Chapter 11 #2
Recalling Caroline’s latest nonsensical blathering during supper, Charles held his head in his hands. “Why hasn’t it rained? How can we put an end to this fiasco without the rain?”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t wait for the next storm, Charles,” Darcy said. “Why don’t we go out tonight? We’ll bring lanterns and walk down to the lane.”
“What’s this about the rain?” Henry inquired. “Do you think the reversal can only happen if it’s raining?”
“Well, it stands to reason that if the switch happened during a rain storm, then we need the same for the reverse,” Charles explained. “I am convinced that the weather gods had been angry that night, and that the next storm will bring an end to this fiasco.”
“Shall I join you? After all, I was there the first time.”
Struck with alarm, Charles wondered why he and Darcy had neglected to take Henry’s presence into consideration.
“So were Lockhart and the horses, for that matter,” Henry continued. “Do you need to recreate the same conditions to reverse the spell, like getting a wheel stuck in the mud?”
Charles slumped back into his chair at this added complication. “Lord, I don’t know. I would hate to rouse Lockhart from his bed at that hour. How would I explain what we were doing?”
Darcy grumbled irritably. “How can we recreate all the same conditions when we don’t know the exact location?”
Henry merely shrugged. “Dashed if I know.”
“Which brings us back to where we started, with no ideas and no solutions,” Darcy said in exasperation. “It seems unfathomable, but I refuse to give up hope. Otherwise, how am I to protect my sister?”
“But surely, if something triggered the event, then there must be some way to undo it,” Charles said, attempting to remain positive. “We can’t stay this way indefinitely.”
“I should hope not,” Darcy said.
Henry shook his head. “No, no, don’t despair. We’ll think of something.”
Although Charles appreciated his brother’s support, he took no encouragement from his pronouncement.
Three days had passed and no one had thought of anything even remotely useful.
They had managed to keep the truth of the matter from his sisters and Miss Elizabeth, but how much longer could they continue as they were?
Maintaining the ruse had been difficult enough, but if he were to make a mistake, he and Darcy would be exposed as frauds.
How would he hold his head up in society again?
When Charles entered the drawing room, every trouble and worry vanished from his mind.
Jane Bennet had finally emerged from the sick room.
She rose to curtsy, wearing a lace cap over her hair and a shawl around her shoulders.
Despite her pale countenance, he was delighted that she was well enough to come downstairs.
He rushed to her side and directed her to a chair near the fireplace. “I’m relieved that you’re finally able to join us, Miss Bennet,” he said, then added more firewood to the hearth. “Are you warm enough? Shall I bring you a throw for your lap?”
Jane’s eyes grew wide with wonder. “Thank you, Mr Darcy. I’m perfectly warm.”
Only then did Charles realise his perilous mistake. Indeed, she must wonder why Darcy was fussing over her.
His heart sank, but he ought to have expected Jane’s hesitance. Darcy had never paid her the smallest attention, so she would naturally be on her guard.
Masking his disappointment, he gestured to Darcy. “Mr Bingley, would you care to sit by the fire and catch up with Miss Bennet?”
“I would,” Darcy said and claimed the chair beside her that Charles had set for himself.
He retreated to the other side of the room where he had a full view of the hearth.
Although pained by the loss of Jane’s company, especially after waiting three days to see her, he clenched his jaw, took up a deck of cards, and absently shuffled.
Hopefully, Darcy would relay their conversation later.
However, seeing her conversing so comfortably with Darcy cast him into misery, and he forced himself to look away.
I had a good life before this, he mused.
Living in town, with all the entertainment a man could desire, and plenty of women vying for my attention.
No responsibilities, with scores of acquaintances and connections.
Yet, I wanted more. I wanted the status of a gentleman.
Now I have it, but it’s another man’s life, not mine.
***
Darcy’s mind raced for a suitable topic to discuss with Jane Bennet. He knew Charles was counting on him to entertain his favourite lady, or at least converse with her, but he knew almost nothing about her. “I hope you’ve been comfortable during your recuperation.”
“Oh yes, perfectly, Mr Bingley. You and your sisters have been so kind to endure my prolonged presence in your home.”
“Not in the least. Your return to good health is our only concern. Have the maids provided everything you require?”
“Indeed, they have plied me with every possible remedy,” she said with a shy smile. “I’ve been given a constant supply of tea, bone broth, and porridge. Everything that my own mama would have done for me.”
“Our mothers always seem to have the perfect remedy for whatever ails us, do they not?”
Her smile vanished. “Yes, but you must miss your mama terribly.”
A shadow of gloom descended over Darcy at the memory of his mother’s passing. “She was taken from us far too soon.”
“I’m certain that she would be proud of the man you’ve become, Mr Bingley.”
Recalling that the lady assumed she was speaking with another man, Darcy shook himself out of the dismals.
“I certainly hope so, Miss Bennet.” He began to understand the appeal she had on Charles.
Contrary to his earlier suspicions, she was warm and sympathetic, not in the least encroaching, like some other ladies of his acquaintance.
“I’m sorry my mother didn’t take Ginger home with her yesterday. We ought not to have left her to your care and feeding all this time.”
“You mustn’t give it another thought.”
“By the bye, Charles,” Caroline said, interrupting his conversation. “If you wish to hold a ball, you might consult the wishes of the present party. I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.”
“I might consider it,” Darcy said, knowing she hated the idea. “Perhaps when Miss Bennet is fully recovered.” In any case, he certainly couldn’t host an event in his present condition.
“You must forgive Lydia for harassing you about a ball,” Miss Bennet said. “She thinks of little else but ballgowns and dancing.”