Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
“Mr Bingley, madam.”
The ladies rose from their seats as their neighbour was shown in, bearing a bouquet of hothouse flowers.
Jane was in her dressing gown, her injury still too tender to bear the inconvenience of changing into a dress, but in their own drawing room, and in the company of her stepmother and sisters, it was not inappropriate for her to receive a guest in her condition.
“Good morning, Mr Bingley,” Charlotte greeted their guest. “You find Mr Bennet away from home today, but it is very kind of you to call.”
“I could not wait any longer to call upon Miss Bennet to hear of her welfare.” Mr Bingley turned to Jane and presented his offering.
“Miss Bennet, I hope that you do not find yourself any worse in health than you were yesterday afternoon. Was the injury to your wrist the worst of it? I pray that you do not find yourself further injured by your experience.”
“Thank you, Mr Bingley.” Jane’s cheeks turned pink as her stepmother took the flowers for her and had a maid bring them upstairs to be placed by her bed.
“My wrist is sore. The doctor says that it is only twisted, not broken or sprained, and that it should not take very long to heal. Perhaps a fortnight. I am very fortunate not to have suffered any other injury. You were so very kind yesterday. I do thank you sincerely for your considerate assistance. It was a balm to my spirits to see that even in the midst of such an event, there are still good and decent gentlemen in the world.”
“We thought that you may not be equal to many visitors after your ordeal, so my sisters have remained at home today.” Mr Bingley took the chair next to her, his eyes shining with admiration as he took in Jane’s angelic pulchritude.
“They will accompany me to pay a call when you are ready to receive them.”
“Oh, how thoughtful.” Jane blushed again.
“Your introduction to poor Jane was not ideal, Mr Bingley,” Elizabeth opened polite conversation. “Please, tell us about yourself.”
Mr Bingley spoke for a few minutes about his childhood home in Scarborough, his parents, his sisters, his brother-in-law, and his education.
“I met Darcy at Cambridge. He is the best of friends,” Mr Bingley informed them.
“I have never met a better man. He has a most amiable family, though I suppose you have met his father and his cousin, Lady Priscilla. Miss Darcy was with you yesterday, of course. I plan to lease an estate soon, to better prepare myself for purchasing one of my own, which was my father’s intention for me.
But Darcy was to spend the summer here with his family, so I decided to come and enjoy the delights of the seaside, for my friend works so hard managing Pemberley and his family’s other holdings that I do not see him as much as I should like.
How do you like Ramsgate, Miss Bennet? Do you have a particular activity that you enjoy? ”
He listened, enraptured, as Jane spoke of the warm salt-water baths and the sea-bathing machines that she attended often with her stepmother, as well as walking with her sisters on the cliffs, and strolling the promenade.
“I chaperone my younger sisters to see the parades and embarkations as well. It is their preference more than mine, though it is still an exciting spectacle. There are some great houses not far away. I am told they have parks and gardens that may be toured, and one ought to see them before leaving Ramsgate. I hope to visit them with my family very soon. Mostly, I enjoy assisting my stepmother. We are here to help her build her strength after the birth of my infant brother. She is so much stronger already than when we came.”
“I am, and I have been telling Mr Bennet that I believe that I am equal to attending some evening events, just as soon as Jane’s arm is healed enough to dance again,” Charlotte said from where she sat with her embroidery by the window.
“Mr Darcy has also taken a box at the theatre, and has promised to invite us, so we should have some more amusement soon.”
“A night at the theatre is just the thing to lift Miss Bennet’s spirits after her experience!” Mr Bingley exclaimed. “But you must not strain yourself too soon, Miss Bennet. It is better to wait and be certain that you are ready rather than to do too much too quickly, and set yourself back.”
“The physician said it is a very mild injury, more of a twisted and strained wrist than a sprained one. Jane is strong. She will be well again in a trice,” Elizabeth said confidently.
“I pray that you are right, Miss Elizabeth. I would not see Miss Bennet harm herself for all the world,” Mr Bingley insisted as he rose. “Well, I must be off. My sister requires that we call upon some families from town without delay.”
“Thank you for calling, Mr Bingley.” Charlotte smiled while Elizabeth rang for the maid. “We look forward to seeing you again and meeting your other sister.”
Whether Jane was up to it or not, the afternoon brought such an abundance of visitors that Mr Bennet declared when he arrived home that their little Ramsgate cottage must certainly be mistaken for an inn.
