Pax, the Canine Cupid

3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Elizabeth made it back to her room and leaned back against the door as soon as she closed it. She could not decide how she was supposed to feel at the current juncture. She had knelt on the ground to play with Pax in front of Mr. Darcy. As a result, her dress needed a good cleaning, and she did not know if she should be humiliated, relieved, or intrigued by their encounter.

She knew she had not acted the part of the lady, but oddly enough, Mr. Darcy did not seem put off by her behavior. Quite the contrary, he had seemed to unwind the longer they interacted. He had been in a bad mood at first; he had kicked that stone at her unknowingly, after all. While she had no idea what he might have been upset about, it did not really matter. He had apologized and even moved to protect her from Pax when he had thought him a threat.

Elizabeth was left pondering the fact that Mr. Darcy was a true gentleman, despite his normally cold and severe disposition. His first instinct was to protect her and when she had behaved in such a fashion as to fall to her knees and play with her dog, he had not even blinked an eye. A woman like Miss Bingley, or any other woman of his set, would have most likely fainted dead away at her behavior. Moving to the small chair beside her bed, Elizabeth collapsed into it, landing in an unladylike heap. How was she to reconcile all the contradicting aspects of Mr. Darcy that she had been presented with?

Fact one, he had insulted her and ignored everyone at the Meryton assembly. Fact two, he had been acting oddly around her ever since she had arrived at Netherfield. She had interpreted his behavior as further proof of his being haughty, but would a haughty man have acted as understanding as he had that morning? Fact three, Pax obviously like Mr. Darcy, who was, she suspected, a dog person. Could a person who Pax liked be all that bad? What was happening?

Elizabeth found herself suddenly looking at Mr. Darcy in a new light—a confusing light. Sighing, Elizabeth pulled her mind from contemplating Mr. Darcy. She had a sister to care for. She would worry about puzzling out the handsome gentleman some other time. Elizabeth looked down at her dirty skirt and went to the bellpull. She would need some help changing, and then too Jane would need tea and something light to eat this morning. Elizabeth knew that if Jane continued to eat next to nothing, her recovery would be sluggish, so she was determined to tempt her into eating a substantial meal. She greatly anticipated the possibility of escaping Netherfield and the company of Miss Bingley. Her confusion about her interactions with Mr. Darcy only heightened her eagerness to depart.

The long ride had not helped cool his temper as much as Darcy had hoped. Patting his horse’s neck affectionately, Darcy nodded to the groom who had come to see to Agilis. “He could probably use a good rubdown.”

“Do not worry, Mr. Darcy, I will take care of him.” Reaching up, the young man scratched at one of Agilis’s ears, a grin on his face. Then nodding to Darcy, he turned, leading Agilis away to be rubbed down and cared for. It reassured Darcy that the young man so obviously loved animals.

Facing the house, Darcy rubbed the side of his nose. He knew he could no longer put off speaking with Bingley about his sister. Drawing his shoulders back, Darcy took a deep breath, knowing it was best to face the coming conflict head on. He was almost glad that he would soon have it done with.

Walking confidently, Darcy made his way into the house and into Bingley’s study, where he hoped his friend would be. He did not want to have to go searching for him and risk finding Miss Bingley instead. Only opening the door, he found something that he was not at all expecting.

Having changed out one orange monstrosity into a cleaner one, Miss Bingley was complaining, “It is not to be borne! The beast attacked me, ruining one of my best morning dresses.”

Bingley took a slow sip of his morning coffee before letting out a sigh. Then, he studied Caroline and asked, “But where did the animal come from, Caroline?”

Tilting her head, Miss Bingley snorted inelegantly. “I do not know! I am not the keeper of animals. I am the hostess of this dilapidated estate. All I know is that Miss Elizabeth had something to do with it.”

“I have not had nearly enough coffee to deal with this nonsense. You certainly do not seem to be injured, and I doubt Miss Elizabeth would have some monster on hand to attack you.” With his coffee cup in hand, Bingley took another swig.

