Chapter 2.5
Darcy was only too happy to accept Doctor Jarvis’s recommendation to stay in bed for several days.
The doctor suspected that a branch had struck Darcy’s head while he was galloping and the shock had thrown him from the saddle. Likely his foot remained caught in the stirrup and this was how he sprained his ankle. Hopefully, no bones were broken, so he trusted he would fully recover within a week.
Staying in his room at Rosings was the best way of avoiding Elizabeth for the rest of his remaining time in Kent. Being close to her was unsafe. Dangerous. Tormenting.
Even that day, when he could have been badly wounded, his most vivid memories were related to Elizabeth.
He was absent-minded and suffered the accident because he was paying little attention to his surroundings.
Then, while she was apparently trying to awaken him, he assumed it was another dream and God knows what he might have done or said in his unconsciousness.
Despite his ill state, he did feel her falling on top of him, her face touching his, her body crushed against his own.
For a moment only, but such a powerful moment, such a long-lasting memory.
He was grateful to her for discovering him and for her offer to find help. And he loathed his stupid statement that he had never fallen from a horse. Really? Was that a moment for boasting? Of course, she arched her brow and rolled her eyes—he deserved no better.
When she decided to go to Rosings, he was more concerned for her than for himself. He feared she might catch a cold, but also that she might suffer an accident in the rain, too.
With much guilt and self-remorse, he had to admit that he did cast a brief look at her image—so improper, so completely disarrayed, and so utterly charming. Bewitching. Alluring. He could not find enough words to describe his admiration.
Her braveness and determination in hurrying to help him were rare and commendable qualities.
She was simply admirable. Every time they met, she seemed to give him further proof of her worthiness, which grieved him even more.
She had everything he expected in a woman, and yet, her family’s circumstances made her unsuitable as the next Mrs. Darcy.
His best defence was to remain far from her—and the wound keeping him in his chamber was the best excuse.
∞∞∞
Three days passed with relative calmness both at Rosings and at the Parsonage.
Darcy did not leave his chamber. The doctor visited him daily, but there was lasting damage from his accident. He had all his meals in his room and at times, the colonel and Anne would visit him.
On the third day, late in the afternoon, the colonel came alone.
“How are you, Darcy?”
“Very well, indeed. The doctor promised me I would be able to leave my bed in two days,” Darcy said, glancing at his cousin who was pacing the room in an obviously troubled state. “How are you, Robert?”
“Good, good. Me? I am very well. There is something very delicate we must discuss.”
Darcy’s eyebrow arched. “Delicate? I have not heard you use that word in a while. For years, actually.”
“Well, the word was not needed before. But now it is very appropriate.”
“You are frightening me, Robert. What has happened?”
“Shall I pour you a glass of brandy?”
“No, thank you.”
“Trust me, Darcy, you will need it.”
“I will need it?” Darcy looked at his cousin with puzzlement. “Is your news so bad?”
“You will have to judge for yourself.” The colonel took his glass and sat down in a large armchair. Darcy was sitting on his bed, his leg stretched out and still.
“Well? Do tell, Robert; I am not fond of such a mystery.”
“Then let me be blunt: there are rumours in the village about you and Miss Bennet.”
Darcy expected to hear his cousin revealing some secret from his private affairs. When he heard Elizabeth’s name mentioned, he frowned and froze. His first thought was that someone had read his papers, after all. He was stunned, frightened by the damage he had caused.
“Excuse me?” he managed to articulate.
“There are rumours. Gossip. About you and Miss Bennet being alone in the woods when the accident occurred.”
Darcy listened to his cousin, then his torment dissipated in the blink of an eye, banished by his vexation.
“Excuse me??? Miss Bennet found me and saved me. I was unconscious! What is there to gossip about?”
His fear for his indiscretion was relieved, but he was appalled and angry that someone might find any fault in Elizabeth’s actions.
“Well, people are ready to find fault even in the most honourable and brave actions. There are suspicions that you and Miss Bennet are involved in some intimate affair. That you met in the wood. It is said that both your clothes were wet and messy. And that you seemed like you had kissed since your faces were dirty. And other nonsense.”
