Chapter 12
Elizabeth Finds a Way to Comfort Miss Darcy
“Do please sit. Miss Darcy. Allow me to brush your hair,” Jane said with gentle persuasion, as was ever her way.
“I do not know if I could sit. I slept from overexertion earlier, but I now have too many thoughts in my mind.”
“In such chaotic moments, it is Jane we all wish for. Let her braid your hair. I promise, it will help.” Elizabeth led her to the bed.
No more than ten strokes of the brush had been passed through her wheat-gold hair before Miss Darcy began to cry. Revealing having only known such kindness from employed governesses and a lady’s maid, she confessed how dearly she would have loved a sister.
Elizabeth sat next to Miss Darcy, holding their young friend whilst Jane continued to brush Miss Darcy’s hair in slow, long strokes to encourage calm.
“We are so sorry you were forced into a situation by…that man,” said Elizabeth.
“His attempt to abduct you is beyond anything we considered yesterday. You protected yourself, and you are a heroine this day. You did not let him abscond with you. There is no doubt your guardians would move the Heavens to get you back.”
Jane said, “If you do not wish to speak of it, we shall not pressure you. Know you may talk freely, and we will keep your confidences always.” Her lilting, near-musical voice had the same effect on Miss Darcy as it did on everyone.
The younger lady soon steadied herself and knew some measure of peace. “I would very much like to speak of it. I fear I cannot talk to William or Richard, for they are still so furious.”
“Trays are to be sent up. You have all evening and the whole of the night to tell us as little or much as you choose,” Elizabeth said when the clock on the chimneypiece chimed.
“And you need not confine your topics to what happened today, or your history with the scoundrel. We are here to be with you. You may ask or tell us anything,” Jane said.
“I have never had such confidences told to me or been able to share them with a friend.”
“We are glad to come to know you, and with time, if we maintain a steady correspondence and see one another again, we will be dear to one another. You may write to us, and we will write to you, no matter where our paths lead us. And we are sure to meet at Rosings on occasion when visiting Miss de Bourgh and Charlotte, too,” Elizabeth said.
“If you marry my brother, Miss Elizabeth, you would also become my sister. And, as Mr. Bingley is almost another elder brother, I would be able to call you my sister, too, if you should wed him, Miss Bennet.”
“You are a dear, but Mr. Bingley may not feel so strongly about the matter, though I will say no lady would repine at such a future with him and claim you as sister. I agree we can hope your brother considers the matter between him and Lizzy quite settled.”
“He must, given his need to make certain she is well,” Miss Darcy said in her enthusiasm. “He talks of his walks with you, Miss Elizabeth, and I have never seen him happier than when in your company. Excepting these last two days, our time in Hertfordshire has been in every way enjoyable.”
“Do not misconstrue his intent or his expressed relief for our safety, I implore you. He may believe that nothing has changed between us, and I will follow his lead. We ourselves can choose to be friends who may soon be close as sisters, even should our paths diverge,” Elizabeth said to reassure Miss Darcy, squeezing the young woman’s hands.
“I wish to speak of my history with…him. When I was six, he was banished from our home. I did not see him again until this past spring. My then companion, Mrs. Younge, who we did not know was in league with…that man, put in motion a scheme to separate me from my brother. She suggested we travel to Ramsgate. Busy with managing the estate, he wanted me to enjoy being near the sea with new landscapes to paint.”
“An ideal elder brother, then,” Elizabeth said, unsurprised by this additional evidence of his giving nature.
“He is the best of brothers. He forgave all that happened in Ramsgate before I could speak a word of apology,” Georgiana said, tears welling in her eyes and falling down her cheeks.
“Perhaps you might learn to forgive yourself. It is more challenging than learning how to forgive another,” Jane said with compassion. “Speak of it in any way you wish or no more. Thus far, I find the blame is with Mrs. Younge.”
“I would tell you all and pray you will still feel the same about me when I have concluded.” The three talked late into the night.
Breakfast the Morning After
“Miss Darcy, we are needed at home. Our cousin, Mr. Collins, arrived yesterday and demanded to meet Elizabeth when he understood she was not amongst those of us who greeted him. He had thought to begin his visit last week, but his patroness, a Lady Catherine de Bourgh, required his attendance. Mother and Father promised Elizabeth would meet him as soon as we returned,” Jane explained as they sat down to the veritable feast laid out in the breakfast room that morning.
