Thanks for the feedback so far. Yes, I'm fine Mrslove. I've just been working my day job more to keep my nose above water, so less time for writing.
Of course, on rewriting this I've realised I've had to drop a lot of the comedy associated with Darcy's condition, which is a shame because I do love a good laugh. So if you prefer comedy, the original might be your favourite version. But let me persist with this more gothic version and we'll see how it turns out.
The original chapter title suggestion was inspired by Laura SaintYves .
Chapter 4 Wanderlust
Miss Bingley was bored. She had exhausted the possibilities of morning visits to the few eligible families in the district, determining them all beneath her notice. She had discovered there was not a single shop in Meryton worth entering. Her sister's all too familiar company had paled. How she longed for her town friend Miss Westruther, who was Tonnish but meek and whom Caroline governed shamelessly. Caroline could see that Jane Bennet had possibilities as a substitute but her family did not bear thinking about. The boisterous Miss Lydia was not at all the thing, and Caroline could not like Miss Elizabeth with her sly, captivating ways.
Caroline would have invited Jane to Netherfield but her brother's over-particular behaviour towards the eldest Miss Bennet gave her pause—as a country acquaintance, Jane would do nicely, but she could not be contemplated as a sister-in-law. In a rare private moment, Caroline had unburdened her fears for her brother to Mr Darcy and found him remarkably sympathetic. He agreed it would not do to raise Miss Bennet's hopes unnecessarily.
But after a week of her sister's sole daytime company, Miss Bingley was at her wits' end. She had almost resorted to picking up a book. But a dinner invitation to the gentlemen of the house from the officers of the militia provided Caroline with the perfect solution—with her brother occupied elsewhere, she could safely invite Jane to dine at Netherfield!
Darcy had originally planned to join Bingley and Hurst at the Red Lion after sunset, but the day had proved so dull, the clouds so leaden, that he had thought himself safe to venture outside earlier and likely to get wet if he did so later. At three o'clock, with his eyes closed behind his coloured glasses, Finn had guided Darcy to his curtained carriage and accompanied the party to perform the same office in Meryton. Bingley and Hurst were under the impression that Darcy had one of his 'migraines'. Finn had assured them that his master had taken some laudanum and would likely be right presently if he avoided bright light. Bingley could not but admire the nobility and stoicism of his friend.
After waving goodbye to the gentlemen from the parlour, Caroline hastily penned a note and summoned a footman to convey it to Longbourn. Just over an hour later, she had the felicity to receive an acceptance saying that Jane would not be far behind her reply.
An half-hour after this missive was received, the heavens opened. An hour later, Jane Bennet arrived on horseback, soaked to the skin. Miss Bingley's shock on receiving her friend was great, for she had expected her to arrive in a carriage. When the housekeeper, Mrs Nicholls, helped Jane remove her drenched redingote, Miss Bingley's shock was even greater still, for the thin, wet muslin underneath revealed much of her friend's charms. Caroline could only be glad her brother was not present to view the spectacle.
Miss Bennet was bundled upstairs and one of Louisa's looser-fitting gowns was found to accommodate her. Though both Bingley sisters had grown up tall and thin, Louisa had become more plump since her marriage and had now acquired what her husband deemed 'a tolerable figure for a lady'. Miss Bennet, on the other hand, had more than a tolerable figure. With the benefit of her still damp stays, Jane was finally lashed into the elder Bingley sister's gown by two maids.
The rest of the afternoon was whiled away with cards and tea, as the rain turned into a downpour. It was quite clear that Miss Bennet could not return on horseback. Nor could Miss Bingley offer her brother's carriage, as one of the horses was lame, which was the reason the gentlemen had taken Mr Darcy's vehicle. Jane would have to stay the night. Nonetheless, Miss Bingley was hopeful that she could pack Jane off early in the morning before her brother could rise, for he was sure to have a sore head after his night out.
Caroline resigned herself to Miss Bennet's pleasant company. The cards were soon abandoned for fashion journals. Nothing could have been sweeter. Dinner was so enjoyable that Caroline almost believed she could stay longer in the country without much harm. Afterwards the trio entertained each other by singing and playing on the pianoforte.
The following morning saw a cessation of the rain. But Caroline's plans to send Miss Bennet speedily on her way were put into abeyance by the discovery that her friend was ill, not surprisingly, with a sick cold. This was a sad setback, but Caroline consoled herself with the fact that as Miss Bennet was bedridden, she was unlikely to see Charles and hardly in any condition to charm him.
Indeed, Jane found herself too ill to eat, but she requested a writing slope, so that she might send notice to her family. Jane penned a short letter to Elizabeth, telling her sister of her illness and begging her not to be worried if she heard that the apothecary had been called.