In a display of frustration, Miss Bingley stomped her foot and declared, “You may doubt as you please, but it is essential that we remove Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet from Netherfield and put an end to their underhanded scheming.”

Deciding to step in and help his confused friend while confronting Miss Bingley at the same time, Darcy stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Your sister was not attacked. She fell while trying to shove a very large dog.” While Miss Bingley spun around with widened eyes, Bingley smiled to see Darcy there.

Darcy watched in fascination as Miss Bingley’s face morphed into a smile as she replied, “Despite Mr. Darcy's perspective, Miss Elizabeth had absolutely no justification for introducing her unruly pet to Netherfield and causing such chaos.”

Leaning up against the doorjamb, Darcy countered by saying, “Pax followed his mistress here of his own free will and has been happily settled in the stables with the horses. In fact, he has already made friends with the stable hands.”

“Did no one think to ask my opinion before he showed up?” Miss Bingley asked.

Chuckling, Bingley interjected, “It sounds like the dog made the trip on his own.” Looking at Darcy, he asked, “Is he really that large?”

Darcy nodded with a smile, knowing that his friend was just as fond of dogs as he was. “He is the largest dog I have ever met.”

Likely upset at being ignored, Miss Bingley seemed unable to hold back her annoyance any longer and blurted out, “Well, it is highly inappropriate for him to be here! It is inappropriate for any of the Bennets to be here. I only invited Miss Bennet over for tea, not the week, and yet we keep getting more of them! I am the hostess of Netherfield, and I want them gone!”

Feeling the weight of the situation, Darcy mustered the courage to speak up. “Even if she harbored negative feelings towards the person, a responsible hostess would set aside her emotions and dedicate herself to tending to a sick guest, doing everything within her power to make them feel at ease. I must express my doubts about your sister's suitability as your hostess on an estate,” he said.

“How can you say that?” Miss Bingley questioned, her eyes widening in apparent shock. She reached out towards him but only grasped air.

Her mouth snapped shut when Darcy stared back at her unflinchingly before turning to Bingley and saying, “Did you know that she never assigned a maid to either of the Bennet ladies? I had thought her snide remarks and constant need to put their family down were bad enough, but to not provide the basic courtesy of even a shared maid.” Turning to Miss Bingley, Darcy glared. “Providing a maid to a guest, especially a sick guest, is only the most basic of tasks done by the mistress of the house.”

Opening his mouth and then closing it, Bingley drew his lips up tight, forming a crinkle in his chin. Eventually he opened his mouth again, this time saying, “What do you have to say for yourself, Caroline? Do you feel that you are being a good hostess?”

Now that got her attention, and she seemed to lose some of her vigor, but she did not back down. “Do not be ridiculous. I have been an exceptional hostess. Don’t you like the meals I have arranged since we have arrived?”

“Planning meals is not the crux of being a hostess, at least not in the country.” Bingley said this with a certain amount of authority that Darcy did not recognize.

Rolling her eyes, Caroline snapped, “What do you know about it, Charles? You are only interested in finding your next angel. Who I might add should not be Miss Bennet. She is completely insipid and has none of the connections you will need in a wife.”

“I can almost guarantee that had your roles been reversed, and you were ill at Longbourn, Miss Bennet would have ensured that you had a maid there to look after your care.” As Bingley finished speaking, a twitch began in his tightly clenched jaw muscles.

Caroline took her favorite position, with her nose in the air and her disdain wrapped about her like a cloak. “As if I would ever deem grace that e state with my presence or have the gall to get sick while visiting someone.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bingley stood and pressed his fists into the wood of his desk. “Did you or did you not provide a maid for each of the Bennet sisters, as is the only acceptable action as the hostess of an estate?”

