Chapter 6
Upon returning to Netherfield, Darcy gently lifted Elizabeth down from the horse and carried her into Netherfield. The small uproar amongst the servants caused Miss Bingley to leave the drawing room to ascertain the cause of the turmoil.
"Mr. Darcy! Miss Eliza!"
Miss Bingley's eyes were wide with shock, and she stared with her mouth agape in a very unladylike fashion. Darcy paid no heed to his hostess and said, turning to the housekeeper, Elizabeth still in his arms. "A hot bath and clean towels for Miss Elizabeth at once. She has injured her feet. Perhaps the apothecary ought to be called back again."
Ignoring Miss Bingley's shrieking demands to know what had occurred, Darcy continued into the manor and up the stairs towards the guest wing. Upon reaching the door to her room, he jerked his head at a footman, indicating that the man should open it.
Ignoring propriety, Darcy entered the room and set Elizabeth on the settee near the window. "I imagine you wish to bathe and change before getting into the clean sheets," he said.
With no further ado, he gave a short bow and exited the room.
Elizabeth was oblivious to the commotion about her as a two maids and the housekeeper helped her undress, bathe, and dress again. She was tucked into bed with hot bricks, and the housekeeper clucked in distress at seeing the soles of Elizabeth's feet.
"I daresay you won't be allowed to walk for at least a week," the kindly woman said, using a cloth to continue to wash the dirt and debris from inside the cuts.
Elizabeth made no response; she sat numbly for nearly half an hour until the door opened again.
"Lizzy?"
Her head snapped up at the sound of her father's voice.
"Oh, Papa!"
Elizabeth burst into tears as he crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to her. He placed a comforting arm around her shoulders, and she turned her face into his chest, sobbing.
They remained that way for several minutes until all her tears had been spent. Finally more tranquil, Elizabeth sat back slightly and looked up at her father.
"You received my note?"
Mr. Bennet's voice was heavy with tears. "I'm afraid so, my Lizzy. I spoke with Mr. Jones, as well; I arrived here just as he was returning - something about your feet being injured? He is just outside, so you and I can speak later."
Elizabeth didn't want to move from her father's embrace, but his gentle urging convinced her to sit back and allow Mr. Jones to examine her damaged feet.
He tutted and frowned as he knelt at her feet to inspect the bruised and torn flesh. Finally he sat back and said, "I'm afraid I will need to clean them with alcohol before applying a salve and bandaging them. The pain will be quite intense, but I worry that to leave them as they are will cause an infection."
She shuddered at the idea of losing her feet entirely and acquiesced. Mr. Jones opened a flask and poured some of it onto a clean cloth, then pressed it against the first wound. Elizabeth let out a cry of pain at the burning sting that shot from the soles of her feet and up her legs.
Mr. Bennet reached out and placed a bracing arm around her shoulders. He passed her a small pillow and said, "Here, Lizzy; bite down on this."
She shook her head, then gritted her teeth as Mr. Jones continued the debridement. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more pain, the apothecary began to apply a thick salve that soothed the sharp agony into a low tingle.
Once the salve was applied, he then began to bind her feet with soft, white strips of cloth. The bandages were then covered with socks, and Mr. Jones sat back to admire his handiwork.
"If you were any other young lady," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "I would instruct you to remain in your bed for at least three days. Since it's you, I'll simply tell you to exercise caution and keep your feet elevated as much as possible. If the pain becomes severe, or you develop a fever, you must summon me immediately."
He left a jar of salve on the little table by her bed and left the room to give instructions to the maid on how often to change the bandages.
Mr. Bennet let out a heavy sigh. "What on earth possessed you to be so foolish, Elizabeth?"
"I just…. I needed to get away. I couldn't breathe."
"I can't say I blame you," Mr. Bennet said. "I recommend next time you wish to emulate Leonidas of Rhodes, you do so with the proper footwear."
Elizabeth's tears gave way to laughter, and Mr. Bennet joined her. When the humor died away, they sat for some moments in contemplative silence. Finally, he suggested they check on Jane.
"I would tell you to stay in bed, but I know even better than Mr. Jones that my breath would be wasted."
He stood up and picked up the mangled house slippers she had been wearing. She laughed and said, "I believe my bandages and socks will be sufficient."
Her father smiled in acknowledgment and extended his arm for her to lean on. She gasped as she rose from the bed and put weight on her injured feet. Mr. Bennet began to lower her down again, but she shook her vehemently.
"No, I am well. It just surprised me, that's all. I need to see Jane. I will sit down in there."
The pair slowly made their way to the door that connected Elizabeth's bedroom with her sisters. At that moment, Elizabeth could have kissed Miss Bingley for giving them adjoining rooms, as it meant she didn't have to walk around through the hallway to reach her sister.
Elizabeth said as much to her father, who snickered. When they opened the door and saw Jane being visited by the very person of whom they spoke, they stopped.
"Speak of the devil," murmured Mr. Bennet, causing Elizabeth to bite her tongue in order to stifle her laughter.
