentleman if you cannot at least make a wager interesting,' said Darcy, 'but now I propose we down our glasses and go to sleep. Everything will be fine in the morning.'

'Everything could,' said Edward, 'indeed, everything should be right tomorrow morning. But were I to go to bed now, I know I could not sleep.' And trying for a little humour, he added, 'It is quite vexing, to be sure, and you need not to keep me company, but I could never sleep knowing that my sister is in pain; I feel as if I should be doing something to assist her, but, by Jove, I know not what!'

'You can do nothing, Bennet, until the apothecary comes; and he shall not come until tomorrow.' And seeing that Edward was about to say something to that, he hurriedly continued, 'I know you know it, but 'tis quite different to know it and to be told by another.'

'I see you have endured similar situations. Who advises you when you are worried?'

'My cousin, who shares Georgiana's guardianship with me, tries.'

'Is he no help, then?'

Darcy answered with a twisted smile, 'We usually end up worrying together; we are both fearful of doing wrong by her.'

Edward could not help a smile at this, 'fearful' was not an adjective he would use to describe Darcy, and he could not picture it.

'You cannot be saying to me that a young girl strikes fear into the hearts of two grown men! I had never thought you timid, Darcy…'

'Not a young girl, but the rearing of a young girl, if you please,' answered Darcy, not without humour.

'The rearing, indeed, does she gives you much trouble?'

Something indefinable crossed Darcy's face then, and he stiffened slightly. 'She does not; I could not ask for a better sister.'

'Nor I,' said Edward then, his mood sobering.

Taking Edward's cue and setting it on the table, Darcy calmly refilled both glasses before saying, 'To incomparable sisters, then! Bottoms up, this will help you to sleep.'

Edward downed the glass, and said nothing.

'Well, go on with you,' Darcy said, pausing to finish the bottle. 'Now you know that there is no other help for me, either, when sister troubles throw me into a state. Keep that in mind for future use.'

Edward only managed a weak smile before heading out of the room.

He had been tempted to ask for a second glass of brandy—or it was rather a third—before going upstairs; the spirit had not had much effect on him, he was sure. Sadly, Darcy had finished the bottle, leaving him no other choice but to go. Edward had to acknowledge his error, if only to himself, when he attempted to mount the stairs.

After two energetic steps up, he had to suddenly grab the banister. It was not, he assured himself, that the room had lurched and was at that moment swaying slightly; the jumping, and the darkness, and perhaps a little—a very little—the brandy had conspired to confuse him. It was nothing that measured steps could not manage.

He made his way, then, in a slower and more silent manner than would have been expected by another, the carpet masking any noise his shuffling feet made. And so it was that he was not the only person surprised when he came face to face with Miss Bingley, clad in only her night garments, at the top of the stairs.

Edward thought for moment that the alcohol had really addled his brain, and doubted his vision. The lady's dressing gown blinded him with its whiteness, and he had to strain his eyes to make out her face.

He could tell she was blushing profusely, right down to her… raising his eyes hastily, he blushed, himself. It certainly had not been his intention to stare so, but the spirit had certainly made his reactions slower. He was sure she would think him the worst kind of rake, and she never would know how wrong she was on that score.

Finally, when the silence was becoming unsupportable, Miss Bingley spoke. Her voice shook with an emotion Edward did not recognize when she said, 'Mr. Bennet! How shocking to find you here! I was just going down to the library to find something to read, to help me sleep.' And then, before he could make any answer, she added hastily, 'I certainly did not expect to find anyone here. I thought everyone asleep.'

Desperate for something to say that was intelligent and gracious at the same time, one unmentionable, ungentlemanly thought keep intruding so that Edward could not for the life of him remember any reasonable responses. However he tried, he could not shake the perverse satisfaction he felt when he thought, 'She certainly does not think me only a boy now.'

Desperate, he seized upon the first coherent phrase and said, 'I am not the only one awake. Mr. Darcy is still in the billiard's room; he has managed to send me to sleep in a very efficient manner.'

He thought that he saw her eyes narrow, and heard her inhale sharply before she said in a harsh tone, 'Then I am sure I will retire immediately.'

Edward was momentarily disconcerted by her vehement reaction, and he answered as blandly as he could, 'I am sure you shall.'

A second later he knew that she would take his comment in the worst possible fashion. Indeed, she gasped, coloured even more deeply than before, and looked away. An uneasy silence followed, both at a loss for words. Finally, it was Edward who made the effort to speak again, searching this time for the most innocuous phrase he could muster; he would think later that he had been not quite successful.

'Well, 'tis Darcy's loss then, Miss Bingley, you do look ravishing tonight. And although it is a delight to find you here, I find that I must be off presently.'

She did not speak. Considering that any further attempts at civility that he might make in his present state could only result in worse insults, he only made a stiff bow. As he left her there at the top of the stairs, he could feel her eyes on his back until he made it into his room.

Once there, disrobing proved to be difficult, not only for his drunkenness, which he had to admit was severe, but because he did not know if a servant would intrude upon him in the morning. He finally decided to simply leave his breaches and his linen shirt on. When he was drifting off he realized that Jane's condition had not crossed his mind for quite a while, and that sleep was not taking any time at all in coming.