Author's note: I know, I know, I am so sorry it's been so long. Holidays, sick kids and hubby, and writer's block all combined together. Hopefully the writer's block has ended and healthy days are ahead!
But on another note, I now have a list of like 15 new storylines I want to write as I tried to get through this chapter lol.
Chapter 15
Chapter 15
It was with great mortification that Elizabeth faced Darcy at breakfast a few hours later. The memory of his gaze burning into her caused warmth to flare in her cheeks, and she quickly made her way to the breakfast board to hide her blush.
After delaying over the eggs for several moments for no real purpose other than to regain her composure, she took a seat at the table. Just as she took her first bite, a servant entered with several letters on a tray, which was extended to Darcy,. He leafed through the stack, took several, then placed the remainder back with the servant.
To her surprise, the salver was next brought to Elizabeth. The servant's white-gloved hand extended the tray, and she looked down to see a folded paper with her name in her father's hand lying atop opened two letters. All three were tied together with a piece of twine.
"Thank you," she said, smiling at the servant as she took the small bundle.
Curiosity burned within her, but she placed it on the side of thr table next to her plate, as good manners dictated. She ate quickly - and silently, with Darcy hidden behind his newspaper, apparently enraptured by the current state of affairs - and excused herself from the room.
Once upstairs, she checked on Jane, who was still fast asleep from the night before. Elizabeth smiled fondly at her elder sister from the doorway between their rooms. Jane always was a bit of a late riser, even when was at the peak of health.
"I am going for a walk in the gardens. If she wakens before I return, would you please send someone to fetch me?"
The maid - a new girl, not the same as the night before - eagerly nodded her head before returning to her mending. Elizabeth exchanged her house slippers for a pair of walking boots, fetched her shawl to ward off the damp air, and made her way outside.
Once she had wandered the garden path far enough to have stretched her legs and moved just out of direct sight from windows, she sat on a bench, untied the string that bound all three missives, and opened the first from her father.
Elizabeth,
I have heard from your Uncle Gardiner. He has completed his inquiries in town. Instead of writing them again myself, I shall practice economy and save the ink by simply forwarding his letter directly on to you. I have also enclosed a letter from your aunt Gardiner. I'm afraid it's open state is due to your sister Lydia hoping to find some spending money inside.
Based on your uncle's news, I have made the decision to allow Jane to marry Mr. Bingley. You may inform Mrs. Hurst, so she can tell her brother to visit Mr. Philips as soon as he wishes to discuss the marriage settlements. A special license is best, although your mother's face upon hearing the news for the first time when the banns are called at church would be quite the sight to behold!
T. Bennet
Elizabeth stared at the page on her lap in mild disbelief, her hands trembling. How like her father to put off anything that may cause him the slightest bit of inconvenience! To have the marriage be accepted vis a vis herself and Mrs. Hurst, rather than Bingley paying a call and her father playing an active role in the settlements - it bordered on negligent.
She let out an angry huff, then forcefully crumpled the letter, shoving it deep into the pocket of her dress. It took several deep breaths before she felt calm enough to pick up and read the next missive, which was the one from her uncle Gardiner.
Thomas,
It is quite the coincidence that I am already somewhat familiar with your Mr. Bingley. His father and I invested in many of the same ventures over the years and was a member of my club here in London. I have even met his son a few times. It therefore took much less time than it normally would to discover information about his character.
Carl Bingley - your Mr. Bingley's father - was a rough, self-made man born of German parents. He lamented loudly over the years about how soft his boy was. As the father wasn't any more ruthless in business than I am, that is actually quite significant.
From the Runners I've sent out and the inquiries I've personally made - and do not dare to ask I know about some of these things - young Mr. Bingley has not been seen at gambling halls or the more depraved brothels. The few actresses and courtesans he has visited had nothing negative to say of him. In fact, as a whole they spoke of his uncommon gentleness and unusual concern for their well-being. He often left extra money, beyond what he paid to their bawds.
