Dear Reader, I started doing the Pinterest board for this story, largely by cloning the one for the original story. Then I was reminded of how much trouble they are to maintain. Pinterest are constantly tinkering with them. Your captions disappear or get demoted below an ad. Some of the pins get taken down. What a tragic mess! - like the sandcastle you built with your daughter which was stomped on by some other kid, the moment you walked away.
So rather then rebuild the entire castle, I've just cloned the pictures, only repinning ones that have disappeared. I've reposted the captions below. Not the most convenient arrangement, I know, but the most practical solution I can find in the circumstances.
Thanks for the feedback, MelodieMLB. I wanted to lay down the backstory, but I appreciate that readers are impatient to see their favourite characters, so the backstory may not appear until Colonel Fitzwilliam arrives at Rosings.
The title contribution for this chapter "Moth to a Flame" was suggested by Deanna27.
Chapter 5 Moth to a Flame
On recognising Miss Elizabeth's scent on the bedclothes, Darcy's heart skipped a beat. Was this her bedchamber on the guest floor? He looked around. A carpetbag was open on a side table, with the gown she had been wearing last night poking from the top. There could no longer be any doubt.
Panic gripped him. Was he a murderer? What had he done with her? He jumped up and looked around. No foul deed was in evidence. He opened the closet, looked under the bed, and behind the dressing screen. There seemed nowhere else to hide a body. In desperation, he looked behind the curtains.
Darcy attempted to calm himself as he tried to understand how he had ended up in her bedchamber. His memory was a blank. His mind ran through various scenarios. He tried the door—it was not locked nor visibly damaged. But it seemed unlikely that a lady, a guest in a strange house, would retire without securing it. Perhaps she had escaped through it when he had climbed in via the window? He went to the window to examine it. When he tried it, it was fast. Then he discovered it was nailed shut. So he had not come through the window...
Darcy looked at the door again—no sign at all of forced entry and the key on the inside. Darcy walked back to the bed. The sheets were not bloody, torn or unnecessarily disturbed. That she had lain there, he could tell from her scent. Could it be that her sister had worsened in the night and she had gone to her aid? Perhaps he had not encountered her in the room at all? Here at last was a sanguine thought, but not a very steady one—for having no evidence to support it at all, it had little to recommend it beyond hope. The fact that Darcy had no memory of his nocturnal excursion was his chief worry.
Nonetheless, as there was no suggestion that Miss Elizabeth had come to any harm, Darcy realised his primary concern was to get back to his bedchamber before he was discovered in her room or walking around in his nightshirt by one of the servants. He judged it to be about nine in the morning. The chambermaid would no doubt soon be making her rounds to light the fires before the Bingleys began to rise at ten. Fortunately his rooms were not far away from the guest chambers. He had only to descend to the half landing of the stairs from whence a short corridor led to his chambers. His rooms, Mrs Nicholls had said when she first showed him the apartments, had once been the nursery. They had been refurbished to their current state for the heir of Netherfield before his untimely death by accident at the age of twenty-one. The Bingleys slept on the floor below the guest chambers. Even if they had risen uncharacteristically early, there should be no reason for him to encounter them on the stairs.
Darcy let himself out of the bedchamber without so much as a click of the lock on the strike plate, to tread barefoot along the corridor. He had reached the top of the staircase, his goal within sight, when who should he see ascending the stairs in her dressing gown but Miss Bingley. On appreciating immediately there was nowhere to hide in the corridor, Darcy had resolved to confront her directly, when he saw she was not alone but followed by the apothecary.
Darcy realised he had no choice but to flee, but he hesitated for a fraction too long. Miss Bingley turned the corner to mount the next flight of stairs and with a look of shock, registered his presence. All he could do was grimace at her and give a shake of his head as he disappeared back into Miss Elizabeth's room. Fortunately the apothecary was preoccupied with his saddlebag.
