Darcy, Knight Errant (Elizabeth and Darcy True Love Multiverse)

10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

The library at Netherfield was sadly lacking enough books to really be called such, but it was one of the few places Darcy had hidden from Miss Bingley successfully. It was possible she did not know the small room on the second floor existed, which suited Darcy just fine. He had spent more than enough time hiding in his room with the excuse of completing correspondence.

Ever since the assembly, Miss Bingley had gotten worse, claiming to understand how much he disdained the people in the country town for their lack of style and manners. He refrained from contradicting her because it would be rude to dispute his hostess, but if she did not stop, he would be compelled to intervene soon.

The one good thing about the library was that it had at least most of Shakespeare’s best works. So, for now, he was sitting on one of the two chairs in the library reading The Merchant of Venice . Amid the loan negotiation between Shylock, Bassanio, and Antonio, Chambers burst into the room, abruptly interrupting Darcy’s reading. Knowing Chambers would only search him out if it was important, Darcy asked, “Is something amiss, Chambers?”

In his usual formal manner, Chambers presented a letter to him, bowing slightly as he said, “Sir, an express has arrived from Darcy House.”

Putting his book to the side, Darcy sat up in a rush, exclaiming, “Are they waiting for a response?” Taking the letter, Darcy noticed it was from Georgianna, and he could not help but worry.

“No, sir. Though I have arranged for him to get a meal below stairs,” answered Chambers.

Glancing out the window, Darcy took in the sun low in the sky and said, “Chambers, if he doesn’t have any pressing matters, can you arrange for him to stay the night? It’s too late in the day for him to make it back to London safely before it gets dark.”

“Of course, sir, I will speak with Mrs. Nichols.” With a nod of his head, Chambers left the room. Opening the letter in a rush, Darcy began reading.

Darcy House, London

Brother,

I will first tell you that all is well at Darcy House. You do not need to worry about me or anything going on here in London. Everyone here is well, though at the moment I am quite put out with you.

Before I can fully explain my fury, I suppose I should clarify something. Though I know I told you, I do not think you realized that my dear friend Lizzie’s home estate lies near Meryton. She returned to her home, an estate named Longbourn, shortly before you journeyed to Netherfield.

I must admit that I did not remind you that you would be in close contact with my dear friend. I saw it as my own little joke that you might happen upon her in some manner, and you might become acquainted only to realize the prior connection. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that you would dismiss and insult her.

I know you are uneasy at assemblies, but that does not give you the excuse to be cruel. Is this truly how you protect yourself? If I had written to you about overhearing two gentlemen talking about me, with one of them commenting that I was only tolerable, what would your reaction be? I think your reaction would be quite dramatic. My friend has no brother to rush to her defense as I do, but that does not mean she should be insulted without consequence.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet is one of the best people I know. In our brief span of acquaintance, she has been my rock, providing me with comfort and solace when I needed it. Her kind attention has been a catalyst for bringing joy and confidence back into my life. And yet you insult her? I am ashamed.

As someone who understands the difficulties of shyness, I know firsthand some of the challenges you face. However, lashing out is not the solution. You need to find a more effective strategy to safeguard yourself from individuals who may exploit you for their own benefit and improve your ability to distinguish between allies and enemies.

Despite your behavior, Lizzie states your words do not offend her. In fact, she saw to it that you received peppermint tea and headache powder. I expect you to apologize to her at the earliest opportunity.

I love you, William. I write these things to help you become the man I believe you aspire to be—the kind of gentleman I know you have the potential to become—just as I am aware of your willingness to support me in my journey to become the best gentlewoman I can be. No matter the challenges, I have faith in your ability to remain the kind person I know you to be.

Your loving sister,

Miss Georgianna Darcy

Collapsing back into his chair, Darcy ran his hand through his hair. How had he tangled matters so badly? While he had briefly felt guilty for what he had said after he had said it, he had never thought of apologizing. He saw that the young lady had heard what he said, but she had not appeared to be hurt, so he thought nothing of it after a few minutes.

Since when had he seen insults as a way to prevent people from trying to trap him in unwanted marriages? Was it sometime after the third compromise attempt? To protect himself, he considered any young lady or matchmaking mother who continued to pay him attention, despite his scowl, as a target of his defensive measures. In town, most people were pursuing his wealth, leaving him with no genuine sense of remorse. Georgianna was correct, though, and had someone said the same thing about her, he would have rained fire down upon the perpetrator. Had anyone tried to condemn his actions in the past?

He could remember one or two brothers who had tried to take him to task for his statements. It was to his shame that he had waved off and ignored them, usually by saying that his statements could not have truly hurt the young ladies, as he had seen no one cry. Or that it was their own fault for eavesdropping. He had often pointed out to himself that his friend Bingley had never corrected his cruel behavior, but he wouldn’t, would he? Bingley looked to him as an example of all that was ideal in a gentleman. He was not only failing himself and his sister, but Bingley as well. How had his behavior fallen so far from the mark?