The Runner I sent up to Cambridge, the school where he attended, could find no evidence of mistreated young women, unpaid debts, or false promises. Since he has only recently left the school, any such rumors of that sort would still be somewhat fresh and active.
Additionally, his finances are all in good order. There would be no need for him to marry for money.
I hope this is of use to you. From the information I have gathered, I would trust him to marry any of the girls, including Jane.
Be sure to invite us to the wedding breakfast, or my wife may not forgive you.
Edward
Elizabeth gave a soft laugh at this last line, which served its purpose in overriding her mortification in her uncle's words about prostitutes. While this was one of her primary concerns about Jane being married, she did not want to think about the more unsavory side of things in London.
The letter cheered her significantly. For the first time, Elizabeth felt as though she could truly feel comfortable with saying Jane would be safe as Mrs. Bingley. There was a truth in all of Bingley's looks, and this letter seemed to confirm that her instincts were correct.
Ah, but what about last night's panic? a snide voice whispered in her head. Your instincts then were to take Jane and flee! Don't be so smug.
Elizabeth had to admit she'd acted quite foolishly the night prior. The combination of fatigue and her aunt's good wine had caused her imagination to go far beyond her typical tendency towards panic. In the light of day, the idea that two gentlemen and a lady would mistreat an ill young woman not three miles from her home was quite absurd, especially when that young lady was well-connected in the county they all inhabited
She gave a little laugh at herself, then shook her head and opened the next envelope, which had also been opened already by Lydia's snooping. Fortunately, Mrs. Gardiner was well aware of the perils that came from sending a letter to the Bennet household and rarely included sensitive information in a note that was addressed to her niece.
No sooner had she read the first line, than she heard her name being called. "Miss Lizzy?"
She looked up and gave Jamie a warm smile. "Hello, Jamie. Would you like to join me?"
He shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't have much time. I promised the stablemaster I would help with Satan."
"I beg your pardon?" She blinked about him in confusion, certain that she had heard incorrectly.
"Mr. Darcy's mount. His name is Satan, and he sure is a mean devil. Never met a horse quite like him. All the other grooms are too scared to come near him, but he seems to like me alright."
"Well, I certainly hope Mr. Darcy is taking the time to check in on his horse himself," Elizabeth said with a huff.
Jamie's eyebrows shot up. "Mr. Darcy is at the stable each morning for an hour or so with Satan. He even does the brushing and saddling himself before taking him out. He rides him hard so that he's too tired to cause much trouble the rest of the day. When there's poor weather, Mr. Darcy is quick to hand out a few shillings to those who have to put up with Satan's restlessness."
The hint of reproof in Jamie's voice caused Elizabeth's face to pinken slightly. "I daresay he's concerned about having to care for an injured servant," she retorted defensively.
He sighed. "Elizabeth, I know you are not very fond of the man. I, too, do not appreciate how he has spoken of Jane in the past. But I also do not have the same desire to think the worst of him that you do. He has always dealt quite properly with the servants and those of us beneath him, which is more than can I say for many others of his station. You really must let go of your prejudice."
Chastened, she looked down at the papers in her hand. "Perhaps you are right," she muttered."
Lifting his good arm, he cupped a hand around his ear. "What was that? I didn't quite hear you?"
She giggled and shoved at him. "Oh, you heard me."
He laughed, then motioned down at her letters. "What news from your aunt and uncle?"
Elizabeth quickly summarized her uncle's letter and the accompanying note from her father before saying, "I have not yet read my aunt's missive. I will do so now."
She unfolded the last of the small sheaf and began to scan the words on the page.
Dearest Lizzy,
I don't have long to write, but I felt it quite important to include some information along with your uncle's letter to your father with regards to Mr. Darcy.
Based on your descriptions, I must assume that the gentleman is none other than Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. You recall that I am from Lambton, a small town in Derbyshire. The estate of Pemberley is not five miles from my little village, and I must admit to being quite shocked to hear of your experience with the current master of the grand estate.