“What on Earth…?” Darcy replied angrily. “That Mr. Thomson and his family will know my rage, instead of my gratitude, I am telling you that. They are mean, laughable and utterly stupid.”
“Calm down, Darcy. You do not know who has started these rumours.”
“I certainly know and I am appalled and ashamed on behalf of Miss Bennet and angry on behalf of myself. Really???? Could anyone imagine I would conduct an intimate meeting with a woman in the wood? In the rain? On the grass? What on Earth???? What sort of man of my age and in my position would do that? I feel so offended that I might call someone out! And poor Miss Bennet! She saved me and instead of gratitude and acknowledgement, she finds herself the object of censure, rumours and gossip? What on Earth?”
“You know people are more generous with censure than with praise. And any reason for gossip will do. But yes, you have an excellent point. A private meeting in the woods, with no blanket, nothing?” the colonel laughed.
“It is ridiculous, indeed—especially when we are talking about you. If I was the object of such talk, it would have made more sense.”
“Robert, sadly I cannot laugh. Miss Bennet is caught in the middle of these rumours that might affect her reputation for her entire life. Hers and her family’s. Where did you hear this nonsense?”
“At the inn. I went in to have a drink. Smith, the innkeeper, has an excellent wine and a good lamb steak. I was quite put out when I heard some of the peasants prattling. They did not recognise me at first until I rebuked them. But I doubt such words and stupidity can be easily stopped.”
Darcy ran his fingers through his hair, his distress increasing. “I am exceedingly ashamed for Miss Bennet. I hope she is not aware of what people are saying about her.”
“Well, if she does not know yet, she will surely find out soon. That goof Collins is a perfect gossip spreader.”
“This is truly horrible,” Darcy mumbled. He tried to get up, but the colonel interjected.
“Darcy, calm yourself. Where are you going to go? Guard your temper before you hurt your leg again.”
“Damn the leg! That is what caused all this mess!”
“Well, you know best—it is your leg, after all,” the colonel attempted to jest.
“I must confront that Thomson man. It is his fault. Or those who were with him.”
“To what purpose? And how can you be sure?”
“How can I not? It all began with the way they spread gossip about. They should have kept their mouths shut!”
“Did you ask them to keep the secret, Darcy?”
“Secret? What are you talking about? What secret? No man in his right mind would consider that falling from a horse was a secret! Except to preserve my vanity, perhaps!”
“The damage is done. I am sure you will find a solution by morning. You always do. Would you care for another drink?”
Darcy nodded and the colonel filled their glasses again.
“I must speak to Miss Bennet in the morning. And perhaps I should write to her father and explain the circumstances to him. Express my gratitude for Miss Bennet’s help.”
“Yes, I believe that must be done. And let us hope the rumours will fade soon. Although, in this little village where nothing happens, it might be the most interesting subject they have heard in a while.”
“Thank you, Robert, very encouraging.”
“Well then, as I said, you might find the solution by morning. I am going to dinner, or else I shall have to listen to Aunt Catherine scolding me all evening.”
“Yes, I will think of what can be done. Tomorrow I shall speak to Miss Bennet and also to the Thomsons and other villagers. Hopefully, I will be calmer by then.”
“You are a man with a difficult temper but with a great willingness to keep it under good regulation,” the colonel mocked him again. “For me, it would be much easier. I know what I would do if I was in your place. Quickly and efficiently.”
“Please indulge me, Robert. Any suggestion is welcome.”
“Very easy—I would marry Miss Bennet right away!” The colonel gulped the rest of the brandy and filled his glass again.
Darcy frowned and threw him an admonitory look.
“I am not jesting, Darcy. If I were in your position, if I had the liberty to choose, I would propose to her tomorrow. That would be the honourable thing to do, but what a pleasant task! Just imagine having such a woman by your side for the rest of your life.”
“If you were in my position, despite your assumption that I have the liberty to choose, you would think thoroughly before deciding upon your future wife. You would consider not only your own preferences but also the responsibilities attached to the position and the duties she must be able to accomplish. And the family you would enter into. Just as you are already doing, except now you only search for connections and wealth.”
