One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (6 page)

Jane smiled and closed her eyes again with a sigh of contentment. “Your hands are so warm, dearest. They are very comforting. Do tell cook to start the hot-cross buns.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath before charging over to the bed where she gently pulled the covers higher in an attempt to preserve her sister's modesty. “Jane, Mr. Bingley must go and tend to business now. He cannot stay.”

Jane pouted prettily at Mr. Bingley. “Are you going to buy a pony for little Charles now? If that is your errand, go, but do hurry back to me. I cannot rest when you are away.”

Elizabeth looked in great frustration at the pair of them. “Mr. Bingley, I would speak with you.” She spoke firmly, and Charles stood with some reluctance, holding Jane's hand as long as he could before releasing it and following Elizabeth.

Once in the hallway, Elizabeth smiled warmly. “You are such a gracious host, Mr. Bingley. We are greatly indebted to you for your kindness. You do know, however, that for propriety sake, we must speak of this to no one; and you must not return to my sister's bedchamber, for it will not do.”

“She was calling for me, Miss Bennet...,” he trailed off. “I wanted to see her,” he admitted candidly. “I think that it does her good to see me, or she seems to think so, and she also seems to be rather confused about ... well, she seems to be confused about what time of year it is. It is not yet winter, yet she asked me when we were to paint the eggs for Easter and whether we would travel to Longbourn to visit her parents after church.”

“Yes, her injury does seem to have muddled a few things in Jane's mind.” Elizabeth acknowledged. “We must not give weight to the ramblings of one who has suffered a blow to the head. She will be right in a few days.”

“You heard her speak of 'little Charles' a moment ago, did you not?” Mr. Bingley chuckled when Elizabeth nodded cautiously. “Two nights ago at Lucas Lodge, I told her that, someday, my children would all have ponies, so they could learn to ride while they are young.” Charles spoke quickly, as if he feared that his powers of deduction would evaporate before he solved it. “And when we were carrying her to the house, she declared that I must make 'little Charles' stop teasing his sisters, for the eldest must be the model of good behavior to the younger.'“ Mr. Bingley's eyes became round with excitement as the final pieces fit together. “She thinks we are married! She thinks we have children! She thinks it is Easter!”

“Mr. Bingley, I fear my sister is not herself.” Elizabeth warned. “What she thinks at the moment is fantasy.”

“True,” he nodded, “but Mr. Jones did say that we should humor her until her symptoms subside. I am, I believe, the object of her fantasy, and I want you to know that I do not object to it ... if it will help Jane. I do wish to help, and will most willingly return to comfort her if you wish it.”

“Mr. Bingley, your offer is most generous, but I fear that when Jane does recover in a few days, she would suffer tremendous mortification if she knew of it. My sister will have enough embarrassment over the fall and the imposition of her stay here. Do not add to it by insisting that we indulge in a lie.”

Mr. Bingley looked crestfallen. “I see that you are right Miss Bennet. I will not interfere with your sister's convalescence again.”

“Bingley!” Mr. Darcy said loudly, although he was just a few feet away, behind them. Both Elizabeth and Mr. Bingley jumped at the sound, for neither had heard him approach. Elizabeth, not knowing how long he had been there, tried to rehearse the content of their conversation in her mind, wondering how much Mr. Darcy had overheard. “Bingley, the carriage has been waiting for some time now. We must be off.”

Mr. Bingley nodded, and walked briskly to the stairs. Mr. Darcy however, stayed. He stood, looking at Elizabeth as though he had something to say, so she did not turn immediately to return to Jane's room, but paused, to hear him. Finally, after a time too long for comfort, he asked, “How is your sister today?”

“It is too early to ascertain her condition, for she has just awakened. I must tend to her.” Elizabeth's hand reached for the doorknob.

Darcy spoke abruptly. “Her head—is it much swollen?”

Elizabeth nodded. “I fear it is more so today, sir.”

“You must reduce the swelling.” Darcy said.

“How am I to do it?” Elizabeth challenged. “The apothecary left nothing for swelling, only for pain.”

Darcy rolled his eyes and asked, “Is there an ice house nearby?”

“There is one in Meryton.” Elizabeth responded, wondering at the question.

“I will send for some ice and clean rags. Wrap pieces of ice in a cloth and apply it to the swollen area—use enough to make it cold. Do not stop doing this even if your sister complains. You must insist upon her cooperation. It may take time, but the swelling will subside with this treatment.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I will do as you say.” Elizabeth curtsied.

“You look tired,” Darcy commented. “You must also rest.”

“A woman always loves to hear that she looks tired, Mr. Darcy. Thank you.”

“I did not mean...,” Darcy sputtered.

“It is of no import what you meant.” Elizabeth replied serenely. “Indeed, it can hardly be expected that a person who has stayed up all night would look rested, so I did not expect to appear so. Your mentioning it has only strengthened my resolve to remain by my sister's side rather than to descend to the lower floors where I may be expected to appear rejuvenated, when in fact, I am not.”

“You cannot mean to stay with her all day.” Darcy objected. “Let a servant tend her when she sleeps.”

“I mean to stay with her until she is well,” Elizabeth replied. “No servant can have half the affection and care for her that I do. She is in a most vulnerable state, and I will not allow another to tend to her until she is out of danger.”

“You appear to be determined, Miss Bennet.” Darcy nodded his acceptance. “I will have a chaise brought to your sister's room so that you may have an opportunity to recline when your sister sleeps. This will, I hope, be an acceptable compromise?”

“Thank you. Yes, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth nodded gratefully. “That would suit me very well.”

