Mrs. Bingley’s Sister (The Austen Novels)

Chapter 21

Elizabeth stood abruptly as soon as Bingley left the room.

"Sir, I am—I am so very sorry, so very sorry indeed to hear of Miss de Bourgh's perilous condition."

She watched as he looked at her, his expression bewildered and pained, and then he said, "Indeed. It is a terrible thing. Though it is not entirely unsurprising, unfortunately."

Elizabeth took a step toward him cautiously. She desperately wish to comfort the man, yet she did not believe she possessed any right to feel such a way. She recalled all the times she contemplated how Darcy might very well eventually marry Anne de Bourgh. But he never had, and she would have been thirty years old or even older by this point.

"She always appeared to be unwell," she said slowly, "At least, the time I met her, it seemed that way."

The implicit allusion to their time in Hunsford hung in the room for a moment, and Elizabeth colored and looked away from him, afraid she might have inadvertently reminded him of that rejected proposal. She waited a moment before figuring she might need to depart, so she turned and said, "I shall leave you, sir, since I am sure you'd rather be preparing for your departure than standing in here and talking with me—"

"No," he said abruptly, in a firm sounding voice. It startled her, and she looked back at him, her feet frozen to the floor. His face was stern but his expression softened when their eyes met, and he shook his head, opening his mouth to speak once more.

"No, I mean, you are not troubling me—in fact, I do wish to speak with you," he stammered, his face reddening.

Elizabeth turned back toward him slowly, and she took a step closer to him, standing just before him, gazing into his eyes which were worried, pained, upset.

"You care about Miss de Bourgh," Elizabeth said slowly, softly. He nodded.

"I do," he admitted. Elizabeth felt herself tense up ever so slightly. Maybe he was in love with her? She was unsure of how to respond, when he said further, "I do care for her, as one cares for a cousin."

Elizabeth felt her body relax at this uttering, and though she felt an incredible amount of relief (and guilt, for Miss de Bourgh was supposedly on her deathbed—what madness was it to feel jealous of a woman in such a situation?), she merely uttered, "So that is why you never married her."

She didn't know what possessed her to say such an improper thing. She immediately regretted the words coming from her mouth, saying, "Forgive me sir, I shouldn't have said—"

He stayed her voice with a simple wave of the hand, shaking his head and then stepping even closer to her, standing so closely now that they might be near enough to see every spot and blemish and imperfection upon one another's countenance (although for Elizabeth, she could not see anything but perfection in the man's visage). He spoke in a low, almost inaudible voice when he said:

"I never married her because my feelings—they lied else—"

The door burst open, and Bingley was there, saying loudly, "It is all arranged, the carriage is being pulled round, it is all—oh. Elizabeth, I didn't realize you were still here—"

"I knew Miss de Bourgh once, years ago," Elizabeth said breathlessly as she stepped away from Darcy rather quickly, making to leave the room, "and we were just exchanging words about her. I am shocked by the news, and I do hope Mr. Darcy can make it to her bedside before she passes."

She glanced back at Darcy, who bowed his head slightly and gave his thanks. She curtsied and gave him a weak smile before turning to leave. She could hear Bingley speaking to him once more as she exited the room, her mind racing with whatever it had been Darcy was trying to say. His feelings lied with another? Was that what he was saying?

Darcy was gone very soon, and Elizabeth sat in her room that night, mourning the loss of what might have been. She wondered if he would venture back to Netherfield at all whenever his business at Rosings was finished, however long that might take. She wondered about what the future would hold—would he come back to see her?

"Miss!" Sarah came abruptly into the room, startling Elizabeth out of her thoughts, "Miss, I'm so sorry, but it's your sister. She thinks the baby may be coming—"

"The baby?" Elizabeth shot up out of bed, "The child isn't due until September!"

"I know, Miss," Sarah said anxiously, "Please, hurry and come!"

And with that, Elizabeth left for the mistress's chambers to aid her sister in the unusual early birth of Jane's third child—all thoughts of Darcy were put into the back of Elizabeth's mind, his words of his feelings eventually becoming lost in the fray of the troublesome birth and precarious postpartum.