Chapter 5
Charles was mortified by his sisters’ conduct at breakfast. Jane Bennet, the sweetest angel in the world, had come at their behest, and all they could do was complain.
He had become accustomed to their constant sniping over the years and preferred to tune them out, but seeing them expose themselves in front of Darcy was beyond all bearing.
Of course, neither sister had ever cared one whit for his opinion. Even Henry had given up trying to keep them under control. Obviously, Papa had spoiled them both, indulging them and catering to their every whim. It was no wonder they lacked discipline.
Not that he could entirely blame Papa. Since their father had died, Charles had relied on Louisa to guide Caroline in the proper direction. But with two such strong willed sisters, what was he to do?
A footman entered to announce a caller – Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Although surprised, Charles rose to receive her, as was his usual custom, but then he recalled that he wasn’t the master of the house, at least, not in his present state. He hoped Darcy would greet her, but he remained silent, staring agape at her, as though transfixed by her appearance.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth. You must have come to see Miss Bennet,” Charles said, covering for Darcy.
She offered a pained smile. “Forgive me for calling at this hour, but when I received my sister’s note, I came at once.”
“Did you walk all this way, Miss Eliza?” Caroline inquired.
Colour rushed to her face, and she averted her gaze to the floor, nodding grimly.
His sister’s high-handed demeanour infuriated Charles. A proper mistress of the house would have welcomed her guest to her home. “Perhaps Mr Bingley should call for the housekeeper to escort Miss Elizabeth upstairs to her sister,” he said, hoping Darcy would take the hint.
Finally master of himself, Darcy gestured to Caroline and Louisa. “My sisters will be happy to bring you to Miss Bennet’s chamber, Miss Elizabeth.”
Caroline sneered at Darcy, further enraging Charles.
Henry merely chuckled. “Go on then, Louisa, and you, too, Caroline, and see to our friend,” he said, motioning towards the door.
Miss Elizabeth curtsied and followed the ladies out of the room.
Henry rubbed his hands together. “I don’t know when I’ve had more fun,” he said with a broad grin.
“Try to contain your glee, Henry,” Charles said, now annoyed with the lot of them.
Henry muffled a laugh with his serviette.
“Your sisters are perfectly capable of being civil,” Darcy said after resuming his seat, “but it seems they choose to disregard civility whenever it suits them.”
Charles gave no answer. Since he was partly responsible for his sisters’ deplorable manners, he had no reasonable dispute to his friend’s observation. He ought to have corrected their behaviour long ago, but had left them to their own devices.
However, Darcy was hardly a model of common curtesy.
He also had a bad habit of disregarding propriety whenever it suited him, so he shouldn’t complain about Caroline’s and Louisa’s poor conduct.
He had callously refused introductions at last month’s assembly, declined to dance with ladies needing partners, and judged the local residents by their mode of dress.
Yet, despite his previous abhorrence of the neighbours, he suspected that Darcy had reversed his former opinion of Miss Elizabeth.
***
Still unsettled by Miss Elizabeth’s unexpected arrival, Darcy pretended to read the newspaper. Bingley’s sisters had profoundly annoyed him, but when Elizabeth had entered the parlour, he’d been struck speechless. Never in his life had he been so thoroughly captivated by a woman.
He’d scarcely been able to take his eyes away from her. Despite her melancholy air, she’d never appeared lovelier with her wind-tousled hair and face glowing with vibrance. She had walked three miles to visit her sick sister. How extraordinary.
Upon his first notice, he hadn’t been remotely impressed with her, but had since come to appreciate her lithe figure, lively personality and expressive eyes.
Unlike the ladies of the ton, she didn’t put herself forward, nor did she smile quite so relentlessly as her elder sister.
There was something compelling about her that he couldn’t quite define, and he longed to know more about her.
A footman entered. “Mr Jones, the apothecary, has called, and I’ve escorted him to Miss Bennet’s chamber, sir.”
“Thank you, John,” he said, as the supposed master of the house.
“Phillip,” Charles said, glancing briefly at the footman.
“I beg your pardon, Phillip. Thank you,” he said, cursing himself. If he were to be a proper master of Netherfield, he ought to pay more attention to the servants’ names.
“I’m worried,” Charles said. “If they sent for the apothecary, Miss Bennet must be quite ill indeed. I want a full report before he leaves.”
“Since he’ll be sending you his invoice,” Hurst said, “I’m certain he’ll be happy to speak with you…” He hesitated, then pointed to Darcy. “Or you.” He didn’t bother to disguise his amusement.
Both Darcy and Charles scowled irritably at Hurst, who clapped a hand over his mouth and remained silent.
While they waited, Charles paced, obviously undone by this latest development.
As expected, the apothecary presented himself to the sitting parlour and gave his report. “Miss Bennet has contracted a violent cold with a fever and headache. Her throat is inflamed, and she is heavily congested.”
Darcy watched his doppelganger turn pale at this news.
“I’ll send my shop boy with a draught and the proper dosage instructions. She’ll need plenty of fluids and perhaps some porridge, if she can manage it,” Mr Jones said, rising to take his leave.
“Yes, of course. I’ll see to it,” Darcy said.
“I’ll call again in the morning to check on her.”
“Thank you for your swift response, Mr Jones,” Charles said, shaking the man’s hand.
Darcy called for a footman to see the apothecary out.
“How dreadful,” Charles said, once they were alone. “She must be terribly uncomfortable.”
Henry Hurst pressed his lips together to stifle a comment, but his eyes gleamed with mirth.
Charles scowled at his brother-in-law. “If you make one more idiotic joke, Henry, I swear I won’t be held responsible for what I might do.”
Frowning, Hurst threw his hands up. “It’s not my fault you got yourselves into a scrape,” he said, now indignant. “I’ll be in the billiard room if anyone is looking for me,” he said, then stalked away.
“Relax, my friend,” Darcy said. “Your sisters and Miss Elizabeth will see to her care. Miss Bennet will soon have a draught, and she’ll be more comfortable.”
“To have her in my house without being able to see her and comfort her is unbearable.”
Although Darcy had never seen his jovial friend so downcast, he couldn’t help sympathising with him.
He had often seen Charles in the throes of love.
Since Miss Bennet was his new favourite, he would naturally want to pay every attention to her care.
He rang for a servant and advised the answering footman to summon the housekeeper, just as he would have done in similar circumstances at home.
When Mrs Nicholls arrived, she advised them that she had already provided Miss Bennet with her own bone broth elixir, and the cook had a pot of porridge simmering in the kitchen.
Even with these assurances, Charles still appeared unsettled as he paced over the carpet.
Darcy wondered if their time would be better spent discussing their plans to reverse their current dilemma; however, at the moment, Charles was in no fit state to think clearly. What he needed was an amusing activity to distract him from his troubles.
“Should we challenge Hurst to billiards?” Darcy inquired.
Charles finally relaxed his shoulders. “Maybe we can win back some of our money.”
That’s precisely what Darcy was thinking.