Elizabeth gnawed on her lower lip in agitation as she looked out the window towards Netherfield. Her mother had once again tried her hand at matchmaking, having sent Jane off on horseback to Netherfield to have tea with Mr. Bingley’s sisters. Jane had barely left when a powerful thunderstorm arrived, trapping her sister at Netherfield and likely soaking her on her journey.

Elizabeth had seen the clouds in the distance and said that Jane should take the carriage, but her mother overruled her. Worse, her father found the struggle between Elizabeth and his wife humorous. He ended up supporting her mother by asserting that they needed the horses on the farm and prohibiting Jane from using the carriage. Elizabeth suspected he was still put out that she had taken him to task on her return from London for having let so much slide in her absence.

Now, with the sun rising above the horizon, Elizabeth wondered how her sister was managing her stay with Miss Bingley. Elizabeth knew Jane was not like her. She always attempted to see the best in people and frequently experienced disappointment when they let her down. Having met Miss Bingley before and knowing more of her from Georgianna, Elizabeth worried about her Jane. Fretting was not useful though, and so Elizabeth went to break her fast with her family.

Having lost her appetite from worry, Elizabeth nibbled on a roll. Across the table, Mrs. Bennet crowed to them all as she cut up her ham. “I knew just how it would be when I saw those clouds. My plan went perfectly. The weather trapped her there for the night and now she would have her choice of two wealthy gentlemen. If she does not come home at least courting, then she is not my daughter.”

Elizabeth caught Mary’s eye, and they shared a look. They both knew their mother’s hopes were preposterous, but there would be no point in saying so. The family continued eating, and mostly ignoring her mother’s chatter, until a footman brought Elizabeth a missive. Opening it immediately, Elizabeth read it:

Netherfield, Meryton

My Dearest Lizzie,

I find myself very unwell this morning; I suppose due to being so thoroughly wet through on my ride to Netherfield yesterday. Despite the best intentions of my friends, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, who insisted I stay close to the roaring fire to dry off, I couldn’t seem to rid myself of the chill that had taken hold. When they realized I was decidedly ill this morning, Mr. Jones was sent for. Do not be alarmed—I suffer only from a sore throat, headache, and slight fever. Might you arrange for additional clothing to be sent? I hate to be such a bother and continue to borrow Mrs. Hurst’s clothes while I am unwell.

Yours, etc.

Upon realizing what the message contained, her father’s laughter echoed through the room, a mix of amusement and sarcasm. With a further chuckle, Mr. Bennet reassured his wife, “Don’t worry, dear Mrs. Bennet. Even if our daughter dies of this illness, you can take comfort in the fact that it was all in the pursuit of a wealthy gentleman.”

Waving her husband off, Mrs. Bennet said, “She has nothing more than a cold. People do not die of trifling colds.” Then smiling, she added, “This is even better. Before, Jane would only have the time it took her to break her fast to win over one of the gentlemen, but now she can stay there recovering from her illness for as long as it is convenient to my cause.”

Pushing back from the table, Mary said, “I shall go gather some of Jane’s clothes to send back with the servant who brought the message.”

Calling after her, Mrs. Bennet said, “Be sure to pack several of her best dresses. Jane must look her best while there.”

What little of the roll that Elizabeth had eaten felt like lead in her stomach. Both Jane and Kitty, with their delicate constitutions, often battled lingering coughs as their colds settled into their chests. Angry beyond her current ability to keep silent, Elizabeth said, “Mother, if Jane is ill, she will be staying in her room in bed, not flirting with either gentleman at Netherfield.”

Looking at Elizabeth with scorn, Mrs. Bennet replied, “That, my dear, is why you will never marry. You simply do not know how to catch a husband.” Her statement had Mr. Bennet laughing once again.

Turning to her father, Elizabeth threw down her serviette and stood. “I am so happy I have been able to provide for your entertainment. After all, you only mock my happiness while my mother seeks to undermine my sister’s health. I will be going to Netherfield to check on my sister.”

Despite her mother’s screeching, she remained focused on her task and, although she felt guilty about leaving her younger sisters to endure their mother’s fits of temper, she remained determined. There was no telling how sick Jane truly was. Jane was often one to minimize her suffering, not wanting others to worry when they should. Then, too, Elizabeth worried that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would put forth the effort needed to take care of her ill sister.

She put on an old pair of boots that would help her manage the wet and muddy landscape and gathered her pelisse and reticule before heading to the stillroom. She did not know what powders and nostrums the Bingleys might have available, and so she took some of all that she thought Jane might need. In practically no time at all, she was off. Hopefully, the three-mile walk would cool some of her ire before she reached Netherfield. It would not do for her to arrive, still in a snit of frustration.

