Chapter Six – Staying Over
"It's acute appendicitis. After the surgery, I would recommend she not move for a few days."
Just minutes after receiving Jane's phone call, Eliza and her parents had rushed to Mount Sinai Hospital to find Charles pacing furiously in front the room where Jane lay. He immediately burst out into apologies and explanations; they had been having a late dinner after seeing a show when Jane complained of a pain in her stomach. It wasn't long before she was doubled over her filet mignon, and Charles had rushed her to hospital. While the Bennets thanked him, the doctor seeing to Jane came out to greet them.
"What, stay here in the hospital?" Mrs. Bennet screeched. "I won't hear of it!"
"Mom, she shouldn't be moving all the way back to Long Island," Eliza said with a sigh.
"But this hospital is so far and lonely. She needs to be around family!"
"Mrs. Bennet, with all due respect, Jane is going to need at least a week to recover. Her movement should be limited," the doctor cut in.
"My apartment is only a few blocks away," Charles suddenly spoke up. He had been sitting on a bench, looking fraught with worry, but his eyes lit up when he made the suggestion. "Please, let me be of service."
The suggestion also lit up the eyes of Mrs. Bennet. A shaky smile spread across her face as she wrapped poor Charles into a hug.
"Oh, Charles, what would we do without you! That is so generous of you," she wept into his curly hair.
"Please, it is the least I can do," his muffled voice came through. "If it's alright," he added, looking to the doctor.
"It's better than Long Island," the doctor conceded. "I'll leave you to make arrangements," he said, and then went into Jane's room.
"Oh, Charles, thank you. I couldn't stand the thought of Jane staying here in this death place… you are too generous, really, how can we ever thank you?" Mrs. Bennet babbled. Charles blushed and shook his head.
"Please, Mrs. Bennet, it is quite alright. We have a very comfortable guest suite, so Jane will be able to rest."
"We?" Eliza asked warily.
Charles looked up at her, looking thankful that someone else was speaking.
"Oh, yes… Darcy and I share the penthouse… well, actually, it is his penthouse, I pay for a very small part of it."
"And he won't mind?" Eliza asked, even more warily. Darcy did not seem like the kind of man to be so hospitable.
"Not at all! He'll most likely want to stay on Long Island, actually."
"So it would just be you and Jane?" Mrs. Bennet blurted out with far too much excitement.
Charles blushed again. "Yes, it would. Is that alright?" he asked, suddenly looking apprehensive.
"Of course!" Mrs. Bennet burst out before anyone else could say no. "Jane will find your company to be very comforting, I'm sure." Eliza audibly groaned at her mother's lack of discretion, and had to turn away "coughing".
"I don't know, Mrs. Bennet," Mr. Bennet interjected, sounding concerned.
"You're right, Mr. Bennet, it is inappropriate," Charles said hastily. "Perhaps… Eliza, you're welcome to come stay with your sister, if you'd like."
Eliza breathed a sigh of relief. She smiled at Charles, thankful that he was such a gentleman.
"I'd love to! If you have enough room, that is," she added.
"You can stay in Caroline's room. I'm sure she'll want to stay at the beach," Charles said, returning her smile.
"Oh, pish posh, Eliza doesn't need to go! Jane will be fine with Charles," Mrs. Bennet immediately began to argue.
"Let it go, Mrs. Bennet," Mr. Bennet said in a soft tone. "You are very hospitable, Charles," he said to Bingley with a warm smile.
"Yes, thank you so much, Charles… it'll only be for a few days," Eliza added.
Charles waved their thanks away. "It's the least I can do," he repeated. "Excuse me, I'll go call the housekeeper to make up the guest suite," he said, and then walked away to make the phone call.
"Mother, you're shameless," Eliza chided Mrs. Bennet, sitting down on the bench.
"Why couldn't you two just follow along?" Mrs. Bennet trilled. "Jane could have had Bingley all to herself! That would have clinched it!"
"Oh, please, Mrs. Bennet. It's obvious the boy is completely in love with her," Mr. Bennet said, also sitting down.
"Do you really think so?" Mrs. Bennet said happily, looking after Bingley, who was just about out of sight. "Oh, what a sweet boy! And what a wonderful son-in-law he'll be! Oh, dear Jane, how happy she'll be! A penthouse in Manhattan, a town house in London… how fabulous!"
As Mrs. Bennet chattered on, Mr. Bennet leaned into Eliza.
"At least she's not talking to us."
