Chapter 9
Though Mr Darcy had left some time before, Elizabeth still could not avert her eyes from the door.
Between the extraordinary events of Mr Darcy’s proposal and the shocking appearance of Mr Bingley, Elizabeth’s mind whirled with a tumult of questions while her heart remained imprisoned in a cold void from which it could not escape.
A sharp pain tortured her forehead, and she barely managed to keep her eyes open.
Miss Darcy’s concern, repeated inquiries for her health, and wishes to go skating soon made Elizabeth acknowledge a shameful distress.
It was unlikely that she and Miss Darcy would meet again on such friendly terms. She had no concern that Mr Darcy would betray the secret of their encounter, but she also was sure he would not allow his sister to continue their friendship.
Besides, how could she bear Miss Darcy’s gentleness after she had abused her brother so abominably?
That he had been neither polite nor considerate in his address was also true.
However, that did not diminish her own error in the slightest. She was certain she would die of shame if Miss Darcy—or anyone—ever learned of the appalling discussion between her and Mr Darcy.
Mr Bingley’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Georgiana, if you and Miss Elizabeth plan to go skating, I would be happy to keep you company. And perhaps Miss Bennet might be tempted to join us? I dare say it is a lovely idea. Would you not agree, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth glanced at Jane, wondering whether her sister would admit that she did not enjoy skating.
Quite the contrary, she replied that she would be delighted, though she was not a proficient skater.
Naturally, Mr Bingley immediately offered his assistance, and Jane blushed even more as Miss Darcy expressed her joy at these new additions to their group.
Elizabeth’s heart grew heavy; there would be no skating.
She was in danger of losing the struggle against her tears, so she gently excused herself to Miss Darcy, quickly embraced her, and then said goodbye to Mr Bingley and the other visitors.
She declared she was not well enough to remain in their company but assured them there was no reason for concern.
Surely, she would feel better after a long rest, she said, but nobody gave much credit to her whispered, unconvincing assurance.
As soon as she left the room, Mrs Gardiner sent a servant to fetch the doctor.
∞∞∞
The visit in Gracechurch Street was far too brief in Mr Bingley’s opinion.
In the carriage with Lord Matlock and the colonel, he talked incessantly about how happy he was to return to London and how grateful he was that they were kind enough to accompany him home, and how delightful it had been to meet Mrs Gardiner and to see Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth again, and—
“Bingley, I venture to say you are quite excited to be here.” The colonel laughed, but the earl rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“Where the hell have you been all this time, young man?” the earl demanded, and Mr Bingley’s smile paled.
“I was at my friend Matthew Morton’s estate, your lordship, as I previously had the honour of informing you. I—”
“Yes, yes, I know all that, but why on earth did you disappear without a word? Darcy searched after you all around the country.”
“I… Please forgive me, your lordship. I was not aware that anyone was looking for me. I was not feeling at all well in London, and I wished to be alone for a time. Had I known that—”
“Then how the hell are you feeling so damn well in London now?” the earl continued, and the colonel could not contain his laughter. Poor Bingley looked like a schoolboy scolded by his headmaster. He did not dare either to lie or tell the entire truth.
“Oh, I… It is just that—”
“Besides, did your sisters not inform you of Miss Bennet’s presence in town and Darcy’s search party?
And speaking of your sisters, you should do something to improve their social skills.
You are aware, I hope, that they are rude and frequently misbehave.
From what I hear, they have treated Miss Bennet and Mrs Gardiner abominably.
You might want to insist they apologise for their lack of civility.
So, you previously met Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth in Hertfordshire, am I correct? ”
Bingley was powerless to understand everything the earl was disclosing. He blinked a few times and tried to find an answer that—he hoped—would satisfy Lord Matlock.
“I beg your forgiveness for my sisters, your lordship. Without a doubt, I will speak to them. Indeed you are correct, sir. I had the honour of meeting both Bennet ladies in Hertfordshire. I feel very fortunate to call them my friends, and I was so happy to see them again today. I truly miss Netherfield. Those months spent in Hertfordshire were the happiest in my life.”