Making a sound that somehow resembled a scalded cat, Caroline slapped her palms down on the table and leaned right back into her younger brother. “Why should I enable those two grasping social climbers?” she growled. “I doubt Miss Bennet is even really ill. If they want a maid so badly, then they can both go back to where they belong.”

Realizing that Bingley was really getting nowhere with his shrew of a sister, Darcy decided it was time to speak up. “Bingley, I thought you had called Mr. Jones, the apothecary, to see Miss Bennet. Did you not?”

Bingley’s response was swift. “Why yes, I did. Mr. Jones confirmed that Miss Bennet was quite unwell and should not be moved until well after her fever receded. He assured me that though her illness is not life threatening at this point, it could get worse if she was forced to travel home unduly, even if by carriage.”

Darcy could see the exact moment that Miss Bingley realized how she had behaved in front of him as it filtered across her face. From his perspective, it seemed as though she didn't even register her brother's words, as if they didn't exist in her world. She was too preoccupied with strategizing how to present her actions in the most favorable manner. Contempt and scorn changed to concern and deference in a blink. Miss Bingley dropped her aggressive posture and the angry lines on her face disappeared so quickly that he idly wondered if it had hurt her face to change character so swiftly.

Adopting a demure pose, Miss Bingley simpered, “Mr. Darcy, I apologize for allowing my brother to bring up private maters while you are present. Charles, we really should not be boring him with such insignificant matters.” She finished her comment with a blindingly false smile in Darcy’s direction, and he had a hard time not rolling his eyes at her.

He did not want to put her on her guard just yet, so he tested the waters by saying, “That is where you are wrong, Miss Bingley. I came to Netherfield to help your brother learn how to become the master of an estate. This is just the sort of conversation that aligns with that purpose.” Darcy watched as his words seemed to seep into Miss Bingley’s mind. He could almost see her thoughts as they chased after one another, trying to find a solution to the problem that she had created. It was obvious that she was not willing to give up on making herself look good.

Bingley was studying his sister as well as he settled back in his chair. “In fact, Caroline, I have recently realized that there are several things that, as the current master of this estate, I have been remiss in keeping track of. Before we get into those matters, I would like to circle back to the Miss Bennets’ lack of maid.” Pausing for a moment, Bingley tapped his fingers on the desk in succession. It was a habit Darcy was familiar with. Bingley was thinking deeply of something, and Darcy wondered if it was the same thing that he had realized as soon as he learned that a maid had not been provided. Opening his mouth, he asked, “Upon Miss Bennet's arrival, soaked from the storm, did you extend the gesture of providing her with a maid, a room, and a change of clothes to help her dry off?”

Miss Bingley’s eyes widened only slightly at her brother’s question before simply saying, “No.”

Darcy tilted his head. Did she think that by providing the shortest and least helpful answers that she would not incriminate herself by her obviously cruel actions? Darcy was not disappointed when he heard his friend reply, “And how did you feel that not seeing to your invited guests care would contribute to proving yourself an excellent hostess?”

Mouth pressed into a hard line, Miss Bingley hesitated before once again smiling at Darcy as if she already had Darcy on her side. “It was Miss Bennet who chose to arrive looking like a drowned rat. I was not unaware of her plot to garner sympathy. I was resolute in my decision to thwart her relentless efforts to further manipulate her way into your life. Seeing to her care in such a way would be the equivalent of rewarding deceit. I am sure Mr. Darcy knows how important it is to remind people of their proper place.” This time, when Miss Bingley looked at him with a smile, he did roll his eyes. “I did not expect her to pretend to fall ill.”

Eyes narrowing, Bingley snapped at his sister. “I have already mentioned the fact that Miss Bennet is indeed ill. Your continued denial of such is not helping your case.” It was obvious to Darcy that his friend was growing tired of his sister’s game. “When Miss Bennet was forced to stay the night, did you, at that point, provide a maid and clothes to change into?”

