Chapter 1.7
“Darcy? What on earth happened to you? And Miss Elizabeth? We were about to go and search for you,” Bingley cried. “Are you hurt?”
“Dear Lord! What have you done, Lizzy?” Mrs. Bennet wailed. “Where have you been? Do you want to see me dead, child?”
“I am fine, Mama; all is well, do not worry,” Elizabeth replied.
“Well? How can you be well? Where have you been?”
“We should all take this noise inside; they do not seem to be enjoying the cold rain very much,” Mr. Bennet interjected. “Mr. Darcy, let John take care of your horse while you warm yourself.”
Darcy was confused and undecided; his appearance was unsuitable for company and he would have immediately left if Bingley had not been there.
“Mr. Bennet, I apologise but I must decline; I am not in a fit state to be in the ladies’ company,” he said.
“I agree. That is why we will immediately remove to my library, without the ladies,” Mr. Bennet said, allowing no room for argument.
Darcy handed the reins to John and reluctantly entered, exchanging a short look with Elizabeth. She hurried into the house and disappeared with Jane, followed by the other ladies.
“Lizzy, where did you find Mr. Darcy? How could you let him see you like this? What will Mr. Bingley say of us now?” Mrs. Bennet’s voice continued to sound in the hallway until it was silenced by the closing of the door. Darcy was too tired and too cold to even be amused.
“Darcy, you look awful,” Bingley uttered, as they followed Mr. Bennet.
“Yes, thank you, Bingley, I am well aware of that.”
“But where have you been? I thought you had long returned to Netherfield!”
They reached the library and Mr. Bennet invited them in.
“Mr. Darcy, while I pour some drinks, there is a small study through that door. You will find a robe and some slippers there. I have no clean clothes to offer you since mine would obviously not fit you but you should remove those wet garments as soon as possible. In the meantime, I will send a servant to Netherfield to bring you some clean attire.”
“Yes… Thank you, sir. I had wanted to ask you precisely this favour,” Darcy mumbled. It was his first visit to Longbourn and his first encounter with Elizabeth’s father, and he had presented himself in a most laughable state.
He did as suggested and put on Mr. Bennet’s robe and slippers; he felt ridiculous, intrusive, breaking all rules of decorum.
Even worse, his thoughts wandered towards Elizabeth’s chamber, where she had probably changed and bathed herself.
And that was while her father was waiting for him with a glass of brandy.
“Darcy, I confess I have never seen you looking so ill,” Bingley repeated when he reappeared in the library. Darcy did not miss Mr. Bennet’s repressed smile.
“Bingley, be so kind as to not repeat that; I am already embarrassed by myself and am trying to find a way to apologise to Mr. Bennet,” he replied reproachfully. Bingley was flushed, which suggested that he had already enjoyed some of Mr. Bennet’s brandy.
“I dare say no apologies are needed, Mr. Darcy. We could almost call ourselves friends, since you are wearing my robe and you arrived here alone with my daughter, wearing barely anything but a blanket.”
Darcy took the rebuke to heart and stood still, holding his glass, his face colouring.
Only hours earlier he had tried to avoid the daunting task of meeting the Bennets and that was the reason for his current predicament.
His forced visit seemed a twist of fate mocking him.
But then again, if he had joined Bingley earlier, Elizabeth would have been alone in the cottage, wet, cold, probably unable to start the fire alone, her health and perhaps even her life in great danger.
He shivered at that dreadful thought and turned to her father.
“Indeed, Mr. Bennet. I am very sorry for barging in in such a state. I am pleased to see you again, although I wish that the circumstances were different.”
“Actually, I insisted on you staying, so you did not barge in, Mr. Darcy. As for the circumstances, even a ballroom is not always the proper place for successful introductions.”
Mr. Bennet was smiling, but Darcy felt the sharp arrow of irony.
Undoubtedly, Mr. Bennet knew about his offensive remark about Elizabeth at the assembly.
Almost naked, still cold, with his bare feet in the strange slippers, Darcy felt too vulnerable and too ashamed to even find a way to apologise.
He could hardly make more of a fool of himself, but he did not want to take the risk, regardless.