Next day, Eliza stood in the front hall with two suitcases: one for her, and one for Jane. Tom stood by her side, and while he rhapsodized about the pain and anguish he was feeling over her departure, Eliza smiled to herself. Not only was she getting away from Tom, but she was finally going to be able to see Jane and Charles up close, without the influence of Darcy or Caroline. At first she had been worried that, upon hearing that Jane would be staying with Charles alone, William and Caroline would be packed and leaving Netherfield within the hour. But as it turned out, and as Charles had repeatedly assured her, William and the Bingley sisters were going to be staying in Long Island. Caroline had already gone to visit Jane in the hospital, bringing her a large bouquet of garish flowers and bemoaning Jane's situation for about an hour before leaving for a manicure.
Eliza had barely left the hospital; Jane had never really been sick before, and she'd always had a fear of hospitals. Eliza couldn't bear the thought of Jane lying in the hospital bed all alone, even if it was for only two days. Her sweet, vulnerable sister had looked so pale with all those tubes sticking out of her. It had been awful.
Around about ten, a yellow taxi pulled up in front of the house, and with one last peck from Tom and one last glare from her mother, Eliza left for Manhattan. The drive was easy and the weather was beautiful, so Fifth Avenue was packed. The driver made his way to the curb as they pulled up to an elegant, prewar building with a white façade. Eliza thanked the driver and was barely out the door before Charles was bounding up to her, retrieving the suitcases from the trunk. She smiled at him as he cheerfully led her into the building and to the elevator. They made small conversation, mostly about Jane, who was tired but very alert and watching a movie in bed.
"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," Eliza said with a chuckle.
"Yes. But the doctor said to keep her in bed, no matter how strong she looks. And she shouldn't be eating many solid foods, not until a few days from now, anyway…"
As Charles chattered on about the various things the doctor had said, Eliza couldn't help but smile. Jane had done what Eliza had always somehow failed to do: find a kind yet passionate man who would take care of her even when she was ill and had to be spoon-fed Jell-o. Now that's love, Eliza thought, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.
The elevator opened on the 27th floor to a small, well-lit lobby. Charles put down the suitcases and opened the door, and when Eliza walked inside, that twinge turned into a blow. The front foyer was a circular room with a dark, rich wood floor and a very grand staircase. Charles led her up the stairs and down a corridor, at the end of which stood white double doors. He knocked lightly before beckoning Eliza in.
"Lizzie!" was the enthusiastic greeting that came from the bed. Jane sat up, smiling happily at her sister.
"Lie down, Jane, you heard the doctor," Charles pleaded futilely as Eliza bounced over and wrapped her sister in a hug.
"Oh, Lizzie, you didn't have to come," Jane said even as she grinned.
"What? But Mom insisted!" Eliza said with a laugh. Jane giggled, but then winced and placed a hand on her stomach.
"Now will you lie down?" Charles said, appearing at Eliza's shoulder. Jane smiled and settled back in the pillows.
"Yes, doctor," she said. Charles shook his head, but bent down and kissed her forehead. Eliza couldn't help but smile; already it seemed like the lack of Darcy and Caroline's presence was having a good effect on the couple.
"Come, Eliza, I'll show you your room," Bingley said, turning to her. Eliza winked at her sister before following Charles out of the room.
"She's looking well," Eliza said, unable to keep the relief out of her voice.
"Yes, she gets cheerier every hour, it seems. But the doctor said to let her rest still, no matter how energetic she feels. Plus there's a pill she has to take every four hours, or else the pain comes back. That tends to knock her out for a bit," he said with a chuckle.
They stopped in front of a lovely, spacious room with white walls and a plush blue carpet. Eliza's suitcase sat on the canopy bed's cerulean satin sheets, slightly hidden by the fine white netting.
"What a charming room," Eliza commented as she walked in.
"It's Caroline's. She said you're welcome to anything you might need," Charles replied.
Eliza almost laughed; she was sure that Caroline, wherever she was, was sick to the stomach from the thought of Eliza using anything of hers.
"I've told her time and again that it technically is a guest room, but she's made so many personal touches that it is more like her room," he went on. Eliza subtly raised an eyebrow as she glanced around… she certainly couldn't see any "personal touches" unless you counted the slight lavender scent and air of pomposity. But she smiled and thanked Charles, who told her lunch would be served in an hour before hurrying back to Jane. Eliza began to unpack her few clothing items and toiletries, thinking with amusement on Jane and Charles. Maybe this time away from Netherfield and Long Island would finally cement their relationship. She certainly hoped so.
After putting her toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom, Eliza walked back to Jane's room. She found her sister sitting up in bed, watching one of her favorite movies, Love Story. Eliza groaned loudly as she came in and sat down in a comfy armchair.
"Oh, be quiet, Lizzie," Jane scoffed, turning up the volume.
"I just don't understand the appeal of this movie," Eliza launched into her usual rant. "I mean, she falls deathly ill and then she dies."