Despite Darcy’s seriousness, the colonel laughed. “True. But just for amusement, if you do not need to search for connections and wealth, why is Miss Bennet not qualified enough for you to choose her? Because that is what I understand you implied in your reply.”
Darcy felt under scrutiny and wondered if his cousin suspected something.
“Do tell, Darcy, just for amusement. Think of one lady that you find perfectly suited to be your wife. You may name anyone, even duchesses. Even royalty. Just single one out. Play with me!”
Darcy rolled his eyes in vexation, then he eventually gave in to his cousin’s insistence. He began to think, pondering on every woman of his acquaintance. After a while, the colonel began pacing.
“Why does it take you so long? Are you really so fastidious? No woman you know is good enough to be your wife?” he mocked Darcy. Then the revelation struck him eventually.
“Or can you not remember any specific lady? Is there nobody that has kept your attention. Do you have anybody in particular that comes into your mind when you speak of your future wife?”
‘There is,’ Darcy was tempted to reply, ‘only one.’
Instead, he shrugged. “No one in particular. Do you?”
“Of course! Several!”
“Then they are not quite particular, are they?” Darcy responded.
“You have changed the subject. We were speaking of Miss Bennet. What qualities does she lack? Is she not beautiful enough? Her features are not flawless, but she is charming. She is spirited, smart, outspoken,” the colonel continued.
“She is fond of reading, too. And very affectionate with her family,” Darcy added.
“There you are. More qualities. What does she lack?” the colonel insisted.
“Her family’s manners are wanting... And her youngest two sisters and her mother completely lack decorum. And her father is often careless in censuring them. Mrs. Bennet has a brother who is a lawyer and one who is in trade. He leaves near Cheapside.”
As he spoke, his own words sounded uncivil and conceited to Darcy. He had the awful sensation he was quoting Caroline Bingley.
The colonel expressed the same thoughts loudly, through peals of laughter.
“Are you serious, Darcy? Do you hear yourself? I asked about the lady’s faults and you are telling me of her family.
Did you just censure her mother’s manners?
Truly? You, who secluded yourself in your room to avoid Aunt Catherine?
Oh dear—there is no wonder you know nobody you wish to marry. You are a lost cause, my friend.”
“Very well, mock me, just let us cease this conversation.”
“As you wish; do not be upset, nobody expects you to marry Miss Bennet. It was just a joke.”
Darcy frowned. “Why would you say that? Nobody expects me to do the honourable thing? This is what you suggested?”
“Oh dear, grumpy already? What I meant is that we all know how much you dislike Miss Bennet. Just as much as she dislikes you. Nobody who knows you would imagine you two together. This is why these rumours are so ridiculous and harmful.”
Darcy gazed at his cousin, dumbfounded. “Why would you assume I dislike Miss Bennet? And why would you suggest she dislikes me?”
“Ah, you mock me back. I deserve that. Miss Bennet told me the first day I met her that you are not good friends. She said you claimed that your good opinion once lost is lost forever. She elegantly scolded your manners while you stayed in Hertfordshire. And she seemed to have a hidden reason or a deeper grudge if I know anything about women. And I know quite a lot.”
Darcy’s disbelief turned into distress. “Miss Bennet told you I dislike her? And that she dislikes me?”
“Well not in so many words, but there is little doubt remaining for anyone who has seen you together for several minutes. The notion of you two being involved in a relationship is laughable.”
Darcy was barely listening to his cousin. His astonishment was now great. All his assumptions were drawn into question by his cousin’s statement. Surely Robert was wrong this time. He could not be right. Hold a grudge against him? Why would she?
“Darcy?”
“Yes? Forgive me, I believe I am a little tired. And the two glasses of brandy did not help. Shall I see you in the morning?”
“Certainly. Good night.”
“Good night, cousin,” Darcy replied, although he was certain that the night would be anything but good. Distressing. Tormenting. Restless. Probably the worst night in a row of too many terrible nights he had experienced in the last six months since he had met Elizabeth Bennet.