“You are right, Mr. Bennet. There are times when a man can misbehave even if he is properly attired.”
Mr. Bennet seemed surprised by the statement, but he also appeared to understand it. Bingley watched them, puzzled but joyful.
“Fashionable clothes do not always make a gentleman, but the awareness of our own mistakes certainly does, Mr. Darcy,” the host responded. “Sit by the fire and we will join you. I will ring for some refreshments, you must be hungry. How long were you in the cottage?”
The question surprised Darcy and confused Bingley even more. Abashed, the former replied, carefully choosing his words. Admitting to a country gentleman that he had spent time alone with his daughter in a room, both undressed, was any honourable man’s nightmare.
“Less than an hour, I believe. I was caught in the storm and my horse fell, throwing me from the saddle. I could not find my way back and I was afraid that my horse might be hurt… The cottage was nearby, so…”
“The cottage?” Bingley interjected. “The one where we happened to meet Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth? What were you doing there?”
“Yes, Bingley. I was not doing anything but riding around when the rain began.”
“I assume you found Elizabeth there already. Jane suspected she might be there, and we planned to go and search for her once the rain ceased,” Mr. Bennet continued.
“No, sir. Miss Bennet arrived a little later; I had made the fire by then. She was truly in a very poor state, I fear she had spent a long time outside. Forgive me for being presumptuous, but I think you should fetch the apothecary. No young woman would escape without a very bad cold, considering…”
He suddenly stopped, realising he had no right to suggest any actions for a young woman who was a stranger to him. Mr. Bennet watched him with apparent preoccupation, sipping from his glass from time to time.
“I am astonished that you convinced Lizzy to ride on your horse,” he said.
All his senses, slightly dulled by the warmth and the strong brandy, were aroused as he recollected the feeling of having Elizabeth in his arms. During the ride, concerned for her safety and comfort, he had repressed any such thoughts, but suddenly the memories invaded him, vivid, delicious, and deeply mortifying considering Mr. Bennet’s sharp scrutiny and arched eyebrow.
“To be honest, I did not convince her, and I am sure she would have hated me even more for insisting. But sir, I considered only Miss Bennet’s wellbeing and I assure you we had no better choice.
She could not possibly walk in that weather and without proper shoes.
I pondered coming to fetch help by myself, but I doubted I would have been able to find the way here quickly enough.
I suggested that Miss Bennet take my horse, but… ”
“I doubt she would hate you for that, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet interrupted him. “As stubborn as she might be, I hope she is wise enough to appreciate the benefit of your decision. Thank God you arrived home safely.”
“But Darcy, this situation is highly compromising for both you and Miss Bennet!” Bingley exclaimed with an appalled expression on his red face. “We must explain to everyone that nothing improper happened, or else her reputation might suffer!”
Mr. Bennet patted his arm, amused. “Your concern for my daughter’s reputation is much appreciated, Mr. Bingley.
And I agree that such a situation would be highly compromising and could ruin the name of any lady or gentleman.
But this is surely not the case with Mr. Darcy and Lizzy.
Their mutual dislike is so well known in the neighbourhood that anyone who hears the story will only wonder if they fought or even hurt each other.
They looked truly ill, but unharmed, so I am quite content. Let us have another glass of brandy.”
While Bingley seemed relieved and his smile widened, Darcy’s bewilderment increased.
Indeed, one could hardly find a more compromising circumstance for a man and a woman, and it had crossed his mind that it might lead to a forced marriage.
It would actually mean that fate would force his desires to win out over his duty and his sentiments over his reasoning.
The notion was too fresh in his mind to decide whether he would be relieved or distressed by such a prospect, which apparently did not exist anyway, since Mr. Bennet had dismissed it instantly — even joked about it.
Knowing the family’s relatively poor circumstances and Mrs. Bennet’s desperation to marry her daughters to wealthy men — Bingley being her obvious target — Darcy could not help wondering why Mr. Bennet would so readily reject even the possibility of a connection to him.
Was Elizabeth’s opinion of him so poor and so widely acknowledged that not even his situation in life could compensate for it?
While he tried to clear his mind, the library door opened and the man Darcy had seen earlier with the ladies stepped in, bowing to him, a large grin on his face.