"It's romantic!" Jane cried.
"That's not romantic," Eliza countered. "Romantic is living and being together and having lots of sex. It is not having the love of your life die at twenty years old."
"Oh Lizzie you wouldn't know romance if it slapped you in the face," Jane said with a smile.
"As long as I'm alive to not know it," Eliza said. Jane shook her head and continued turning the volume up.
"Now Full Metal Jacket… there's a romantic movie," Eliza mused.
Jane laughed. "Lizzie?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're here."
Eliza turned to her sister and grinned. "Me, too."
After eating a light lunch – for Jane that meant some soup and more Jell-o – Charles fussed about until Jane finally agreed to take a nap. After pondering going out for a walk, Eliza decided it was too hot and Charles recommended that she check out the library.
"Will has the most amazing book collection – you should see his estate in England… the library is absolutely remarkable," he was telling her as they walked to the third floor of the apartment. Turning a corner, Eliza found herself in a large, airy room lined with tall bookshelves. Despite herself, her jaw dropped open at the sheer amount of books.
"And it's bigger than this one?" she practically squeaked.
"Ten times bigger," Charles said with a smile at her delight.
"Wow," she breathed as she walked along the bookshelves… as a kid, she had loved to sit curled up in her father's study where he kept all his books. She would just sit and read while he worked; it was certainly what influenced to her to study anthropology, considering she read everything from history texts to law books to Shakespeare to scientific studies. She had loved sitting there and wondering why and how people do what they do, think how they think, and act as they act. She smiled as she paused in front of one bookshelf; all the books were organized alphabetically by author, just as she had organized her father's books one summer. It had been a massive undertaking, to be sure.
"All these he picked out on his own… the library in England has been there for generations. Crazy fellow, organizing them all perfectly by author," Charles chuckled.
Eliza smiled slightly, her heart inexplicably skipping a beat.
"Does he travel much?" she asked.
"Oh yes… well, he used to, I suppose. After college, when his father died, he took two years off and traveled around to all the great museums. He majored in art at Oxford, you know."
"Yes, he told me… how old is he?" she asked, trying to be subtle.
"Twenty-six," Charles answered. "Seen a lot, though. After he takes over his father's firm, I'm afraid he won't be able to travel as much as he used to."
Eliza fell quiet, but she had just remembered something Darcy had said: "But I studied art at Oxford, much to my family's chagrin." So, old Monsieur Haughty himself had been a rebel? She couldn't picture it… she wondered whether he really wanted to study law and take over the family business… definitely, she thought. That sounded like a grand tradition, something right up his alley. But she couldn't help but feel a small bit of grudging respect for him not just for studying art but taking two years to travel. Yeah, of course he did, she then thought, because he's got the money and power to be frivolous. And with that, the bit of respect was gone.
Charles left Eliza while she continued to peruse the large room. She eventually settled on what looked like an ancient copy of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream and carefully took it to Jane's room, who was still sound asleep. She curled up again in the large armchair next to Jane's bed and gently opened the book and began to read.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully; Jane slept until five, and Eliza kept her company until Charles joined them for dinner. Noting that they may want to be left alone, Eliza slipped out of the room after dinner and went back to her own room. She called her parents and gave them the report: Jane was doing well, and yes, Charles still seemed madly in love. After the phone was passed around to nearly every family member, Eliza hung up and changed into her pajamas. Treading quietly to Jane's door, Eliza found that Charles was gone and so she walked in.
"Lizzie, you didn't have to leave," Jane said, blushing all the same, as her sister came in.
Eliza laughed. "That's alright, I was only too happy to do so." She sat on the edge of Jane's bed and smiled. "He seems very happy with you here."
Jane smiled. "Oh Lizzie… he's wonderful, isn't he?"
"He certainly is." She paused. "How do you feel?"
Jane shrugged. "Alright. Weak… tired. My stomach still feels strange."
Eliza nodded. "Well, I talked to everyone earlier and they all say hello. Oh, and Mom says to make sure you're putting on concealer every day because sometime you get dark circles under your eyes."
Jane laughed.
"And Lydia said that if you aren't vomiting, you should be making out with Charles 24/7."
Jane laughed again, only to wince and lean back.
"Oh, Lizzie … you were the worst person to come, you make me laugh too much," she complained jokingly.
Eliza chuckled. "Sorry, love. You should be sleeping anyway… I'm beat, too."
Jane rolled her eyes but slid under the covers. "Yes, Mom," she said.
Eliza smiled and patted Jane on the head. "Good night, dear."
