Chapter 8
The rain lasted until around noon. Mr Bennet visited Mr Darcy for a few minutes, then he withdrew to the library, while the patient fell asleep.
As Jane was engaged in conversation with Mr Bingley, Elizabeth took the opportunity to speak to her father on the subject that troubled her.
“Papa, I must ask your opinion on something very delicate.”
“There is more? I hoped we had already exhausted all delicate subjects for a while.”
“You have no such luck, Papa,” Elizabeth replied in the same tone.
“In fact, it is delicate and very serious. Yesterday, when we were walking home, we saw Mr Wickham. He was standing holding his horse. We called to him, but he did not turn. Nor did he acknowledge our presence. He departed in a hurry, and we were curious to know what he was doing there. That was when we found Mr Darcy.”
Mr Bennet put his book down and took off his glasses.
“What are you saying, Lizzy?”
“I do not know, Papa. I have related to you exactly what happened.”
“Are you sure it was Mr Wickham?”
“I am. So is Mama and Lydia and Kitty, who are well acquainted with him. There is no room for confusion.”
“So, he just stood there?”
“That is what we saw. Mr Darcy indicated to me that he remembered too but did not provide me with any further details.”
“When did you talk to Mr Darcy?”
“Last night. Hill was busy, and I took him some tea and his medicine. Mr Jones and Stevens were there, and Mr Darcy was awake, so we talked for a few moments.”
“I see… Could Mr Wickham have gone for help?”
“I considered that possibility. But would he not have said something if he had returned and Mr Darcy was not there? Mr Collins heard the news about the accident last night. Surely the reports must have reached the officers too. He must know Mr Darcy is at Longbourn.”
“True. So, what do you suspect, Lizzy?”
“I am afraid to express my thoughts, Papa. If they are true, I would be disgusted by Mr Wickham’s actions.”
“You suspect he caused the accident in some way?”
“Oh no, Heaven forbid! I would not dare accuse Mr Wickham of such an atrocity. But the evidence suggests that he did see Mr Darcy lying there injured, and he did not care enough to fetch help. Papa, I am horrified to imagine that if Mr Wickham had left and we had not arrived, Mr Darcy would have died — if not from his injuries then from the cold. Mr Wickham must have known the consequences of his actions. Is it not horrible?”
“Very much so, Lizzy. Do you intend to do something?”
“It is not for me to do anything. Mr Darcy must decide if and what he wishes to do.”
“I agree… This is an abhorrence, though. Mr Wickham, whom you all adored, could be revealed to be a low-life human who deceived you all shamelessly.”
“I never adored Mr Wickham, Papa, but I did like and trust him. And that makes me a foolish simpleton. If he is shameless, I should be ashamed of myself.”
“My dear, sadly, you are right,” Mr Bennet concluded in his usual ironic tone. “Now, if we have finished this conversation, I shall go and see how Mr Darcy fares.”
Elizabeth was tempted to ask permission to accompany her father, but visiting Mr Darcy’s room for the third time in two days would be too much.
“Papa, come quickly!” Lydia shouted before they had time to separate. “Look, there is a large carriage in front of the house!”
“A carriage? Did Sir William tire of Mr Collins so quickly that he lent him his carriage to convey him home?”
“No, no, my dear. Apparently, we have visitors!” Mrs Bennet declared as they all gathered by the window. “It seems to be someone more important than Mr Collins.”
“Could Mr Darcy’s doctor have arrived?” Elizabeth enquired.
The answer came when a lady stepped out of the carriage followed by a gentleman who looked to be around Mr Bennet’s age. When the third person appeared, Mr Bingley exclaimed with much enthusiasm, “It is Miss Darcy! And yes, that must be the doctor. I shall go and greet her.”
The gentleman hurried out as if forgetting he was not the host.
Elizabeth glanced at Jane, who looked suddenly pale and disconcerted, then she gazed at the new arrivals. Mr Bingley bowed to them, there was a brief exchange, then he offered Miss Darcy his arm and showed them all inside. Only then did Elizabeth notice Stevens, Mr Darcy’s valet, following them.
The Bennets all stood up, waiting. Elizabeth felt a twinge of anxiety, and she noticed Jane looked quite distressed. The group entered, and there was a moment of mutual scrutiny from both parties.
“Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet, please allow me to introduce Miss Georgiana Darcy,” Mr Bingley said. “This is her companion, Mrs Annesley, and this is Dr Bates.”
He then presented the entire Bennet family, one by one.
“I beg your forgiveness for this improper and unexpected visit,” Miss Darcy said in a low voice that matched her obviously perturbed state of mind. “I am very sorry to bother you, but I could not wait another moment without seeing my brother. How is he?”