Brushing at an imaginary speck of lint on her dress, Miss Bingley said, “Any of the maids were available to provide assistance had she summoned them. It is not as if I forbade them from helping her.”

“But you did not assign a maid for their sole use. Meaning that any maids that have helped them had to do it between their normal tasks, giving them extra work.” Bingley continued trying to push his point home.

Darcy considered both siblings. It appeared to him that Bingley was finally understanding just how petty his sister truly was. Miss Bingley, on the other hand, was digging her heels in. She would not back down until she had dug her own grave, so to speak.

Unaware of just how precarious her position was, Miss Bingley gave a simple, delicate shrug of her shoulders and said, “I suppose.”

Knowing that it was time to change tactics, Darcy said, “How are the tenants faring? Have you checked on any of them?”

“Why should I ever demean myself by visiting tenants ?” Miss Bingley’s voice rose as she spoke and ended in a shriek.

Having become tired of the back-and-forth, Darcy stepped away from the doorjamb and said, “Because, Miss Bingley, that is the responsibility of a good mistress of an estate.”

“Surely not! You must be joking, Mr. Darcy. Surely there must be someone else that sees to such menial tasks.” Miss Bingley began to laugh but her humor quickly faded into nothing.

Two years of dodging the woman’s unwanted advances had worn Darcy’s tolerance thin. The time had come to force her to confront the harsh reality of her position in the world and in his life. Opening his mouth, Darcy allowed her to see his contempt for her actions in his countenance. “It is evident from your lightheartedness that you have no comprehension of the role of an estate's mistress, which is just one of the factors that would prevent me from ever considering you as my wife. Yes, I have heard all your hints, and I have seen how you have tried to show off what you see as your accomplishments. I am not, nor have I ever been tempted to consider you as my future wife. In fact, had you ever attempted to compromise me, it would not have gone well for you. I know what you are about, but until now I have been too polite to point out that you know not the first thing about being the mistress of an estate. Not only that, but you are vicious and cruel, two qualities I abhor.”

Darcy watched as the truth of his gaze and his words sunk into her one-track mind. She seemed to realize that trying to impress him would get her nowhere and simply glared at him with her hands on her hips. “I will have you know that I went to one of—”

“Yes, I know you went to a seminary, but I will tell you this. It taught you nothing of importance to me. You learned only gossiping and petty posturing.” It seemed that once let go, the floodgates of Darcy’s frustration were wide open. He could not tolerate her any longer. Looking to Bingley, he said, “It seems that you have a discussion to have with your sister about household matters and I do not think I can keep a civil tongue if I stay here much longer. Besides that, I am hungry. I skipped a proper breakfast because I did not want to have to deal with your sister and her taxing ways. If you need me, I will be in the morning room. I am sure that you will keep her occupied long enough for me to eat in peace.”

With a nod to his friend, Darcy left the room, shutting the door behind him, not really caring to hear the details of the explosion that was about to happen. He walked down the hall, eager to get to the coffee and sustenance that waited for him there. It had already been a long day, and it was not even noon.

Elizabeth wrung out the cloth in the basin and placed it back on her dear sister’s fevered brow. The room was silent save for the sound of Jane’s labored breathing, and the lack of other sounds only seemed to increase her anxiety about Jane. The soft knock on the door had Elizabeth turning to greet the visitor, grateful for the interruption of her downtrodden thoughts.

A young maid stood in the doorway. She bit her lip for a moment before she said, “Hello ma’am. Mr. Bingley has assigned me to help you and your sister. I have been freed of my other responsibilities, and I can help you with anything you may need.”

Elizabeth was quite relieved to have the help. She had been nodding off in the chair in Jane’s room as she cared for her the night before and she could use some rest. Not to mention it would be helpful to have someone else in charge of meals and helping with things like her soiled dress from that morning. “Thank you so much for agreeing to help. Jane is not well at all, and I am sure she would do better with more than just my help.” Offering the maid a smile, Elizabeth asked, “What is your name?”