“How interesting. Lady Catherine is my mother, and you speak of our parson. I am sorry to say, but your cousin is a fool,” Miss de Bourgh said, shaking her head. “Do not look at me, my cousins know I speak true.”
“By all accounts I received in letters from our aunt, Anne, and Darcy, Anne speaks true. He is the sort to have around when one always seeks agreement. Ad nauseum,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said in support of Anne’s assessment.
The earl laid down the paper. “I shall go with you to Longbourn. In recompense for your aid to my niece in the hour of her deepest need, I will use my rank to stifle my sister’s sycophant that your family might more easily suffer his visit, Miss Bennet.”
“We require no recompense, sir. And I certainly do not wish to make things even more distressing for our mother. I fear we will be on his sufferance when our father dies.”
“I can imagine no more detestable a notion.” Anne shuddered.
“We shall have to see what we can do about that.” The earl turned to his countess.
“My dear, what say you to hosting a ball here at Netherfield? Invite some of the bachelors who claim our sons and nephews as friends? Perhaps one or two might make a match with a Miss Bennet, show Richard how it is done?”
“I would adore it above all things. You know me well, husband. Going a full day without planning something quite puts me out of temper. Yes, a ball is just what we must do. But what cause can claim a need to celebrate? The holidays? The harvest season? The solstice is more than six weeks away, so that is not a reasonable excuse.”
“What about a betrothal ball?” Georgiana suggested, affecting innocence.
“I can think of little else which would give me more pleasure. I can choose purple, nay pink, and silver ribbons and candles. But who is newly betrothed and also connected to Netherfield Park?” the countess asked with an artless air, causing the single gentlemen at the table to look at one another.
“I am certain Mr. Bingley will have requested a betrothal within the next three weeks,” Miss Darcy said with the same jubilation one expects from a town’s crier. “Might I stay through supper, Brother?”
“Ana,” Mr. Darcy said in an admonishment.
When everyone in the room disagreed with him through their expressions, if not in words, Elizabeth covered her lips to hide her delight. It was a peculiar sort of joy to watch him comprehend that answering ‘no’ or otherwise correcting his sister was unwise.
“And if you and Miss Elizabeth make a match of it sooner rather than later, I would be the happiest of sisters. You are both so fond of one another, and you will have a perfect love story to tell your children.”
Elizabeth could no longer contain her laugh. She was pleased when Mr. Darcy looked at her; his expression changed from a scowl to a rueful grin.
“A masterful attempt, Miss Darcy.” Elizabeth looked at her sister, then Mr. Bingley, ignoring the crestfallen expression of Miss Darcy.
Seeing Mr. Bingley and her sister blush, Elizabeth was gladdened. She would sacrifice all to know that her dearest sister’s happiness would soon be realized.
“Please stop staring at me, Sister dearest. There should first be an application to me, and only that if he is inclined,” Jane whispered.
“Ask her,” Miss Darcy pleaded with Mr. Bingley. “You will find none so suited to you as Miss Bennet. I have no doubt that you will do very well together. Your tempers are so alike.”
“I have come to that same conclusion and am glad to know I have your approbation for the match. I had thought we might wait until she had tea. It would be most embarrassing should she later claim unclear thinking if she accepted me at this early hour of the day,” Bingley said, glancing at Jane.
“You will accept him, will you not? We must have a betrothal so my aunt can plan a ball, the first I will be able to attend,” Miss Darcy pleaded to Jane.
“On two conditions.” Jane’s cheeks were violently red.
Mr. Darcy looked concerned and intended to reel in his sister’s persistence. Elizabeth held up a hand in a silent request that he not intervene and was relieved when he acquiesced. Jane’s teasing of his sister could only lead to even more celebrating.
“What are they? I am certain he will agree,” Miss Darcy said, all but swaying side to side in her seat when she looked to Mr. Bingley.
“There must be no pink, not even the punch at the ball,” Jane said with gravitas. Her lips twitched, but she managed to bite back her own when Georgiana and Lady Matlock erupted in laughter.
“But pink quite becomes me,” quipped Mr. Bingley.
“The other?”
“Mr. Bingley must inform my mother he is sensitive to lace, so she will not demand it be applied to every piece in my trousseau.”
When Jane arched her brow at Mr. Bingley, he swallowed noisily, feigning fear of taking on such a daunting task.