“He is reasonably well, our apothecary says,” Mr Bennet replied. “Dr Bates’s arrival was eagerly expected.”
“Then please show me to his room, and we shall continue with the pleasantries later,” the doctor uttered in a rather demanding tone.
“Of course. Let me show you there now,” Mr Bennet replied.
“I can take Dr Bates to the master if you do not mind, sir,” Stevens offered.
“Of course,” Mr Bennet agreed.
“May I see my brother?” Miss Darcy pleaded.
“I would rather examine him first, so I can answer your questions,” the doctor responded decidedly.
Those who remained in the room were all still standing, looking at each other with curiosity and apparent discomfort.
Elizabeth spoke first. “Miss Darcy, Mrs Annesley, please take a seat.”
“Thank you,” Miss Darcy whispered. She sat on a sofa, with Mrs Annesley next to her.
“We would be delighted to welcome you to our home if not for the unhappy circumstances that brought you here,” Mr Bennet said.
“Thank you, sir, you are very kind. When I received Mr Bingley’s note…I could not believe it… My brother is the best rider. He has never suffered any accident. Is he badly injured? Is he in danger…?”
On the verge of tears, Miss Darcy looked so young, her suffering so visible on her face that Elizabeth’s heart ached.
“Miss Darcy, I have spoken to Mr Darcy twice — last evening and this morning. He is injured, but I am sure he will recover soon.”
“You are Miss Elizabeth? You helped my brother write me the letter?” Miss Darcy enquired, her eyes tearful.
“Yes,” Elizabeth answered, somehow uneasy.
“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Please, there is no reason to thank me. Your brother was worried you might be frightened by the news, and he wished to assure you he was well.”
“I should have been more careful when I wrote the letter last night,” Mr Bingley interjected. “I thought of little else except how to summon the doctor as quickly as possible. I should have known you would be frightened, Miss Darcy.”
“I understand, Mr Bingley. You were worried for my brother, and I thank you for that.”
The fact that the two of them seemed to know each other so well and be comfortable in each other’s company increased the pallor of Jane’s distressed countenance, and Elizabeth gently squeezed her hand in comfort.
“But I do not understand. How did you arrive here so quickly?” Mr Bingley asked.
“The messenger arrived last night, at midnight, and I sent word to Dr Bates immediately. He replied that he would travel to Hertfordshire at dawn, and I insisted on coming too. I could not stay in London while my brother… On our way here we encountered Stevens. He gave me the letter and returned with us. My brother does not know I have come.”
“Oh dear… I am sure Mr Darcy will be happy to see you…but you must be very tired and certainly very hungry,” Elizabeth said.
“Indeed! What terrible hosts we are!” Mrs Bennet finally interjected. “We shall order some refreshments immediately.”
“Mama, I shall go to the kitchen to help,” Elizabeth offered.
“I shall come with you,” Jane quickly said, and they left the room before anyone could argue.
“What an unexpected turn of events!” Elizabeth whispered to her sister. “Poor Hill must be exhausted with so many people in the house. We must prepare a tray for our guests.”
“Miss Darcy is exceedingly pretty,” Jane said, her voice trembling slightly. “Miss Bingley told me she is very accomplished and exceedingly talented on the pianoforte.”
“I am sure she is. And indeed, she is very pretty.”
“Have you noticed that she and Mr Bingley seem very comfortable with each other?”
“Of course they are. He and her brother are close friends.”
“But Lizzy, Mr Darcy is not so comfortable with either of Mr Bingley’s sisters.”
“Well, it might be because Mr Darcy is too proud and vain for such familiarity. Or because Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst are so annoying.”
“Lizzy!” Jane reproached her. “Please be serious! I cannot laugh at that.”
“At what, Jane? At Mr Bingley and Miss Darcy being comfortable in each other’s company? Surely you are not jealous!”
“I am not,” Jane answered after a brief hesitation. “I just wish to know… He seems to admire her and was happy to see her.”
“Dearest Jane, now you are being silly. I am sure Mr Bingley admires Miss Darcy and they were happy to see each other. That is friendship. If there was something more, Mr Bingley would surely not spend so much time in our home, by your side, and would not be so much at ease to introduce you to her.”
“I do not know, Lizzy…”
“Please try to see reason, my dear. Mr Bingley’s admiration for you is no secret from anyone. Do you suspect he is a dishonourable scoundrel who is trifling with you while having a romantic attachment to his friend’s sister?”
“Of course not!”
“There, you have your answer. Now let us prepare the tray. Poor Miss Darcy must be starved and exhausted and desperately worried for her brother. I cannot imagine how she felt fearing that she might lose him given she has already lost both her parents.”