"He is in the green guest room," Jane said, peeking her head through the door to Lizzy's room before entering. The younger woman was pacing the length of the room, her hands clenched tightly behind her back. Elizabeth was still astonished by the sight of Mr. Darcy, although he rather looked like 'poor' Mr. Darcy, or 'hapless' Mr. Darcy, or 'entirely sick through and through' Mr. Darcy when they'd found him, half-drowned and miserable in the rain by Hyde Park. "How lucky he was that you should come upon him. And more excellent news, the rain is letting up as well." Jane glanced toward the windows.
"Mmm," Lizzy replied and continued her pacing. Her stomach seemed to be a knot of unhappy bees.
"Miss," Sharpe said as she came in, a tray in her hands with a steaming posset upon it. "The Doctor has been and has said you're to drink this, and also that there will be a bath for you soon. Mrs. Gardiner is almost finished with hers, and the water is being warmed up again." She bobbed a curtsey as both girls gave her a smile, and then Sharpe left in a flutter of black skirts, leaving the posset behind.
"You best drink that," Jane said gently, but Lizzy felt it would be quite impossible to stop and do anything that required her to stand still at the moment.
Jane stared at her until Lizzy whirled and looked hard at her older sister.
"What?"
"Nothing at all, you just seem, hmmm-" Jane crossed the room to an artfully placed settee near the windows and collapsed upon it with a sigh, pulling open a book that she'd brought in with her. "Ill at ease?"
"I am not, just..."
"Fretting?"
"Absolutely not!" Absurd. Mr. Darcy would be fine, he'd taken a soaking, that was all. Many men had experienced the same, had they not? She was sure that there were so many cases in the entire history of England, of men being soaked to the bone and having lived. Why, if a simple bit of rain were enough to fell a man, then the whole country would have collapsed long before their fore-fore-fore-fore-fathers had been born.
Jane gave a knowing chuckle, and Elizabeth shot her a glare.
"Don't look at me in that manner," Jane said, opening the book to a marked page, and giving her a glance out of the corner of her eye. "Now, shall I read to you to pass the time before your bath? Or would there be some other employment you wish to pretend yourself attentive to?"
"You are being unkind, and that is my book, where did you find it? Do not think that you should lose my place in it," Lizzy said, knowing she was being unreasonable and uncharacteristically peevish.
It did not satisfy that Mr. Darcy was under the Ashford House roof. It truly set her on edge, and she did not know why?
Because he had been proud and rude, and insulted her so?
Or because... today, he'd seemed rather pathetic, and in need of such care, so much so that Aunt Gardiner had touched him, felt his forehead for the blush of fever. And Lizzy could not lie, she did feel badly for him. He had been soaked quite thoroughly to the point that the footman had despaired the fabric on the carriage bench might not be salvaged, and if the whispers from the servants were true, Mr. Darcy had fairly tumbled into his bath and fallen asleep shortly after.
Jane closed the book with a snap and sighed.
"Fine, if you will not be teased, then perhaps you will read to me, as you read so prettily, much nicer than I could?" She requested, and Lizzy found she was not proof against her sister asking with such sweetness. She grumbled, but acquiesed, at least until her bath was ready, and she was able to shake off the last of the day's cold.
It was only when Sharpe came to set her hair for the evening's dinner, and help her dress, that she found out some more unpleasant news.
"The doctor said he's not to be moved, Mr. Darcy that is, until he's well enough."
Lizzy stared at her maid through the mirror, shocked by such news, and the hive of bees in her belly awoke again.
"But Darcy House is not but a short ride away, is he so ill that he would not survive it?"
"Not that, but the cold is said to have been such a shock to his system, that he is in need of rest tonight, and nothing else. He will go tomorrow. There, Miss, what do you think?" Sharpe asked, and Lizzy shifted her attention to the soft tumble of curls that Sharpe had formed of her hair. It was a different style than the typical she'd worn in Meryton, but she found... she found she rather liked it. It complimented her eyes, she believed, and made the gentle lines of her chin and cheeks appear even softer and glowing. "I've had word it's quite the mode in France, and a cousin's friend there sent me some sketches, I do think it to be quite lovely on you, Miss."
It was. She didn't look like Lizzy Bennet of Meryton.
She looked like Elizabeth Bennet, a young woman who'd made the queen herself smile, and was out in London society, truly and fully.
The change was one she liked, quite a bit.
"Thank you Sharpe, you are very thoughtful to think of helping me try a new style," Lizzy said, and Sharpe beamed, pleased at the compliment. The other woman was kind and diligent at her work, and Lizzy rather thought that she would miss the maid once the Season was over.
"Oh, and the evening post brought this for you," Sharpe said, producing a letter.
Lizzy reached for it with thanks, and Sharpe was out of the room before Lizzy could open it.
It was from Emmeline, and Lizzy couldn't help but smile, for even though the manner of the penmanship was so excellent that not even the strictest governess could take issue with it, as soon as Lizzy read the contents, it reminded her painfully of her younger sisters. The letter was filled with kind words and praise for Lizzy, that word had reached Emmeline that so many members of the Ton were speaking of Lizzy's talent at the pianoforte.