The maid gave a quick curtsy and said, “I’m Molly, Miss.”

“Well, Molly, would you know how to go about seeing a dress that needs laundering?”

“Oh sure, Miss, I can take any laundry you may need help with and see to it myself or there is another maid who is a right master at dealing with stains and the like.”

Looking over at Jane, who was sleeping fitfully, Elizabeth patted her hand and got up, gesturing for the maid to follow her through the sitting room to the room that was provided for her. The dress in question was laying across the bed that Elizabeth had roughly made that morning. It wasn’t that badly mussed, but it would have to be cleaned before she could wear it again and Elizabeth knew that it would be easier to deal with before the stain set. Looking at Molly, she blushed and explained, “I went on a walk this morning and well, one thing led to another, and my dress became soiled.” The maid back at Longbourn that helped her and Jane was used to her dresses returning from walks slightly mussed. Elizabeth had been with her maid Susan long enough to know that she found her habits enduring, but she would hate to give Molly the wrong impression.

Molly, however, proved herself unflappable and kind as she replied, “That is nearly nothing at all. I can take it now if you like and hopefully you may have it back by tonight or tomorrow.” Carefully folding up the dress, Molly then asked, “Are you needing anything to care for your sister? Tea or water, perhaps? Or have either of you had breakfast?”

“I asked the maid who helped me change to bring up tea and a little something when she had the chance, but I know how busy things can be at an estate this size. Hopefully, I can get Jane to stomach a little something, at least. I dislike how pale she is getting.” Elizabeth glanced back towards the doors she had left open between the rooms.

“Don’t you worry, I will see to the dress and getting you both some tea and something to eat.” Molly bobbed a curtsy and with a nod to Elizabeth, she made her way out of the room, off on her way to see to their needs.

Elizabeth felt some of the tension in her ebb away as she walked back through the sitting room and to Jane’s side. It had been a struggle to do so much for Jane without help. Not that she would balk at the task or complain. Elizabeth loved Jane and knew that she would do the same had their positions been reversed. As much as she wanted to scold Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst for their lack of common courtesy, she did not. It was not her place, and she did not want to create more drama in the house than there already seemed to be.

Removing the cloth from Jane’s forehead, she wrung it out in the nearby basin once more and dabbed at her face and neck for a moment. Then wringing it out, she placed it back on her forehead. All of this she did on instinct, not truly thinking about her actions because her mind had decided to go back to thinking about the puzzle that was Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy had learned only that morning that Miss Bingley had not provided a maid for Elizabeth and Jane and suddenly a maid appeared. He would never overstep his authority and ask a maid to see to them, so he must have spoken with Mr. Bingley. She wondered how that had gone.

It all made her more confused. On the one hand, Mr. Darcy seemed to have a tendency of being cold and aloof, but on the other hand, he realized she did not have something she needed and immediately set things to rights. And her dog liked him. Pax liked him a lot. Just who was the true Mr. Darcy? And if he was actually this thoughtful and considerate man who her dog loved, why did he behave in such a contrary manner at other times?

Jane forced herself to open her eyes despite the floaty feeling that persisted. It only took a glance around the room to remember that she was not at home in bed. Her sluggish mind supplied her with the memories to put the pieces together. She had ridden to Netherfield and become soaked. Without the proper care that she would have expected, she had quickly become chilled. The rest of her time became vaguely fuzzy. She had sent a note home and eventually Lizzie had appeared. Between the weight pressing down on her chest and the headache and chills, it was simple for her to realize that she was rather sick.

She observed her sister as she sat in the chair beside her bed. Really, she was too tired, and her throat was too sore to speak, but that did not stop her from wondering what had her sister so pensive and confused. There was something about her look that made Jane think it was not her own ill condition that had Elizabeth out of sorts. Sadly, Jane did not have the energy to think about it for long. She was quickly drifting back to sleep, telling herself to inquire about it later.