"G'night, Lizzie," Jane murmured even as her eyes slid closed. Eliza turned off the lights and closed the door, and then walked back to her room. Slipping into the satin sheets, Eliza thought she could certainly get used to this as she, too, drifted asleep.
The next morning, Eliza woke around eight to find sunlight streaming through the windows. Disconcerted, it took her a few moments to realize where she was. Literally sliding out of the satin sheets, she brushed her teeth and then went to check on Jane, who was still sleeping. Her stomach growling in hunger, she padded down the stairs, still wiping the sleep out of her eyes. She was working on a particularly stubborn fleck of eye dust when a voice stopped her stone cold.
"Ah, Eliza, good morning."
Opening her eyes, Eliza found herself in the breakfast room being stared at by four of the most dreaded people she could think of: Caroline Bingley, her sister and her husband, and worst of all, William Darcy. They were all sitting, immaculately dressed, around the table sipping coffee and eating breakfast. And there she stood, in her pink-striped pajama pants and white tank top, her hair a mess and her eyes full of crust. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to smile.
"Oh, Caroline… hi," she managed to say. She could've sworn she saw Caroline's lips twitch into an evil smile. "I didn't realize you would be coming," Eliza continued, meeting Caroline's gaze with an icy one of her own.
"Oh we couldn't let Jane stay in this apartment all alone!" Caroline exclaimed. "Poor girl."
"I'm here… Charles is here," Eliza couldn't help but blurt out. "I mean, too many visitors might be too much for Jane right now," she added, easing her face into a smile.
Caroline smiled as well, except it did nothing but make her look even more like an overgrown bat.
"Well, I'm sure she won't mind a few friends," she said. She then cocked her head. "I hope my room is to your liking?"
"Oh, it's fine. Very lovely," Eliza said, still reeling in the shock of seeing the four of them just sitting there. She couldn't bear to look at Darcy; it would be a miracle if he wasn't steaming from the impropriety of her standing in his breakfast room in nothing but her pajamas. "Were you going to stay? Because I can't certainly…"
"Oh no, not at all. We're just here for the day," Caroline said.
Just then, much to Eliza's relief, Charles emerged from the kitchen carrying a hot skillet.
"Eliza! You're up… I guess I don't need to tell you we have company," he said with a smile. "Sit down, I'll get you some coffee."
"Oh, well maybe I should…" she started to say, gesturing to her pajamas.
"Nonsense. Sit down… would you like an omelet?" he asked even as he walked back to the kitchen.
"Oh… sure, if you're making them, thanks," she said, still determinedly keeping her eyes away from Darcy. She sat down at the table, sitting cross-legged like she usually did. Charles waltzed back in and placed a large mug of coffee in front of her, interrogating her about what kind of omelet she wanted. Satisfied, he went back to the kitchen, leaving a very uncomfortable silence behind him. Darcy was hidden behind the paper, and Caroline and her sister were speaking softly between themselves. Eliza settled for sipping her coffee silently. It was an excruciating six minutes until Charles came back in, setting a plate in front of Eliza and then sitting down himself. He made some valiant attempts at small talk until he finally fell silent as well. The only sound for several minutes was the clatter of silverware until Charles once again cleared his throat.
"Ah, Will, this will please you. I've found someone else who finds as much pleasure in your library as you do," he said.
Eliza nearly choked on her egg; she took a huge gulp of milk, praying that Charles wouldn't continue. Darcy flipped part of his paper down to look inquisitively at Charles.
"Really," he said in that deep, bored voice of his.
"Yes," Charles said with a grin. He then pointed his fork at Eliza. "Miss Bennet here was positively giddy over your collection."
"I didn't touch anything!" Eliza immediately blurted out. "I mean, I did take a copy of Midsummer, but I put it back in its place."
But Darcy remained silent, his brow arched, as he surveyed Eliza. His gaze was unsettling; he didn't look angry, nor did he look arrogant. He merely looked… interested.
"You're studying anthropology," he finally said; it wasn't really a question, but Eliza nodded anyway.
"You should look through the library more thoroughly. You would find some things that would interest you," he went on.
"Thanks… I'd like to," Eliza said, feeling slightly more at ease.
"I've spent a lot of time collecting those books," he said, a little quieter.
"I told her about Pemberly's library, although no explanation can give it justice," Charles interjected.
"Oh, I adore your library in Derbyshire!" Caroline exclaimed. "I could spend days in there just looking at all those books."
"That's the product of several generations. Even I haven't seen all those books," Darcy said, his tone a little icier.
"Sounds incredible," Eliza murmured; Darcy's eyes flickered up to hers, and for a brief, heart stopping moment, Eliza saw him smile. But in a blink of the eye, it was gone, and he was once again hidden behind the newspaper.