Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Elizabeth was dry and warm, and she claimed that she felt just fine.
But, of course, her bonnet, her half boots, and her pelisse were still quite wet.
There were the unmentionables, as well; Darcy lacked experience to know if they were the sorts of garments that would dry quickly or slowly, but when Elizabeth sat down again, after ascertaining how wet her pelisse was (apparently very wet), Darcy decided to take advantage of the need for more drying time to curry her favour.
Darcy felt genuine concern for little Betty, but his lifelong reticence had kept his tongue silent on the topic.
But Elizabeth would want him to actually demonstrate his care, so he asked Abigail for a report on the toddler.
“From what I can tell,” Darcy said, “your little sister looks to be doing well. Would you agree?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” Abigail said. The girl was, he judged, twelve years old or thereabouts, and he was surprised at how often she glanced at him.
It was not as if he were dressed as a gentleman should be.
His riding coat was still damp, his waistcoat and cravat stretched out by the fire, and his hair was surely very rough and tumble.
Still, every time she looked at him, she smiled and blushed.
Darcy was beginning to blush, himself, from the girl’s glances. He asked Abigail about her mother and baby brother, and Elizabeth startled and abruptly got up. “Oh, dear, how could I have forgotten to check on Mrs Ackerman?” she cried.
“No, madam,” Abigail assured Elizabeth. “You blessed our family many times over, bringing the medicine for Mama and working with Mr Darcy to save Betty!” She placed a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder, a comforting gesture that seemed quite dear, from one so much younger.
Abigail said, “I have been checking on Mama this whole time. Her fever has broken, and she seems much better. We have not told her about Betty, since we do not want to worry her, and so I am hoping she will not see you two sitting here drying off.”
Elizabeth shot a teasing smile at Darcy. “I suppose we are clandestine rescuers. We save lives and then skulk in the shadows, away from respectable folks, waiting for the next victim to save.”
“Oh, my.” Darcy laughed, shaking his head. “I believe, Miss Elizabeth, that you must partake of novels. That sounds very much like a Udolpho mystery!”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed an O of surprise. Darcy assumed that she was as shocked to hear him laugh as Jim had been to see him smile. He had truly made a muddle of his time in Hertfordshire.
She covered her surprise with an upraised eyebrow and an arch smile. “You have found me out, sir. But it occurs to me that you know more about The Mysteries of Udolpho than one who has not read it ought.”
“I am guilty of having read it, Miss Elizabeth. Although, in my defence, I have been reading novels in my role as guardian. When my sister wishes to read a novel, I quickly read it first.”
Elizabeth nodded. “So you are like the Prince’s taster, who guards our Regent against poison.”
“Exactly.” Darcy smiled. “Honestly, my sister, who is about to turn sixteen, has had a very unfortunate experience this past summer. I fear that there might be a novel in the world that would vastly upset her. I am not positive that I should prevent her from reading any book, but I should like to forewarn her about one that might disturb her and let her choose whether or not to read it. Also, if I am familiar with the novel she is reading, I will better know how to answer puzzling questions that seem to come from nowhere, and I will better know how to cope with any melancholy that might arise.”
Again, Elizabeth proved her kindness. The expressions in her eyes and in her warm contralto voice were everything empathetic and kind as she said, “Oh, I feel for both of you. I hope she heals quickly, and I very much admire your wisdom in seeking to know what she is consuming, given that the ideas and characters—and even the settings—in novels are currently fuelling her imagination.”
“That is quite an apt way of putting it, Miss Elizabeth. I know you have expertise in dealing with younger sisters.”
Elizabeth looked down and then met his gaze again. Her voice was quiet as she asked, “I believe that your parents have passed? And that is why you are a guardian to your much younger sister?”
“Yes.”
“My sincere sympathies are with you, sir. I cannot imagine having both of my parents taken from us. Miss Darcy must have been very young when they passed.”
“She was but eleven years old when our father died. A babe when our mother died.”
“Oh, my,” replied Elizabeth, looking truly distressed.
Darcy said in a low voice, “In my case, many people seem to think that congratulations were in order, concerning my parents’ demise, because I was quite young to be master of so great an estate as well as many other properties and investments.