“We are not at home for the rest of the afternoon, Susie,” Mr Bennet instructed the maid after the last of the matrons and their daughters, who called to hear the tale of the phaeton incident first hand and see Jane’s condition for themselves, had been shown out.
“But Mr and Miss Darcy are meant to call, Papa.” Elizabeth reminded him.
“Except for the Darcys,” Mr Bennet amended. “We are not at home unless it is the Darcys.”
As if they had been summoned, a carriage arrived, then another.
Darcy handed down his sister and Priscilla as Kitty watched from the window and relayed all that she saw to the others in the room.
His father stepped down from the second carriage with Mr Wickham, and the Darcys’ entrance was followed by footmen carrying boxes from the confectioner’s, baskets of fruit, and bouquets for the ladies.
“I brought these for you,” Darcy handed a stunning bouquet of red roses to a blushing Elizabeth. “And we thought, considering the events of yesterday, that Mrs Bennet, Miss Bennet, and Miss Mary would appreciate a small gesture as well.”
Georgiana and Priscilla handed smaller, less extravagant bouquets to the other ladies in question, as Lydia pouted not to have received one of her own.
“You were not harmed at all, Lydia, nor were we even near when it happened,” Kitty admonished her younger sister.
“Kitty is correct, Lydia,” Mr Bennet observed as he shook Darcy’s hand and that of his father’s in greeting. “Do not be a petulant child.”
“We brought more sweets from the confectioner’s. And fruit from the orchards, to aid in Miss Bennet’s recovery, and to lift all of your spirits.” Miss Darcy’s cheeks turned pink as they always did when she was speaking to a group of people.
“You are all so excessively kind. I am mortified to receive so much attention for such a small injury.” Jane smiled with her customary serenity from her seat near an open window.
“You make a poor invalid, Jane.” Priscilla teased. “One might expect a lady to take to her bed and present a list of demands after such an experience.”
Jane shook her head in amusement. “I fear I have no talent for it.”
Mr Bennet peered into the boxes. “Jane is obviously much beloved by our friends.”
Charlotte, who was sitting with her son in a maternal fashion, instructed the maids to take the boxes to the kitchen and have the offerings arranged on trays.
Tea was soon served, and everyone marvelled at the bounty of almond cakes, prawlongs, cream cakes, marzipan, and biscuits, not to mention pears, cherries, raspberries, and apricots from the local orchards.
Charlotte quickly instructed Kitty and Lydia to serve and pour, not wishing to disturb Mary or for Elizabeth to be distracted from Darcy.
Mr Bennet fell into a comfortable, often visited debate with Darcy’s father regarding the classics and his view of the deplorable state of contemporary literature.
Mary and Jane found a willing listener in Priscilla concerning the moral deficiencies of reckless young men.
Georgiana sat by Charlotte and Lucas, whom she quite doted upon, and admired the chubby infant as he cooed and gurgled happily.
Soon, everyone was served far more than was good for them, and easy conversation flowed through the room. Only one source of discomfort intruded upon Mr and Mrs Bennet, which was noticed and shared by Darcy.
Mr Wickham had, as usual, established himself in conversation with Kitty and Lydia. No one could hear what he said as he spoke in low tones with a wolfish smile, but everyone could hear the scandalised giggles and squeals of the two youngest ladies in the corner.
Elizabeth noticed that it was not only Darcy who looked displeased and distracted from his conversation with her. Miss Darcy was also distracted by the antics of Mr Wickham and her friends, and her face was red with what seemed to be anger.
Mr Bennet observed the scene with unfolding unease, and at a sharp look from his wife, found himself forced into a paternal activity entirely foreign to his custom.
“Lydia,” he said suddenly. “Did you not intend to show me the sketches you began yesterday?”
Lydia blinked, not having expected the intrusion. “Not particularly, Papa.”
“Certainly you did,” her father insisted. “You must be forgetful.”
“I do not believe Lydia has had any such intention at all,” Kitty laughed in derision.
Mr Wickham smiled at Mr Bennet easily, in the manner of a man who knows he will always be protected by a wealthy patron. “You do your daughter an injustice, sir. She could not be as forgetful as you claim.”
“Lydia, fetch your sketchbook. I would very much like to see it.” Mr Bennet was not to be deterred.
“Kitty, please take your brother back to the nursery,” Charlotte requested of her step-daughter.
“But I–”
“Now, Kitty,” Mr Bennet barked sharply, to the surprise of his friend and his daughter.