When they showed the subject of his ruminations into the room, Darcy struggled not to choke. It was as if the power of his thoughts had made Miss Elizabeth appear. Their eyes met briefly, and in that instant, a strange connection seemed to form before Miss Bingley’s strident voice shattered their moment.

“Miss Elizabeth, things must be more different in the country than I was led to believe, if guests may show up at one’s house whenever they choose.” Miss Bingley glanced briefly at Mr. Darcy before turning back to Miss Elizabeth and adding, “I did not know that I was to expect you.”

Though Miss Bingley’s tone was cutting, Miss Elizabeth did not seem to be in any way intimidated and that intrigued Darcy. In fact, the only reaction she had to Miss Bingley’s attack was to raise one of her eyebrows ever so slightly. Miss Elizabeth was obviously worse for wear and appeared to have traveled a long distance on foot. Several strands of her hair had worked their way loose and there was mud on her hem and boots. Darcy was so busy studying Miss Elizabeth that he almost missed it when she said, “I have come to see to my ailing sister, Jane.”

Bingley turned to his sisters, concern etched on his face, and exclaimed, “Miss Bennet is here? And she is unwell?”

Darcy and Bingley, along with Hurst, had dined with some of the neighborhood gentlemen and returned late because of the storm. They knew that Miss Bennet had been invited to tea, but there had been no mention that she had remained or that she had fallen ill. Though it did not surprise Darcy—Miss Bingley would have wanted to keep the young lady away from himself and her brother.

Taking a sip of her tea, Mrs. Hurst sighed but did not speak. On the other hand, Miss Bingley waved off her brother’s question with a snort. “Miss Bennet arrived at tea thoroughly wet through from the storm. Really, Charles, she was foolish to attempt the visit by horseback. I had hoped to see her gone by now, but she has apparently fallen ill. I have summoned the apothecary they have in these backwoods to see to her, and I am sure he will suggest she recover at home. There is no need to concern yourself.”

Bingley’s mouth hung open at his sister’s cruel dismissal of their ailing guest for a moment before it snapped shut and he stood. Gesturing to the maid standing by the wall, Bingley said, “I am sure that our maid can show you to your sister, Miss Elizabeth. Please reach out to me or Mrs. Nichols if you should need anything. When the apothecary arrives, please inform me if there is anything that can be done to assist your sister’s recovery.”

Smiling large enough that the power of it reached her eyes, Miss Elizabeth said, “Thank you, I will.” Then, giving a curtsy, she left the room, following the young maid.

Bingley looked down at his sister as she spread jam on her toast with a glare. Bingley cleared his throat and announced, “I apologize, but Caroline and I need to excuse ourselves for an important discussion.”

“Really, Charles, we have nothing to discuss. Besides, I am eating.” As if to prove her point, Miss Bingley looked away from Bingley and took a bite of her toast

In a move that he had never seen before, Bingley’s voice turned hard, and he barked, “Caroline, put down the toast, and accompany me to my study now!” Eyes wide, Miss Bingley did as commanded and followed her brother out of the room.

Once they were gone, everyone ate in silence. Darcy could not help but imagine what sort of conversation was taking place in Bingley’s study. Part of the problem was that Mrs. Hurst’s personality was too subdued when compared with her stubborn sister. Mrs. Hurst may have officially been the hostess, but Miss Bingley was directing whatever she wanted to the apparent detriment of others.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Darcy stared at the door Miss Elizabeth had only recently passed through. The lady’s presence once again brought to mind his recently realized failings. There was an ache in his heart thinking about how cruel he was to the young lady who had gone out of her way to be kind to his sister. More contemplation only left him to understand that, in all reality, he should be regretful for having been cruel to anyone. His position in life granted him many privileges, but being cruel was not one of them.

Once upon a time, he had thought that his father’s dictates and comments about him had been cruel. Darcy could remember thinking that when he grew up, he would never use his words to cut as his father did. Yet here he had fallen into the habit himself, if not for the same reasons. The former master of Pemberley seemed to take delight in using his language to put people in their place. Maintaining the distinction of class was of utmost importance to his father, and he insisted on receiving the deference he thought he deserved, whereas Darcy had used words and insults as a defense against those who would use him.

Regardless of how it came about, it was wrong, and he was going to work diligently to change his ways. He had already written to his sister to apologize for insulting her friend and he promised her he would work to do better. Darcy had planned to apologize to Miss Elizabeth at the gathering held by Sir William Lucas, but the heavy rain that evening had made it impossible for him to attend. Hopefully, while she was in residence, he would get the opportunity to amend his behavior and prove to her and himself that he was indeed worthy of the gentleman title.

It made sense that she would have arrived to see to her ailing sibling. A lady who was compassionate enough to note the sore disposition of his sister’s heart and do something about it would certainly journey across fields to minister to a sick sister. The state of her boots had certainly suggested such endeavors. While Miss Bingley would be sure to harp on her appearance, Darcy found that the exercise had rendered her quite beautiful.