As you know, my father was the physician in Lambton for many years before he came to London. I myself never visited Pemberley, nor met any of the Darcy family, but my father was regularly called upon to treat Lady Anne, as she was always of delicate health.
I still remember a terrible day a little over fifteen years ago when he was called in the middle of the night up to the estate. Mrs. Darcy had entered into her confinement, but there was an issue with the birth, and the midwife had asked for my father to be fetched. He didn't return until well into the following afternoon, looking as if he had aged about ten years. He refused to speak of what occurred, but after that, Mrs. Darcy was never seen leaving the estate again, and the child's baptism was performed without any local witnesses.
Rumors began to circulate several months later, the long-time steward was removed from his position, and many of the servants - some of whom had been working alongside their families to serve the Darcys for generations - were suddenly without employment.
My father relocated our family to London, and I eventually forgot all about Pemberley, Lambton, and the Darcys. A year ago, however, I was surprised when I went to visit one of the local children's homes and was told that a new patron had been found to replace Lord Lockhart, whom you will remember had passed on last year.
Here, Lizzy looked up at Jamie's scoff. "Good riddance," he grumbled. "That old coot was always trying to get the girls to sit on his lap!"
Mr. Darcy - the son, not the father - had met with the proprietress that morning to discuss how he could support the children. He immediately wrote a banker's note and promised there would be more coming in each month. On one occasion, I happened to visit and saw him graciously accept a drawing from Sally. Oh, if you could see the tender smile he gave her. She does not get many, not with her face as deformed as it is. But he even bowed to her.
I know this does not give you much information in helping you sketch his character, but a young man who is willing to be so generous, both with his behavior and his purse, may have more depth to him than you think. Remember, we all come with a history that shapes who we are.
All my love,
Aunt Gardiner
Folding the paper, Elizabeth let out a sigh.
"She's right, you know," Jamie said. "Mr. Darcy really deserves forgiveness - real forgiveness, where you actually forget about all your anger and move on."
She sighed again. "It would just be so inconvenient to be wrong about a man I've sworn to hate."
Jamie started laughing. "You're just as prideful as you insist he is!"
Elizabeth felt a reluctant smile tug at her lips. "I suppose I could more easily forgive his pride if he had not offended my sister's."
"Yet she does not hold a grudge against him."
"But Jane is all that is good and sweet! She would forgive the devil himself."
Jamie let out shout. "Dash it all! Speaking of the devil, I really must get to the stables. Sorry, Miss Lizzy!"
With that, he took off running down the garden row, leaving Elizabeth to her letters and her thoughts.
It was quite some time before she felt equal to returning to the house again. She'd re-read all of the missives, turning the information she'd received from her aunt and uncle over and over again in her mind, as well as her father's charge to convey his decision regarding Jane's marriage to Bingley.
With each step, however, the worry and uncertainty she had been feeling seemed to ease. By the time she reached the front door to Netherfield, her weight on her shoulders had almost entirely disappeared. Upon entering the house, she turned to a footman and said, "Could you please have someone tell Mrs. Hurst I would like to have word with her in my chambers?"
Once in her rooms, Elizabeth changed into shoes more appropriate for the indoors. She was relieved that her feet had now almost healed; indeed, she no longer noticed any discomfort at all, and the only sign of the event were some faint pink lines fading away.
Standing at the door connecting her room to Jane's, she watched her sleeping sister. Jane might be the oldest, but Elizabeth had always been the one responsible for their welfare. Now, she was about to give her gentle sister over to the care of someone else.
How could she bear it?
As if aware of her sister's presence, Jane began to stir. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking around blearily. "Lizzy?"
"I'm here, dearest."
Elizabeth crossed the room and knelt at her sister's bedside. She frowned at Jane's blue lips and white face. Pressing her hand to Jane's brow, she asked, "How do you feel?"
"Tired. My chest hurts."
"Here, drink some water."
Elizabeth helped Jane sip from the glass at the nearby table. Jane began to cough after only a few swallows, causing some to spill on the comforter. "Oh no! I'm so sorry, Lizzy."