“I am happy to oblige.” Darcy bowed. “Good day, Miss Bennet.” He stood back up to his full posture, and suddenly Elizabeth realized how very tall he was. She looked at him, up and down several times, a slight frown on her face as she recognized a glimmer of attraction to his powerful physique. She shuddered casting the thought away as soon as it registered, and quickly re-entered Jane's room.

Her look was not lost on Mr. Darcy.

Chapter Eight

Ruminations

M
r. Darcy watched Elizabeth retreat to Jane's room, standing for a brief moment to simply stare at the door that separated them before he turned to join Mr. Bingley in the carriage although not before he had left instructions with the staff regarding the promises he had made to Miss Bennet. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were to dine with the officers today, and Darcy found himself relieved that the ride was not to be lengthy. Charles seemed to be indulging in some sort of private reverie, forcing Darcy to engage in reveries of his own.

His thoughts, usually on business, horses, fencing and the like, continually turned upon his several encounters with Elizabeth Bennet. The last conversation, brief and tense as it was, had immediately put him into a state of restlessness and pleasant agitation over the encounter. Never before had any woman, particularly one of such brief acquaintance, had such a profound effect on his person. He perceived no mercenary tendency in her, which fact alone set her apart from the masses of ladies who vied for his attention wherever he went. Upon reflection, he realized that it was her apparent apathy toward him that first engaged his notice. Then, he had been compelled to watch her.

Elizabeth's face, which he had originally considered rather ordinary, had quickly become a point of fascination for him. It was a canvas of expression, so open and animated that to watch her converse was as engaging as watching a gem sparkle in the sunlight. It had not taken long for him to change his opinion of her beauty, for he knew that the word ordinary could never be ascribed to Elizabeth Bennet.

Her conversations with people who were not her intellectual equals were rendered interesting by the injection of wit she added to them. Her opinions, which she stated with confidence, were usually solid, although he
 
had
 
heard her playfully recite opinions back to people, paraphrased to make them think she was agreeing with them, when in fact, the opinion did not match her own. It was so respectfully, yet cleverly, done that he hoped someday she would do this to him, so that he might hear her impression of his opinions.

In their own brief conversations, he had the distinct impression that she was toying with him, verbally challenging him to a duel that she was certain to win, for she established the rules and kept them a secret from him. As perplexing as this was, he found her game engaging, and he inexplicably wanted more of it.

It was a perverse trick of the universe, he decided, that such a delightful creature should be born to a situation such as hers; for with no fortune, no connections and a most disagreeable mother, she was bound to a lower place in society than she deserved.

These ponderings left him discomfited.
 
His attraction toward Miss Bennet could not be acknowledged openly, lest his attentions be mistaken as intentions. Yet he could not ignore his feelings either, for he increasingly craved her company and, with each interaction, found more in her character and her person to admire. He knew it was imperative that he should quit Hertfordshire, not because he found it wanting, but because he liked it too well. He knew just as certainly that he could not bring himself to leave just yet.

~*~

Elizabeth set about eating some of the breakfast which had been brought to the room, although it was barely warm, so long had she been delayed. She had managed to get Jane to eat a little bit as well before her sister had dozed again. Mr. Jones had warned that the pain tonic would make Jane drowsy, so it was no surprise to find herself with no occupation. She would request a book from the library at the first opportunity, but for lack of company, needlework or literature, Elizabeth found herself alone with nothing but her thoughts to entertain.

She thought about Jane and the strange turn of her mental state, as well as of Mr. Bingley's response to it. She thought of her mother and hoped that she was feeling some guilt for denying Jane access to the carriage, and had thereby learned a lesson. She thought of her father, who had allowed her mother's foolishness in the first place, and of his subsequent resolve to bar his wife when they had been called to Netherfield. She thought of Caroline Bingley and what she had said upon Elizabeth's arrival yesterday. Finally, when all other thoughts were exhausted, she allowed herself to think about the seeming contradictions of Mr. Darcy.

Was it pride, as she had supposed, that had prevented him from dancing at the Assembly Ball, or was it as Jane had suggested, that he was reserved? He had seemed to be in attendance nearly under duress, so reluctant he had been to stand up with anyone. Although he had not paid her the compliment of singling her out to dance, neither had he slighted her, for he had danced with none of the local ladies, not even Jane.

He had been present at several of their calls to Netherfield to visit Caroline and Louisa, but it was only Mr. Bingley who had shown eagerness to know them. Mr. Darcy had kept his distance, writing letters or standing at the window with his back to the group. It had to be pride, as she had originally thought. Elizabeth reached her conclusion with a slight frown, recalling the way she had laughed about it at the ball and again the next day, excusing his pride because his behavior had amused her.

On the other hand, had he not sought her opinion? A man caught up with pride would surely not have done so. There were others he could have asked, yet he had approached her—and slighted Miss Bingley in so doing. Elizabeth smiled. This alone made her like him a little better, as did the surprising knowledge that Mr. Darcy had a sister. She did not know why this warmed her heart so, perhaps because the gesture of a gift proved he was capable of feeling or that it established at least one thing they had in common.

The mental image of him which she had taken just this morning flashed in her mind, and she blushed, although there was no one to see it; for in that brief instant she had acknowledged to herself that she found the athletic lines of his bearing pleasing to the eye. She had allowed him to be handsome from the first, but this was something more. It had sent a shiver through her body, a reaction she neither desired nor would nurture, for she told herself that such a raw, physical response had nothing to do with his character or amiability and, therefore, could have no place in her opinion of him.