Darcy heard them pass in the corridor; the door of the adjacent room opening. He waited till he thought they had passed inside. But when Darcy poked his head out to see if it was safe to emerge, Miss Bingley was still in the corridor, staring in his direction. She glanced into the guest chamber after the apothecary and then hurried back towards him.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
Darcy became uncomfortably aware that Miss Bingley was looking not at his eyes but at the gaping top of his nightshirt. He resisted the urge to fold his arms protectively across his chest, remembering his bandaged hand. Instead, he pushed his wrist behind his back.
"I must have been sleepwalking," he extemporised. "My parents used to lock me in my room at Pemberley." Ironically, this was the sterling truth, though Darcy had grown out of the habit by the time he was twelve. "Finn must have forgotten to lock me in last night," he added.
Miss Bingley looked incredulous. "But what are you doing in Elizabeth Bennet's room?"
"I do not know. I woke up here. She is not inside."
"She is with her sister," hissed Miss Bingley.
A huge weight lifted from Darcy's soul. She was all right! It was possible that he had merely entered the empty room after Miss Elizabeth had shifted to her sister's bedchamber sometime during the night; not encountered her at all! He could only hope that she had not sought refuge in her sister's room when he had imposed upon her.
Still, he saw a way forward. "You must help me, Caroline," he whispered confidentially. "If it is discovered that I have been in her chamber, I may be forced to marry her."
Miss Bingley's heart thrilled at Darcy's familiar use of her name. She immediately saw the force of this argument. "I will keep everyone in the Bennets' room while you return downstairs," she assured him conspiratorially.
After receiving his answering nod, Caroline hurried back along the hall. Upon reaching Jane's bedchamber, she glanced inside and proceeded to shoo him in the direction of his rooms with her hand. Darcy grimaced his thanks and fled silently down the stairs, disappearing through the door on the half landing.
His reappearance in his chambers caused Finn to bless the Lord and cross himself.
"Sir, where have you been?" asked his valet, coming forth with Darcy's quilted silk dressing gown. "I feared the worst when I found you had escaped the bandages."
"Oh, Finn! I woke up in Miss Elizabeth Bennet's bedchamber!"
Finn was aghast. "You did not harm her did you, sir or...?
"I have no idea," Darcy interposed. "I cannot remember anything. I woke on her bed, alone. Miss Bingley says she is in her sister's room, but I do not know the circumstances of when or why she removed there."
Finn considered this for a moment. "Well, until we know more, sir. I suggest, for the moment, we keep to your daily routine," he said, taking a kettle from the hob in the hearth. He poured a little of the water into a shaving mug and more into a bowl over which he draped a towel. Finn then proceeded to cut the ravaged bandage from Darcy's hand with a razor.
Half an hour later, Finn had just finished tying Darcy's cravat when there was a knock at the door.
"It is Miss Bingley, sir," Finn said, as he re-emerged from the short corridor making a face. "She wishes to have speech with you."
Pulling on his waistcoat, Darcy came out to talk to Miss Bingley on the half landing. She had taken off her nightcap and arranged her unbound hair charmingly over one shoulder.
"A chambermaid has changed the sheets in Miss Elizabeth's room," Caroline whispered. "You are safe."
"But what of her removal to her sister's room?" returned Darcy in an undertone. "I hope she did not flee there because of my intrusion?"
"I do not think so. She passed the chief of the night in Jane's room. She said that she is used to sleeping with her sister and does not mind that she is ill. Apparently she likes to sleep with the window slightly ajar and she could not open her window last night, so she changed rooms."
Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. "It is nailed shut."
"I suppose it must be broken," sighed Caroline. "Yet another thing the agent failed to mention! Will you be taking breakfast with us?"
"Will Miss Elizabeth be coming down?"
Caroline frowned and Darcy realised she had misinterpreted his question.
"If she is coming down," he explained. "I will take a tray in the study."
"That will not be necessary," Caroline replied. "Jane is still too ill to leave her chamber. I offered to send a tray up to them."
"Thank you," Darcy said, giving her an earnest look. "I will get my coat and glasses and be down in half an hour."
Caroline preened and hurried off to dress.
