On Foot
She curtsied. “Alas, I came to see my sister, who is ill.”
“She is?” he asked confusedly. “I had no idea. Had I known, I would have sent Bingley’s carriage for you.”
“I appreciate the sentiment. She does not seem to be at death’s doorstep, but I want to know how she is and if I can do anything for her present relief.”
Darcy was stunned by the fact that the mistress of the house entirely failed to mention Miss Bennet’s attendance the previous evening, let alone her illness.
Elizabeth looked around and spoke softly. “My mother sent her on horseback.”
He frowned. “May I presume she did not wrap her up in your father’s greatcoat?”
“You may.”
“Perhaps your mother hoped she would have to spend the night?”
She sighed resignedly and nodded.
Darcy frowned hard enough to crack stones but then brightened.
“Well then, let us get you to your sister.” He started to offer his arm, then paused and looked her over, “But first, I need to return a favour.”
Without elaborating, he took her hand and dragged her around the side of the manor, with her vacillating between suspicion and laughter the whole time. The manoeuvre was slightly untoward, but no worse than things they had already done.
He opened a side door and pulled her in, then came up short when he saw a servant enter the small room from another door.
Elizabeth was slightly startled to hear the man laugh gaily and speak emphatically. “Mrs Redgrave! What luck! I did not know you worked here.”
“Mr Darcy, Miss Lizzy, good morning. I do not usually, but my sister is ill, so I am taking her place for a few days.”
Darcy thought the mistress would have a fit over such a thing, in the unlikely event she ever knew.
“Is Miss Flora with you?”
“No, my husband has reluctantly accepted the onerous chore of her supervision.”
“Pity,” Elizabeth said.
Mrs Redgrave looked over at the pair and shook her finger at them. “Are you two up to some new tricks?”
“Not tricks, per se. Miss Elizabeth is here to visit her sister, and to do that she really should greet the family, and—”
“—and say no more. I can see you have a mud problem.”
“Exactly right as always,” Darcy replied with a grin, which set Elizabeth to laughing gaily.
“I think we need a reverse-Simon.”
When Darcy looked confused, she clarified, “The boy who put mud on your dancing pumps.”
“Ah!” he replied with a big grin.
“Go back out and return to the front of the house,” Mrs Redgrave said. “I shall deliver your lady to the breakfast parlour in perfect array in a half-hour.”
Both women slightly smiled when the man did not contest calling her ‘your lady’ but neither wanted to read any more into it than there was.
It might have been some sort of acknowledgement that they were at least flirting, but it could just as easily have been absence of mind, or worse yet, the man gearing up his courage to endure the lady of the house.
As Darcy headed for the door, Mrs Redgrave said, “If you like, I can bring Flora to visit tomorrow.”
“I should like that very much!” he said, before bowing and leaving to follow her instructions.
Just as he exited, he turned back and said, “In fact, I shall do you one better,” but then he turned and ran out before either could make any sense of it.
~
Half an hour later, Elizabeth and Mrs Redgrave entered the corridor leading to the front door and they heard the noise of horses entering the drive.
They both looked curiously out the window and saw a nondescript carriage pull up to the front.
They stared in confusion as it sat there for about a minute, then just took off.
“What do you think that was?” Elizabeth asked.
“That is an old carriage that belongs to the estate. I saw it near the stables one day.”
“But why just stop and then leave?”
“I suspect your Mr Darcy wanted it to seem as if you arrived by carriage.”
“Clever!” she said, not bothering to declaim the term ‘your Mr Darcy.’ She thought it was remotely possible he could eventually be such, but even if he were just her friend, the appellation would do no harm.
They entered the breakfast parlour, and Mr Darcy glanced up, looking as innocent as a young boy about to blame the dog for some broken household item. Everyone else at the table looked startled.
“Pardon me for interrupting your breakfast, but I have come to look in on my sister.”
She was vastly amused when Mr Bingley looked entirely startled, Mr Hurst looked indifferent to anything not on his plate, and the superior sisters tried to look innocent with far less success than either Mr Darcy or that wayward puppy.
“I was not aware she was here,” Mr Bingley said, looking at his sister suspiciously.
Elizabeth wondered if Miss Bingley was eaten up with pride or just stupid.
Did she really think she could keep Jane’s presence secret long enough to send her back home?
She supposed if Jane were fine, she might have pulled it off, but given that she tried it, Elizabeth assumed the lady routinely manipulated her brother, and she would likely succeed.
“She became ill last night, so naturally I gave her shelter, Charles,” she said with that oily smoothness Elizabeth assumed they taught in seminary.
“And you thought I had no need to know?” he squeaked angrily.
“Why would you? She has a slight cold and will return soon. I do not ask you about your hunting, so feel no need to inform you of every little detail of our schedules.”
Elizabeth thought that was skating close to the edge, but if Miss Bingley was accustomed to manipulating her brother, and perfectly willing to assume he was oblivious, it said something about one or the other.
She supposed she could keep it in mind just in case she had to speak to Jane about guarding her heart in a fortnight.
That said, she was far more anxious to see Jane than to listen to them squabble.
“Pray, might I tend to her?” she said in some exasperation, and was either vexed or amused when Mr Darcy smirked (she would decide which later).
“Allow me to escort you,” he volunteered.
“We have servants for that,” Miss Bingley said in a snide tone of voice calculated to show Elizabeth that she was not worthy of the attention of anyone above a scullery maid. Elizabeth was tremendously amused by her pique.
Darcy said, “My pardon, Miss Bingley. Most of my acquaintances would not delegate such a task to a servant, but I suppose you need not maintain your home as they do.”
It seemed to Darcy like a race between Miss Bingley falling over calling for her salts and Elizabeth bursting out laughing. He felt just a bit guilty about twisting the knife, but not especially. Miss Bingley had been getting on his nerves.
“But of course, pray escort her,” Miss Bingley said with a surprisingly demure tone for someone clenching their teeth. “Take Ralston with you.”
“Capital suggestion. Mrs Redgrave, if you would be so kind.”
They exited gallantly and got out of the mistress’ hearing before Elizabeth laughed, “Oh, you are a wicked-wicked man.”
“I shall neither confirm nor deny at this time.”
“What say you, Mrs Redgrave?”
“I shall go along with Mr Darcy’s dithering, if you do not mind.”
Elizabeth returned to Darcy. “Perhaps I might aid your disclosure by mentioning that evil is one of your better traits.”
He chuckled heartily. “In that case, I shall plead guilty, my lady.”
Mrs Redgrave walked quickly ahead chuckling, and she could not have been more obvious if she held her hands over her ears.
“That sounds just the least bit flirtatious, sir.”
“Have you any objections?” he asked, seriously.
“Of course not. We are friends, are we not?”
“That we are, Miss Lizzy! That we are. Be certain to ask if I can be of any aid to you or your sister.”
“I will.”
With a smile and informal curtsy, she joined Mrs Redgrave in entering Jane’s room to see just how badly her mother had harmed her elder sister’s health, thinking she would worry about how much she harmed her prospects later.