Nonetheless, upon receiving Jane's correspondence, Lizzy was distraught. She had deplored her mother's scheme to send Jane to Netherfield on horseback, knowing full well that it would rain. After some ill-considered tempestuous words to her mother, Lizzy repaired to the stillroom to gather supplies—barley water and white willow bark—for she did not trust the elaborate concoctions of the local apothecary Mr Jones, deeming simple things, timely administered, to be the best. Elizabeth drew on her pelisse and donned her sturdiest walking boots, for there was still much water on the ground. Although Longbourn possessed a second cob that could be ridden, Lizzy was no horsewoman, and the carriage could not be drawn by a single horse.
Thus Lizzy set off to Netherfield on foot to provide succour to her beloved sister, much to her mother's disgust, for Mrs Bennet said she would not be worth seeing when she arrived there.
After three miles of jumping over stiles and springing over puddles, Elizabeth arrived at Netherfield with dirty stockings and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.
Darcy who, in view of the dull day, had been coaxed into the dining room for a late breakfast by Charles, was thus present when Lizzy was ushered into the presence of the Bingley sisters in search of Jane. A terrible hush fell over the group on her entrance. They all stared at her so, that Elizabeth for once regretted not paying more heed to her mother's words.
But Mr Bingley soon remembered himself to jump up and bow.
"You must forgive us, Miss Elizabeth, for we have not yet had our breakfast and I know I, for one, am quite stupid until food has passed my mouth."
Elizabeth smiled at Mr Bingley's civility and begged him not to be disturbed. If a maid could but show her to Jane's room, she had come only to tend to her.
Mrs Nicholls, who had entered the room not a moment before with the tea, volunteered to do so at once and led Elizabeth off.
No sooner had the door closed behind their visitor than the Bingley sisters began to abuse her. It was: 'Did you see her petticoat, Louisa? Six inches deep in mud!' and 'Her face so flushed and her hair so blousy, Caroline!' and a torrent of similar exclamations.
Mr Bingley was hot in Miss Elizabeth's defence. "Her solicitude for her sister is laudable," he cried.
Her brother's partiality for anything Bennet could not be tolerated. Caroline immediately appealed to Mr Darcy for adjudication, knowing him to be a high stickler for proper form. Upon watching him bring his napkin to conceal his mouth, she immediately concluded he was rightfully disgusted.
But Darcy could not be drawn to say anything to condemn Miss Elizabeth. He instead returned his attention to his plate, whence he discovered that he had bent the tines of his silver fork at ninety degrees to the handle by pressing it down onto the table.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Caroline, following his eyes.
Distraught that her guest's sensibilities had been so disturbed, she motioned frantically for a footman to replace the offending implement.
Mr Darcy got up soon afterward, taking his teacup and muttering as he left the room that he needed to get back to his ledgers. Caroline glared at her brother as Mr Darcy left, as if his solecism in defending Miss Elizabeth was the cause of his friend's abrupt departure.
Arriving in the study, Darcy closed the door much harder than was his wont and preceded to pace up and down.
Finn, who had taken it upon himself to dust the entire library—for he could not bear that his master should be disturbed by a single cough due to Mrs Nicholls' poor housekeeping—was immediately apprised of Darcy's agitation.
"Whatever is the matter, sir?"
"She is here, Finn! She is here!" said Darcy without ceasing his pacing.
"Who, sir?"
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet!" cried Darcy, so agitated by her appearance in his realm that he immediately disclosed what he had hitherto kept to himself. "Finn, I fear for her safety. There is something about her! I do not know what! But she inspires in me the most unspeakable urges!"
Finn thought he began to understand why Darcy had ruined his hessians roaming the countryside after the assembly, even when they had prepared for the event most meticulously. He peered at his master in the dim light.
"Sir, you have blood on your lips."
Darcy set the tea cup down, touched his lips with his fingers, frowned, then pulled a bloody napkin from his pocket to dab at his mouth. "She surprised me in the dining room, arriving besplattered with mud. By all rights, her appearance should rightly have disgusted me. But it seems to have had quite the opposite effect. I cannot be in the same house as her!"
"It is likely," said Finn upon reflection, "that she will leave an hour before sunset, for her coachman will prefer to complete the journey in daylight."
"She walked here, Finn."
Finn raised his eyebrows slightly at this. It seemed that Darcy was not the only one who liked roaming the countryside. "Then she will leave by three or thereabouts, even better! Here!" Finn said, retrieving one of the new batch of port bottles that had been delivered from London. "Take some as a precaution, sir!"
"You are right, Finn. Thank you," Darcy said, calming himself and sitting down behind the desk. "I will focus on my work."
After setting a glass beside the port bottle for his master, Finn excused himself to monitor the situation. But when he reappeared in Darcy's study at half-past three, he did not have good news.
"Is she gone?" asked Darcy.
"No, sir," replied Finn regretfully. "Unfortunately Miss Bingley has asked her to stay overnight. A carriage has been sent to Longbourn to retrieve her effects."