“Truly? I never would have guessed that, considering you left after only two months. No master leaves his property, and no man leaves his supposed friends after such a short time unless he is determined to abandon them forever. You should not have taken the trouble of leasing the place or making new friends if you were not capable of keeping them. So, you are a friend of the Miss Bennets?”
Mr Bingley had long lost all his joy and—apparently—his ability to speak coherently.
“Yes, I dare say I am and—”
“Then it is a shame that you did not make an appearance last night. You would have been very proud to see how admired they were. Every man in the room was impressed with their beauty,” the earl continued, enjoying a cigar and smiling at a pallid Bingley.
The colonel intervened, barely keeping his countenance.
“Well, I for one am happy you missed the ball, Bingley, as it allowed me more time to dance with Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. Can you imagine that Miss Bennet was engaged for every dance? I was tempted to ask her for a second set, but her card was already full. Thomas himself seemed very enchanted by her. I would not be surprised if she were to become family some day.”
“Well, I surely would not be opposed to such an arrangement, son. So, Bingley, why did you say you left Netherfield? And why did you not inform your sisters of your whereabouts? And who is taking care of the estate at present?”
Bingley’s pallor and long silence were almost too much to bear, and the colonel wondered whether they had been too cruel towards him.
The earl recalled his first encounter with Miss Bennet, and he felt that Bingley needed the torment and punishment just to compensate for her distress. Darcy deserved similar punishment though he had earned a measure of forgiveness for admitting his error and bringing Bingley back to town.
“By the way, where is Darcy? He looked like a wet puppy, lost in the middle of Cheapside. What was he thinking to appear like a lunatic at Mrs Gardiner’s door?
I surely hope he did not plan to call on Miss Elizabeth in such a state.
Did he not know that she was home alone?
” The earl seemed seriously displeased, and Bingley vacillated between worry for his friend and relief that Lord Matlock had transferred his censure to Darcy.
“I am worried about Darcy, to tell the truth,” the colonel replied.
“I cannot remember seeing him other than properly attired since we were infants. I should go and speak to him after dinner. It is fortunate that Miss Elizabeth did not see him in such a state while she was home alone; she seemed quite ill. She looked feverish with her face and eyes so flushed. To be honest, I am quite concerned about her. If I did not know her disposition, I would imagine she had been crying. I think we should send a note later and ask Mrs Gardiner about her state.”
“I would be happy to return to Gracechurch Street later, ask about Miss Elizabeth, and return to you with the news,” offered Bingley, and the earl rolled his eyes again.
“Your generous offer is impressive but unnecessary,” said the earl. “I dare say we have disturbed Mrs Gardiner more than enough for one day. A note will do perfectly well.”
Mr Bingley dared not say more on that subject or any other until the carriage stopped in front of his house. He entered after inviting his companions to join him for a glass of brandy. Both refused him, and he did not insist.
∞∞∞
“Thank you, Miles, that will be all for now. I shall ring if I need you.”
From his bathtub, Darcy could hear the servant closing the door behind him.
He still did not open his eyes but leaned back in the hot water and swallowed another gulp of brandy.
It was the third since he got home, and he knew he should stop, but he did not intend to do so or even to contemplate it.
In truth, he did not intend to think or do anything at all.
He would set his mind on sleep and not allow any thought or memory to intrude.
He was determined to maintain the same darkness in his mind that existed in his heart.
Darcy looked around, his head spinning with a sharp pain, wondering how long he had slept. He was still in the bathtub, shivering in cold water, the empty brandy snifter in his hand.
He hurried out of the tub and, wrapped in his robe, walked towards the window.
The street, though frozen and white, was quite animated, and he wondered what the time was.
He continued to stare out at people, carriages, and sleighs with unseeing eyes.
He remembered that the previous night he was preparing himself for a ball.
Those twenty-four hours seemed as distant as a year.
A cold claw gripped his stomach; he needed something to drink.
The room was dark, but his mind was unbearably light and clear.