Miss Bingley's exultation in gaining Darcy's favour was only momentary before her mind returned to the problem of Miss Elizabeth. After housing Jane in Netherfield's best guest bedchamber as common civility dictated, Miss Bingley had not put her sister in the second best guest chamber, but in a small room next door to Jane's chamber that had originally been its dressing room—in order to encourage Elizabeth to go away. The room had been modified by the absent owner years ago to accommodate small cousins at Christmas, the connecting door hidden behind a closet in the small room. After Darcy had left, Miss Bingley had discovered during her examination of the room that not only was she unable to open the window, the door to the hall could not be locked despite its key. How awful if Mr Darcy had been forced to marry Eliza Bennet because of his sleepwalking!
Thinking that Elizabeth might have encountered Mr Darcy after all; that her excuse for removing to her sister's chamber might have been diplomacy, Caroline decided to offer Elizabeth a better bedchamber—one that could be locked. That would also explain the unusual order to the staff to remove the sheets after only one night.
Caroline also resolved to leave her own door unlocked at night—for her bedchamber on the floor below the guests was the one closest to the stairs and thus also to Darcy's bedchamber. Perhaps he would sleepwalk in the other direction, in which case she might soon call herself mistress of Pemberley.
Mrs Bennet, by a magical telegraph* that involved her sister and the apothecary's shop boy, was apprised of Mr Jones' visit to her daughter before the Bingleys had sat down to breakfast. In consequence she was soon on her way to Netherfield, with a check on her daughter's health as her excuse.
She was accompanied on her expedition by her three youngest daughters. Mary had been enticed by the local rumour that Netherfield had a great library, the truth of which she hoped to ascertain for herself. Lydia and Kitty had an ulterior motive. They were eager to visit the militia in Meryton, which detour their mother had promised on their way back. But they had also admitted to some curiosity to see the interior of Netherfield, which had been shut up for most of their lives.
Miss Bingley went to the window upon hearing the sound of the carriage. Peering between the curtains, which had been closed for Mr Darcy's comfort, she announced the Bennets' advent with distaste to the rest of the breakfast party. Mr Hurst made a face over his glass of vinegar, which he drank every morning to keep his figure. Mr Darcy promptly excused himself to the study, taking his tea with him. Caroline motioned for a footman to open the curtains after his departure, lest Mrs Bennet comment on the gloom.
After civilly greeting the Bennets and saying everything that was proper, Mr Bingley acquiesced to taking a morning constitutional with the Hursts while Caroline accompanied the visitors upstairs.
Mary was disappointed in not getting a glimpse of the library, but in everything else, Netherfield exceeded all the younger Bennets' expectations. Mary was very satisfied with gentility of the rooms she did see, while Kitty and Lydia managed to extract a promise of a social treat from Mr Bingley.
As for Mrs Bennet, after ascertaining that Jane was not at death's door, she was glad to hear that the apothecary had recommended several days' bed rest and promptly extrapolated to Miss Bingley that it would be dangerous to move her eldest daughter. Miss Bingley grudgingly reassured her that every care would be taken of Miss Bennet for as long as necessary.
After leaving Jane's bedchamber, Mrs Bennet made an excuse to return there as they were all descending the stairs, claiming she had forgotten to leave the vinaigrette she had brought for Jane.
In a hurried private conversation, Jane and Lizzy were then subjected to all manner of advice on making the most of their stay, delivered by Mrs Bennet with many winks and nods. Lizzy was mortified to discover that her mother was now willing to overlook Mr Darcy's slight at the assembly after hearing of his more conciliatory behaviour at the Lucases' soirée. But Mrs Bennet also mentioned some information from Aunt Philips—that Sir William had grossly underestimated the Darcy fortune—which likely explained her extraordinary grace. Elizabeth was forced to endure broad hints as to how to throw out lures to that gentleman.
On returning to the vestibule, Mrs Bennet lingered so long making conversation with Miss Bingley that her brother and the Hursts returned from their walk in the rose garden and Caroline was obliged to invite the visiting Bennets into the parlour for tea.
Over scones, Lydia asserted herself to remind Mr Bingley of his promise to hold a ball at Netherfield, which she had extracted at the Lucas's soirée. Bingley declared himself willing and was so amiable as to let her choose the day as soon as her sister had recovered. Lydia clapped loudly at her success, but upon finishing her tea, she was soon importuning her mother not to forget they were yet to visit the officers.