"Ah, here is your sister now!" Miss Bingley said with false cheer. "Dear Jane has been very worried about Miss Eliza's wild behavior."
"Lizzy!" cried an anxious Jane, giving evidence to Miss Bingley's statement. "Are you well?"
This question was punctuated by a severe coughing fit that lasted several minutes. Jane's face was pale, and it almost appeared as if her lips were a slight blue.
"Do not worry about me," Elizabeth replied lightly, trying to hide her alarm. With her father's help, she limped over to Jane's bed. "I daresay my feet got the better of the event. It is my poor nerves that are damaged from having to ride atop Mr. Darcy's horse!"
Miss Bingley looked as if she had swallowed a lemon at this reminder of seeing Elizabeth in Darcy's arms, and Elizabeth once again bit back a giggle.
"Well, I shall leave you all to it, then," Miss Bingley said. "I do hope you recover quickly, Jane; both of you."
Jane beamed at her friend, who could not help but smile back at the unaffected cheer on Jane's face. Once the lady had left, Jane turned her joy towards her father and sister. "Isn't she just so kind?"
Elizabeth exchanged a wry look with her father, who smiled and said, "I am glad you think so, my dear. How are you feeling?"
"My chest hurts, Papa. I want to go home."
Mr. Bennet sighed deeply. "I'm afraid you will need to stay at Netherfield for a little longer. I will stay tonight, however; Mr. Bingley has already made the offer, and I have accepted it."
Jane's face fell, and Elizabeth quickly said, "But think of the fun we shall have here! When you are improved, we can take you downstairs to visit with Mr. Bingley. You'll be able to see your friends, and you'll have more servants to wait on your needs and wants then you ever would at home!"
Jane grinned happily. "I would like to spend more time with Mr. Bingley. I haven't been able to see him at all since I came."
"Well, it wouldn't be very appropriate for him to come to your room!" Elizabeth teased.
The three Bennets laughed together, then spent the following hour in amiable companionship until Jane drifted off to sleep.
Father and daughter then sat in a comfortable silence until the dinner-bell rang, at which point Mr. Bennet took his daughter by the arm, andthe pair carefully made their way down the stairs. Upon hearing that she would need to remain at Netherfield for some time, Elizabeth determined she would take every opportunity to leave her room and socialize - even if it did mean spending time with Miss Bingley and Darcy.
When they finally entered the drawing room, the rest of the party had already gathered. Darcy instantly shot to his feet upon her entrance and crossed the room to take her other arm. The touch reminder Elizabeth of being in his arms earlier that day; she blushed and looked down, concentrating on her bandaged feet.
Miss Bingley sniffed slightly and remarked, "I am glad you made it. I was beginning to wonder if we would have to choose between a cold dinner or waiting for you."
Mr. Bennet helped Elizabeth into a chair, rolling his eyes at her privately. Elizabeth fought back a giggle and replied, "I apologize if I made you wait. I do not walk as quickly as I usually do, as you can tell."
"I trust your sister is improving?" Mrs. Hurst asked, hastily changing the subject.
The conversation was interrupted when the butler came in to announce dinner. Once everyone had proceeded to the dining room and took their places at the table, Mrs. Hurst repeated her question.
Elizabeth bit her lip and looked at her father, uncertain as to how much information she should share. Mr. Bennet shook his head. "I'm afraid it isn't quite as simple as that."
"What?" Bingley cried out. "What do you mean?"
Mr. Bennet sighed. "Jane was born with a weak heart, as well as a few other frailties. It has made her the wonderful creature that she is, both beautiful and kind, but I'm afraid those differences will end up fatal for her."
Everyone in the room gasped, save Darcy, whose face was cold and grave.
"Fatal?" Bingley asked in a whisper.
"I'm afraid so. Her heart was on the decline before this, but catching this chill has hastened her deterioration. Mr. Jones fears she may not recover. Even if she does recover this time, she may only have a year or so left to live, if that."
"She's been on borrowed time for quite a while now," Elizabeth added in a whisper.
The room fell silent. Even the indolent Hurst had put down his brandy and was watching the conversation with uncustomary attention.
"No!" Bingley declared after a moment, coming to his feet, his fork clattering onto the table. "There must be some mistake. Please, Mr. Bennet, allow me to send for a doctor in town -"
"One has already been sent for," Darcy interrupted.
Everyone turned to stare at him in surprise. His features tightened at being the subject of attention, but his eyes met Elizabeth's with a steady gaze.
"I thank you, Mr. Darcy, but there is no need," Mr. Bennet said slowly, looking between his daughter and the tall young man.
"No need?" shrieked Miss Bingley. "Sure you cannot believe that your apothecary is more knowledgeable than a London doctor?"
"As a matter of fact, young lady -" Mr. Bennet began to say, but he was cut off by his daughter.
"What my father means to say, Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy, is that we have had a doctor from Town come before. His opinion was… well, let's just say that his suggestions of abandoning Jane to a workhouse or an asylum were less than welcome."
Bingley's face darkened as he lowered himself back into his seat. "Who would dare suggest such a monstrous thing?"