"What can have possessed Miss Bingley to do that?" asked Darcy, incredulous.
"Apparently, Miss Bennet is poorly and she begged her sister not to leave her."
"Good Lord!" sighed Darcy. "I am going to have to sit with her at dinner!"
"Likely, sir, if she is willing to leave her sister's bedside. But I am sure Miss Bingley will seat her as far away from you as possible."
Despite his anxiety, this caused a small smile to form on Darcy's lips, which fortunately had healed completely after the breakfast incident. "Yes, she will, won't she?"
#*#
While Elizabeth had decided not to join the Bingleys for dinner, she had gone downstairs to brew a tisane for her sister's headache. She had changed her gown for a fresh one and added a high chemisette, for despite the fire in Jane's chamber the large room still felt cold.
But on ascending the stairs with the teapot, she encountered Mr Darcy coming down. With her gown gathered in one hand and the teapot in the other, Elizabeth did not notice him until they were abreast on the landing, whence she paused and glanced at him. His eyes would not meet hers, seeming to be fixed upon her chemisette. Darcy gave her a wide berth as they passed, sliding against the wall and only turning to give her a stiff bow once he reached the bottom of the stairs, before heading off without saying a word.
When Lizzy returned to Jane's bedchamber with the tisane, she was fuming.
"Mr Darcy is, without doubt, the rudest man I have ever encountered!" she expostulated after closing the door.
Jane turned a watery eye on her sister and croaked, "What has he done now?"
"He just passed me on the stairs without a civil word and slipped by me, hugging the wall, like I had the plague."
"Oh, Lizzy, perhaps he is shy?"
"Shy men do not pronounce ladies 'not handsome enough to tempt them!'"
Jane stretched out her hand. "Be calm, Lizzy."
"Yes, yes. Calm..., ca-a-alm...," said Lizzy, taking several deep breaths. Closing her eyes briefly, she regained her composure.
Lizzy poured a cup of the brew, then helped her sister sit up in bed to drink it. "Would you like me to read to you or would you prefer to sleep?"
"Please read," whispered Jane.
"Very well. I saw the Bingleys have a copy of The Mysteries of Udolpho when I had tea earlier with Caroline and Louisa. I took the liberty of requesting to borrow it."
"Is that the book from the circulating library that Mrs Long's goat damaged?" croaked Jane.
"Yes," replied Lizzy cheerfully. "It ate the first fifty pages of their copy. So we have never read it."
Jane sighed happily, despite her headache, and sank back into the pillows.
Lizzy perched herself on the end of the bed near Jane's feet to lean against the footboard and began:
"Fate sits on these dark battlements, and frowns,
And, as the portals open to receive me,
Her voice, in sullen echoes through the courts,
Tells of a nameless deed."
As she read, her hand played idly with the ruby cross at her neck. It was only when Lizzy paused to turn the page that it occurred to her that Mr Darcy might not have been staring at her chemisette after all, but her ruby cross.
After dinner, the Bingley sisters left for the withdrawing room and Darcy subsequently walked out onto the terrace, ostensibly to smoke a cigarillo, leaving Bingley and Hurst to the brandy. But Darcy did not smoke. It was a habit that his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam had adopted in Spain during the Peninsular War. Darcy's valet had merely brought some of the cigarillos, kept for the colonel's convenience in the study of Darcy House, when he had returned there for more of Darcy's clothes. Finn had appreciated their value as props.
Once on the terrace, Darcy vaulted the balustrade and headed off into the night.
Once he reached the edge of the sward, Darcy found the path that led to the tenants' cottages. He headed first to the cottage of the new arrival, John Fairweather, whom Darcy had contracted to build Netherfield's dovecote. Darcy had encouraged Bingley to implement a policy of distributing meat to the tenants at Netherfield and this unusual generosity had already attracted three new families to the half-empty cottages. Bingley had been impressed by Darcy's management skills.
When Darcy knocked, he found Fairweather whittling some of the dovecote offcuts into toys by candlelight so that he might sell them at the upcoming Meryton fair. They discussed the dovecote, which Darcy had decided to expand—it seemed that, like Darcy's housekeeper in London, Mrs Nicholls had a hankering for squab also. Fairweather was happy to comply—more offcuts and more toys.
After walking back to Netherfield after midnight, Darcy was fairly certain Miss Elizabeth would be safe from him. But just to be sure, he asked Finn to tie him to his bed.
Upon waking in the morning Darcy was disoriented, unsure of his surroundings. Was he in Derbyshire, London or Pest? With dawning recognition, Darcy noted the familiar window frame of Netherfield, but was perturbed to find he was not in his own bedchamber, which was larger. Sitting up, he discovered a rag around his left wrist—a remnant of the bandage Finn had used to tie him to the bedstead last night, ripped and torn. A cold feeling crept over Darcy as he recognised the scent on the bedclothes—it was Miss Elizabeth's.