In contrast, in your case, I believe your mother has let the entire community know that you will all have to move from Longbourn whenever your father passes.
It is definitely not something to celebrate. ”
He tried to communicate his sympathy about the uncertain future her family faced, merely for the fact that there were no sons to inherit the entailed estate.
She nodded, and then she made an unerring guess about his feelings: “Does it hurt you badly every time someone treats your parents’ deaths as grounds for congratulations?”
“Yes. It is a terrible thing to hear. And I never know how to respond, what to say, how to arrange my face.”
“Sir, I believe the correct facial expression in that situation is a frown. And I do believe you know how to form that particular expression.”
Darcy blushed. “I owe the entire community my apologies. I am afraid my sister felt so guilty about… about her troubles from this summer… that she asked me to leave her with my aunt and uncle. And… I can tell you with certainty that the trouble was more my fault than hers. She was fifteen. She was living far from me, with a companion I hired—a woman of whose character I was sadly mistaken. I managed to stumble across them just before the plan—mere hours before she was—” Darcy stopped, emotion clogging his throat and washing his eyes.
Elizabeth leaned towards him and put her small hand on his arm.
“Sir, it seems to me that, whatever happened, or I gather almost happened, to your sister, she is not the only one at fault in taking on too much of the blame. It seems to me that absorbing more than one’s fair share of blame is a family trait. ”
“Thank you for your kindness, Miss Elizabeth.”
She sat up straight again, gingerly reaching out to touch her pelisse… “Mr Darcy, I believe my clothes are dry enough. I am certain that the Ackermans would be more at ease with us gone.”
“Indeed,” Darcy said. “I am ready when you are.”
He felt another blush on his cheeks while she took her garments and stepped behind the screen again, and he reddened even more when she came out carrying her stays.
She had rolled the garment up, but the fact that it was in her hand rather than on her body…
Well, he tried to ignore the thought and carefully did not study her figure as he helped her don her pelisse.
Soon she was buttoned up, bonneted, and shod.
He donned his waistcoat, cravat, and greatcoat and clapped his top hat on his head.
Elizabeth and Darcy said their farewells to the Ackermans who remained in the front part of the cottage, and soon they were out in the chill, approaching Freyr.
Elizabeth smiled as she turned to Darcy.
“Thank you again and again for saving Betty and me. And for backing my idea of using the assisted breathing. And for your conversation. I enjoyed getting to know you better.”
“Why do you seem to be saying goodbye?”
She sent him a quizzical look. “Well, Longbourn is that way.” She pointed to her left before continuing, “and Netherfield is this way,” she said, pointing to the right.
“Miss Elizabeth, believe me when I say that I cannot let you walk home for miles in a brisk November wind, not when you have been soaked to the skin so recently and still have damp garments to contend with.”
She tilted her head one way, somehow looking even more charming than before. She did not challenge him with words, but her expressive eyes looked fiery.
“My apologies,” Darcy continued, “but I must insist that you ride to Netherfield with me, and then I can see you home in a carriage.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “I am a very competent walker. And I walked here today already.”
“And that is another reason that you cannot walk back. Miss Elizabeth. The exhaustion of this morning’s heroic deed must be added to the exertion you have already undertaken to come here so early.
Also, you are mostly dry, but you are holding something that is yet damp.
” He remembered not to glance down at her stays.
“If you were to start walking and felt faint a mile from home, I could never forgive myself. Please allow me to escort you to safety and your home.”
She looked reluctant, still, although Darcy was certain that his common-sense arguments rang true for her. He hoped her hesitation was consideration for others and the desire to be independent—two traits he shared with her—rather than dislike of him.
Thankfully, she said, “Very well.”
Soon Darcy placed Elizabeth on Freyr, side-saddle, and he held the reins as he walked back to the Netherfield stables. The moment they stepped out of the stable yard, towards the front door, they heard a shrieking voice. “Mr Darcy is safe! He is finally back!”
“Oh, dear,” Elizabeth said. “It sounds as if a bird of prey is in hunt mode. You had best beware, sir.”
Darcy threw his head back and laughed. But then he asked, “Please do not leave me alone with the harpy eagle, Miss Elizabeth!”