"Shh, it's quite alright, Jane," soothed Elizabeth. "It's only a little damp. It will dry."
"I hope Mr. Bingley will not be too angry I ruined his blanket."
"It's not ruined, and I highly doubt he could be angry at you."
"Indeed, he could not," Mrs. Hurst chimed in from the same door Elizabeth had entered only minutes before. "Forgive my intrusion, but when there was no response to my knock, I took the liberty of following the murmur of voices from the hallway."
"Not at all," replied Elizabeth.
She glanced uncertainly at Jane, unwilling to leave her sister's side, but equally uncomfortable raising the topic in front of her sister. Finally, she reached in to her pocket and wordlessly passed the letter from Mr. Bennet over to Mrs. Hurst, who took it with no small degree of curiosity.
As her eyes skimmed over the page, a smile of delight spread across the lady's face. "Oh, this is excellent news indeed!"
"What is excellent news?" asked Jane, craning her short neck to peer at the paper.
Thinking quickly, Elizabeth replied, "Papa writes to say that he thinks Mr. Bingley is a very nice man."
Jane's face lit up. "Oh, he most definitely is!"
The girl then began to list every single thing she and Mr. Bingley had either done together or discussed in the short time of their acquaintance. As Elizabeth listened to her sister prattle on about the gentleman and his merits, the remaining vestiges of worry disappeared from her shoulders.
At last, Mrs. Hurst excused herself from the room. "I believe I should speak to my brother about this excellent report from your father. Might I take it to show to him?"
Elizabeth nodded, and Mrs. Hurst dipped a quick curtsy of farewell before she darted out the door.
As she hurried down the hall, Mrs. Hurst couldn't help but feel a bubble of excitement swell within her breast. It was all she could do to keep from squealing with joy or hugging herself. Finally - a sister! Well, she had Caroline, of course, but there had been little by way of sisterly consolation from her in well over a decade. Now she would have two delightful young ladies with genuine fondness for one another to call family.
Without stopping to knock, she burst through the doors into the study, where she knew she would find her brother ensconced with Darcy. "Charles," she cried, waving the letter, finally allowing her elation to burst forth unrestrained, "I have the most excellent news!"
Bingley - who was standing at a table with Darcy, looking over maps of the acreage around Netherfield - looked up at his sister. "Caroline's engaged?!" he exclaimed.
"What? No!" She laughed. "But you soon shall be!"
She laughed at his dumbfounded expression and handed him Mr. Bennet's letter. Darcy stood at Bingley's side, reading over his shoulder. As Bingley's grin grew, so did Darcy's frown.
"I shall ride to London for the license immediately!" Bingley declared. "Darcy, can you write me a letter of introduction to the bishop? And stand up with me when I return?"
"Are you certain, Charles?" Darcy asked.
Bingley's face darkened. "I thought we had finished this conversation."
Darcy held up his hands. "I simply wanted to ensure that your feelings and wishes had not changed."
"They have not."
Darcy held Bingley's gaze for a long, measuring moment, then said, "In that case, I will come with you and introduce you to the bishop myself."
"But -"
"I need to check on my sister. If I am to stay here until I stand with you, I will need to see her. We have never been apart for this long before."
"I wasn't aware you had a sister," Mrs. Hurst said with some surprise.
"Not many people are," he said curtly.
Mrs. Hurst bit her tongue against the multitude of questions that arose within her. Instead, she said, "Speaking of sisters, you should probably speak to ours while you are in London, Charles. Caroline has had enough time to make a decision."
"I certainly shall. I will leave within the hour and return in two days - perhaps three, depending. Will you be alright in my absence?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "I shall remain with Miss Elizabeth to tend to her sister as needed, even through the nights, until your return."
"If Gilbert has any issues with that, remind him that he is welcome to return to his own estate at any time he desires."
Silence, then, "Very well. Thank you, Charles."
She pressed her hand down on the slight bulge under her gown, silently saying a prayer for her brother's safe return - not just for Jane's sake, but for the safety of them all.