Emmeline was so sweet, and eager to make a friend that it warmed Lizzy's heart. She resolved to write the girl back first thing, to return the kindness.
Dinner was a quiet affair, just the four of them, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner both exclaiming over the loveliness of Lizzy's hair, and praising Jane for the apparent help she had been upon Mr. Darcy's untimely (and very damp) arrival into the home.
"You both are a credit to us," Mr. Gardiner said with glowing eyes as he surveyed his nieces from across the dining table. "The Dowager Marchioness has mentioned she was pleased with your presentation, and if not for the weather today, she believes that you will be receiving any great number of gentleman callers in the days to come."
"It's no rush. The men can admire our girls, and come with their flowers, and their offers, but only the greatest amongst them will succeed," Mrs. Gardiner said, amusement plain on her face. "And with that, your uncle has some most welcome news..."
Lizzy looked to her uncle, feeling Jane tensing in anticipation beside her.
"Yes, well," he cleared his throat, "while we are here on Lady Bowes' charity, her sponsorship of you is beyond, I believe, a payment in kind for the favor we did her-"
"This favor that, to this date, neither of you has elucidated to us," Lizzy said, feeling rather pert, and her aunt gave her a tolerant smile.
"A tale for another night," Aunt Gardiner said, beaming with excitement.
"A night far in the future," Mr. Gardiner added, clearing his throat again, "well, this afternoon I received a letter from her." He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, skimming it to the end. "She says that she will call upon us to visit after the weather clears, but until then, she had settled upon the amount she wants to apportion to each of you for your marriage contracts."
"What?" Jane's voice broke, and she dropped her fork, uncharacteristically ill-mannered in her surprise. Lizzy felt as if a cat had climbed up her back, claws extended.
"She's... adding to our doweries?" Elizabeth asked, not able to believe it. The Dowager's generosity had outstripped belief, and now this?
"She said that you so impressed at the presentation, and at her dinner party, that she does not wish to find you lacking in any area, or, as she says here, unable to pursue a gentleman of value and quality that you admire for lack of funds that will follow you," Mr. Gardiner quoted, and then he grinned. "I cannot say I am displeased at her offer, for it seems she's apportioned out quite a good sum, more than enough for either of you to make a decent match. In fact... if either of you were my daughters, I would weep, for she has promised to the both of you, nine thousand."
The world seemed to swoop sideways.
Nine thousand. Nine thousand? Lizzy could barely breathe, it felt like someone had tugged the strings of her corset past function and into cruelty.
"So five hundred and four thousand each?" Jane's voice was hoarse whisper, and she had not rescued her fork, where the tines drowned in the sauce about her vegetables.
"No, girls," Aunt Gardiner chided, with some care, and much love. "Nine thousand each. To add to your current amounts, that would bring you to-"
"Ten thousand," Lizzy murmured, turning her head slowly to look at Jane, a chill setting in about her shoulders.
Ten thousand.
Such an amount, she could not even fathom it.
It was the amount of high-born girls, of young women with fathers who had invested wisely and focused on fruitful endeavors.
It meant so many things, but ultimately, it meant freedom.
She pressed her hand to her mouth, feeling her fingers tremble. She could... marry as she liked, to whom she liked. Loved, even, she hoped that would figure into it.
"I think this news, this most welcome, most generous news, and your successful presentation, will be the reason that many men will come to call in the next week alone," Mrs. Gardiner said, and Mr. Gardiner chuckled.
"And after that, they will see the quality of our girls, and know that to marry a Bennet is to secure a lifetime of happiness and joy, at least these wise ones we have here," he teased his wife, and she laughed in return.
"And to think, Mr. Bennet was worried about their prospects," she commented, and he snorted.
"As if the man would ever worry about such a thing," he said, and normally the insult to her papa would have had Lizzy bristling, but now...
Lizzy could hardly think, her mind reeling with the news, the possibility of ten thousand pounds, enough to attract fortune hunters for sure, titled men with not a farthing to their name...
"We must guard our hearts," Lizzy said, and reached for her sister, taking Jane's hand. Especially now, more than ever, not only must she guard her own heart, but she would need to look out doubly for Jane.
There would be a bevy of men, with pretty words, and poor Jane who knew not an unkind thought about anyone, would not be able to tell the rakes from the gentlemen, the fortune hunters from the true loves.
And that meant... more than ever, Lizzy needed to put her own happiness aside and focus on that of her sister's. A quiet sense of doom and resignation descended upon her.
Even as Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner laughed and joked over their neices' good fortunes, Lizzy's resolved hardened, as on the inside, she began to make plans.
Plans on how to foil men who were not worthy of Jane's love, of Jane's goodness.
And that left no room at all, she convinced herself, to think of the man currently upstairs, sleeping off the effects of a cruel winter storm.
My dear friends I have returned from urgent travel and am finally back in the comfort of my home. Is there anything like coming home? I say this as I have many friends in Asheville, North Carolina, and although America's eyes and attentions have moved on, the devastation there is enormous. Please don't forget them, pray for them if that is something you are comfortable with, and if you are like me, find some small way of giving back. I am donating small bits to local business owners who have lost it all and are the backbone of their communities, so at least they can afford little comforts, or even some necessities like water.
Keep them in your thoughts,
Nora