Chapter 8 #2
“You are right, Lizzy. Oh dear, I have been so selfish and careless, thinking only of my wishes… Poor Miss Darcy.”
“My dear, nobody is less selfish and careless than you. Come, let us hurry. It just crossed my mind that Mr Collins might return and smother Miss Darcy with his attention. The poor girl should at least be fed by then!”
“Lizzy, dearest! You are just incorrigible!”
∞∞∞
By the time they returned, their mother was engaged in conversation with Mrs Annesley and Mr Bingley. Mr Bennet only listened and nodded, and Miss Darcy was still silent, glancing about with discomfort, while the youngest Bennet sisters scrutinised her with curiosity.
Elizabeth placed the tray on the table, and Jane prepared the tea. Mr Bingley hurried to help her.
“Is there any news from Dr Bates yet?” Elizabeth enquired.
“No. Hopefully he will return soon. I look forward to speaking to my brother,” Miss Darcy said.
“You should eat a little and have some tea while we wait,” Elizabeth insisted. “I am sure your brother would wish you to.”
The girl took the proffered cup and sipped from it.
“You should take a little meat and bread too, Miss Darcy,” Mrs Bennet said. “You are very pretty but too thin.”
“Mama!” Elizabeth interrupted her.
“What? Am I not right, Mrs Annesley?”
The lady offered a polite smile. “Who could contradict a mother of five beautiful daughters? I agree Miss Darcy should eat — she has barely eaten anything at all since yesterday.”
“Well then, please do me this favour, Miss Darcy. My daughter Lydia must be close to you in age, and she is always hungry.”
Miss Darcy forced an awkward smile and took a plate, while Lydia and Kitty whispered to each other.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Darcy addressed her, “Mr Bingley told us how you found my brother, how Mrs Bennet stayed with him in the rain, and how you ran for help. You saved his life, and we shall be forever grateful to you all. And now, the way you are all looking after him and offering him the best care — such kindness is overwhelming. How can we ever repay you?”
The girl’s eyes were heavy with tears, and she seemed unable to control her emotions.
“Miss Darcy, you have been here for only a short while and have already thanked us more than is necessary,” Elizabeth said with a smile she hoped would comfort the girl. “We have done nothing more than what any decent person would do. The only payment we need is to see Mr Darcy fully recovered.”
“We have done all we could,” Mrs Bennet interjected. “Thank God I have not caught a cold — but I do not regret remaining with Mr Darcy. He is not the most talkative or amiable gentleman, but he is Mr Bingley’s friend, and Mr Bingley is dear to our family.”
“Thank you for saying so, Mrs Bennet,” Mr Bingley said, obviously pleased, glancing at Jane.
“Mr Bingley is truly a good friend to us,” Miss Darcy interjected. “For the last three years, he has been like another brother to me. And my own brother is kind and generous, even if he does not always say much. Everybody who knows him praises his character.”
The censure behind the girl’s reply was clear, despite the sweet, gentle voice.
Miss Darcy would not allow any disparaging words about her brother, not even from the person who had saved his life.
Such loyalty caused Elizabeth to smile again, though she assumed the girl’s affection must bias her judgment.
“Miss Darcy, your statement honours me just as much as having Darcy’s friendship,” Mr Bingley said, and Elizabeth saw Jane looking disconcerted.
“Darcy is truly the best man I know. The best master, the best landlord, always helping anyone who requests his assistance. He has guided me like a brother and father.”
“I have met Mr Darcy only once, and we spoke for merely an hour, so I cannot boast of a close acquaintance,” Mr Bennet said. “However, I found his company to be exceedingly pleasant, despite the fact I rarely enjoy meeting new people. And one cannot judge a gentleman by how much he speaks.”
“I agree, sir,” Miss Darcy replied, and a little smile finally appeared on her face. “Again, I thank you so much, Mrs Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and the entire family.”
“Let this be the last thanks we hear from you, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said. She kept her smile, but the girl looked uneasy at even a gentle jest.
“I apologise. I know I am being silly…”
“Oh no, not at all, Miss Darcy! I must warn you that I have a tendency to tease, which not everybody approves of,” Elizabeth said.
“Elizabeth inherited the trait from me,” Mr Bennet said. “Even Mr Darcy mentioned the resemblance when we spoke.”
“Mr Darcy is certainly one of those who disapproves of my teasing,” Elizabeth said with a little laugh.
“That is not entirely true, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr Bingley declared. “I have heard Darcy praise your wit many times. I do not remember another woman ever arguing with him so often. In truth, I am not always sure when you are arguing and when you are teasing.”
The gentleman looked so sincere that Elizabeth’s smile broadened.
“Mr Darcy is usually my severest critic, and I cannot blame him for that.”
“Mr Darcy seems to enjoy teasing, from what he told me,” Mr Bennet uttered. “And I see no reason for him to deceive me.”
“My brother always speaks the truth. Disguise of any sort is his abhorrence,” Miss Darcy said emphatically. “I am sure he does not disapprove of you, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Well, he refused to dance with Lizzy at the assembly… But perhaps I should not have mentioned that,” Mrs Bennet said, and Miss Darcy turned pale.
“Perhaps you should not have, madam,” Mr Bennet interjected. “Besides, a man should be at liberty to dance or not, and with whom he pleases, without anyone holding a grudge against him.”
“Darcy rarely dances, even in the most illustrious places,” Mr Bingley confirmed. “It is one of the many differences between us.”
Elizabeth smiled again. She knew that to be true; she had heard Mr Darcy telling Sir William that ‘every savage can dance’.
Strangely, only moments later, Mr Darcy had asked her to dance.
Of course, she had refused, but what could have been his meaning?
Did he intend to mock her? Surely he would not wish to expose himself to ridicule by acting like a savage — according to his own description.
Mr Darcy might be an excellent man, as his sister and friend had stated, but he was certainly one who was difficult to understand.