“My dear sir, this is almost the happiest and most extraordinary day of my life! It has been brought to my attention that you are Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, the nephew of my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park, and I could not allow a single moment to pass before I came to present you my most sincere compliments.”
Bewildered, barefoot, undressed, tormented by his reflections and dizzy from Mr. Bennet’s brandy, Darcy’s eyes darted to his host, begging for clarification and help.
The sparkle of amusement in Mr. Bennet’s eyes was very similar to Elizabeth’s and so was his jesting tone when the older gentleman responded.
“Mr. Darcy please allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Mr. Collins. As he has already mentioned, he is under the patronage of your aunt. We have heard so many things about Lady Catherine de Bourgh that we feel we are acquainted with her too.”
“Indeed, Mr. Darcy, I am in the happy position to inform you that her ladyship was in perfect health a week ago,” Mr. Collins added, moving nearer and bowing to him.
“I am very glad to hear that, Mr. Collins,” Darcy answered, still confused. “And I am pleased to meet you, just please do not come any closer, since I am completely naked.”
Mr. Collins stopped instantly, looking around, lost for words. He stepped back, and Mr. Bennet offered him a drink too, to help him recover from the revelation that, like any other man, Mr. Darcy could be naked at times. And probably Lady Catherine de Bourgh too.
Fortunately, soon afterwards, John returned from Netherfield with another servant, a carriage and some clothes for which Darcy was more grateful than he had been in a long time.
Another half an hour later, the guests returned to Netherfield, despite Mrs. Bennet’s attempts to keep Mr. Bingley for dinner.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth lay in her bed after she had eaten a large bowl of soup and taken some herbal tea to prevent a cold. Jane was sitting next to her, reading. Both knew the gentlemen were in the library with their father, but it had been established that the ladies would not see them again that day.
Jane spoke of Mr. Bingley’s long visit, but Elizabeth barely heard her.
All sorts of awkward and mortifying musings were crossing her mind.
Her clothes and Darcy’s were still in the cottage and needed to be retrieved soon.
It was still unthinkable that she had spent all that time with Darcy, alone, that they had changed their clothes there — a situation that she could hardly imagine occurring even with her future husband.
What would he think of her? What was she thinking of him?
Half the time he had been his usual arrogant self, especially when they had spoken of Mr. Wickham — a subject on which she was still not prepared to reflect much.
But the rest of the time she had hardly recognised him, both in manners and in appearance.
Strangely, she found him to be even more handsome without his usual restraint and severity and without his elegant, expensive attire.
He had made the fire — which very few gentlemen in his position would have done since it was a servants’ task.
He seemed very attached to his horse when others who could afford ten horses would not care much.
And he was very thoughtful towards her. More than she had believed he could be with anyone.
He had placed himself in a compromising situation for her benefit.
He had brought her home — riding together and protecting her from the rain and any danger.
He had held her in his arms, which had felt different from how she imagined a man’s embrace would be.
She vividly remembered his smell, the touch of his skin, his warmth, his strength, his breath, his lips whispering close to her ear.
As though awakened from a dream — or a nightmare — an image clearer than ever made Elizabeth almost jump from the bed, startling Jane who dropped her book.
“Lizzy darling, what is it? What happened?”
“Nothing, dearest,” she answered. “I would like a little tea, please.”
Indeed, her lips and her throat were dry, and she shivered as she took the cup from her sister.
“Lizzy, your face is flushed, you must have a high fever!”
“No, I assure you that is not the case. I am well, Jane. I will sleep a little bit and be ready for dinner.”
She lay back on the pillow, pulled the blankets around her and closed her eyes.
Immediately that image — shocking, mortifying, breathtaking, heart-racing — appeared again, too vivid to be denied any longer.
Although she had refused to admit it even to herself when she had entered the cottage and he had dropped the blanket, she had seen Mr. Darcy’s bare body in its entirety, from head to toe.
And what had seemed hidden deeply in her mind, suddenly invaded her head, revealing amazing — and tormenting — details of which she had sometimes fantasised and wondered about but never assumed she would see in any man, ever.