Clearing his throat, Darcy said uncomfortably, "Unfortunately, there are many who still cling to the old beliefs that those who are born disfigured or blemished are due to a punishment from God and should be kept away from good society."
"It is not all that unusual to hear from those who are too low in rank to provide for their families," Miss Bennet added, her nose in the air. "Especially when finances are scarce." She proceeded to sneer down her nose at Mr. Bennet.
"Well, it is simply not an option for us," Mr. Bennet said firmly. "So while I appreciate your rather extraordinary kindness, Mr. Darcy, I'm afraid your physician is wasting his time coming all this way. Perhaps another message might be sent before he leaves, or at least before he travels too far."
"I can assure you that this physician does not embody any of those beliefs. He is my family physician, and I know of at least one patient he treats with issues such as Miss Bennet's. Not once has he expressed the necessity of placing a person elsewhere if the family is able to care for them."
"Mr. Darcy would only choose the best of doctors," Miss Bingley added. "It is so kind of you, sir, to go to such lengths for people we are not very well acquainted with."
"Then it seems I have no choice but to thank you, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet said.
This led into a soliloquy in which Miss Bingley effusively extolled the generous nature of the Darcy family and how well thought of they were in Town and amongst the first circles. Darcy sat uncomfortably silent at the praised that monopolized the remainder of the dinner conversation.
Elizabeth ate her food mechanically, the rich dishes seeming to be tasteless. Instead, she surreptitiously inspected Darcy from the other end of the table, trying to make out the reason why he would send for help for Jane when he had spoken so harshly of her at the Meryton assembly.
Eventually, Miss Bingley signaled an end to the meal, and Elizabeth stood to go with the two ladies and leave the gentlemen to their port and cigars. Mr. Bennet, who greatly enjoyed both - but only in the solitude of his bookroom - attempted to excuse himself to help Elizabeth to the drawing room.
His excuses were gainsaid, however, when Bingley began to pepper the elder man with questions about Jane and her life. Elizabeth gave her father a sympathetic smile just before the door closed behind her. A footman gave her a kind smile and offered his arm.
Once they were settled in the drawing room, it was clear that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were also eager to learn more about their "dear Jane" and the Bennet family.
"I understand you have family in London? Which part of town do they live in?"
"Your mother's sister married her father's clerk, do I have that right?"
"I heard from an acquaintance that your sisters will each share five thousand pounds upon your mother's death. She must have brought quite a dowry with her, seeing as the estate is entailed. Given the recent news about Jane…" Miss Bingley's voice trailed off suggestively.
It was this last statement that pushed Elizabeth's temper further than she had patience for. Her anger about her sister's impending death, coupled with the snide comments all evening, had worn her down. Her feet were aching quite dreadfully, and she wished for nothing more than to be back in her room.
"I believe it was only five thousand pounds," Elizabeth replied coolly. "I must admit, I find your questions somewhat surprising, Miss Bingley. I would have thought you to have more confidence in yourself."
"What do you mean?" Miss Bingley's eyes widened at this rebuttal.
"Only that it's peculiar for so many personal questions to be asked on so short an acquaintance. I can only conclude that the fact you are a tradesman's daughter has left you insecure, and you are eager to learn how the daughters and wives of gentlemen live. "
Miss Bingley's gaping mouth reminded Elizabeth of a fish. She continued, "It is either that, or your seminary truly did not do an adequate job of preparing you to engage in conversation. After all, true ladies know how impolite it is to discuss something as vulgar as money with anyone other than an intimate friend."
"Elizabeth!"
"Caroline!"
The three ladies turned towards the door, where the four gentlemen were standing in the open frame. Miss Bingley's face, which had turned an alarming shade of purple during Elizabeth's diatribe, was the first to respond.
"Oh, Brother! You will not believe what this… this chit said to me!"
"Not. One. Word." Mr. Bingley seethed. His voice trembled with fury, and his face was as red as his hair.
Mr. Bennet's voice, on the other hand, was quite firm. "Elizabeth, I believe you are quite exhausted. You must be wishing to retire to check on Jane."
Elizabeth hung her head and nodded mutely. Shame washed over her, replacing the indignation that had consumed her only moments before. She attempted to stand, but as no stool had been offered for her to keep her feet elevated, the sudden pressure almost caused her to collapse.
For the second time that day, Elizabeth found herself in Darcy's arms. Miss Bingley gasped in shock, then narrowed her eyes. "I believe a servant could do that, Mr. Darcy. Or perhaps Mr. Bennet."
Darcy looked over at the heavyset Mr. Bennet, who clearly spent more time in his bookroom than on his horse, and said coolly, "It is the gentlemanly thing to do, Miss Bingley, as any lady would know."
Stricken, the orange-clad woman clamped her mouth shut. She turned pleading eyes to her sister and brother in turn, but they deliberately avoided meeting her gaze.
As Elizabeth was carried from the room, she heard Bingley say, "Well now, I think that we are all rather done for the day. I recommend everyone go to bed."
She sighed. It was going to be a long night.