After waving politely to her guests from the front door, Miss Bingley thanked the Lord for blessed silence after their carriage drove off, causing her sister to titter in agreement.
Lizzy spent the entire day with Jane, reading when her sister was awake and sitting near the window employed in needlework as she slept. A maid took her place briefly in the afternoon, so that Elizabeth might get some fresh air. Jane felt slightly better towards the evening and when Mrs Nicholls enquired if Lizzy would be joining the Bingleys in the dining room, Jane encouraged her to go down.
Lizzy thought herself timely in doing so. But when she met Mr Bingley on the stairs, he apologised for being tardy, having lost track of time when out riding.
"My apologies, Miss Elizabeth. Dinner has been put back half an hour, " said Charles. "My sisters are playing at billiards if you wish to join them. Down the stairs and to the right."
Elizabeth smiled her thanks and descended.
The corridor to the right was quite short and only one door stood open, which Lizzy entered. It was quite dark inside and immediately obvious that it was not the billiards room. But as she turned to leave, her eyes, having adjusted somewhat to the gloom, spotted an interesting object on a table. It was a miniature alchemy set, with all the familiar accoutrements of limbeks, flasks and vials, but with its own little cabinet, in which it could all be packed up for transportation. Lizzy almost clapped her hands with delight.
Stepping forward, she saw a small notebook beside the apparatus—a miniature ivory tablet fanned open to pencil marks of a tally, with a line drawn underneath and a calculation. Beside it, a letter lay open, covered with beautiful script in a remarkably even hand. Her eyes had just caught the signature 'Charles B—' when there was a slight noise near the door.
Turning, expecting to see a servant who might redirect her, Lizzy jumped when she perceived Mr Darcy not two feet behind her. Her heart skipped a beat. How had he got so close without her noticing?
"Good evening, Miss Elizabeth," said Darcy in his low, velvety voice.
Footnotes
*the first telegraphs, invented in the early eighteen century, used semaphore rather than wires. The first successful semaphore network was invented by Claude Chappe and operated in France from 1793 to 1846. You will find a good description of a semaphore station in The Count of Monte Cristo.
Pinterest captions
[1] A carpetbag was open on a side table, with the gown she had been wearing last night poking from the top.
[2] He opened the closet, looked under the bed, and behind the dressing screen.
[3] Darcy realised his primary concern was to get back to his bedchamber before he was discovered in her room or walking around in his nightshirt by one of the servants.
[4] He had only to descend to the half landing of the stairs from whence a short corridor led to his chambers.
[5] Darcy let himself out of the bedchamber without so much as a click of the lock on the strike plate, to tread barefoot along the corridor.
[6] He had reached the top of the staircase, his goal within sight, when who should he see ascending the stairs in her dressing gown but Miss Bingley.
[7] Darcy became uncomfortably aware that Miss Bingley was looking not at his eyes but at the gaping top of his nightshirt.
[8] Ironically, this was the sterling truth, though Darcy had grown out of the habit by the time he was twelve.
[9] "Sir, where have you been?" asked his valet, coming forth with Darcy's quilted silk dressing gown.
[10] Finn considered this for a moment.
[11] She had taken off her nightcap and arranged her unbound hair charmingly over one shoulder.
[12] housing Jane in Netherfield's best guest bedchamber as common civility dictated,
[13] Mrs Bennet… apprised… by a magical telegraph* that involved her sister and the apothecary's shop boy
[14] she had forgotten to leave the vinaigrette she had brought for Jane
[15] Mrs Bennet lingered so long making conversation with Miss Bingley that her brother and the Hursts returned from their walk in the rose garden
[16] Lizzy spent the entire day with Jane, reading when her sister was awake
[17] It was a miniature alchemy set, with all the familiar accoutrements of limbeks, flasks and vials
[18] a miniature ivory tablet fanned open to pencil marks of a tally,
[19] a letter lay open, covered with beautiful script in a remarkably even hand
[20] "Good evening, Miss Elizabeth," said Darcy in his low, velvety voice.