Chapter Fourteen #2
Miss Darcy’s brave and noble guardian had begun to pace in small, furious circles.
“The nerve of him coming here! I wish I had seen the bastard before he saw me, I would have dragged him from the ballroom and beaten him in the street with my one good arm! I will kill him for this, and for all Forster’s indolent assurances I will give him a lashing, too! ”
Caroline observed his protective fury with admiration, but she could see that it only frightened Miss Darcy.
She stroked the girl’s hair as Louisa had once done for her, before their sisterhood had soured.
“And we are proud of you, dearest, for coming forward, and not agreeing to my harridan sister’s awful scheme.
Whatever your actions may have been, you have shown every good judgement in bringing this problem to your cousin.
When he is quite finished with his fit, we will make a plan together. ”
This seemed to recall the colonel to his senses, for he stilled and corrected his posture. “Well said, Miss Bingley. But we must get you both inside and out of this rain, or there may be some real sickness in the house.”
He winked at Caroline, brazenly drinking in the sight of her in a damp ivory day dress, her wet hair beginning to fall around her face.
Then he doffed his overcoat, wincing as he fumbled to remove the sleeve from his injured arm.
He placed it over his cousin’s shoulders, and then repeated the process with his fine blue linen coat.
He cried out a little, but gently set the coat over Caroline’s shoulders, his eyes twinkling with mirth despite his discomfort.
When she had overcome her shock, Caroline took her turn at looking him over, clad only in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves. She bit her lip and smirked at him before they all hastened for the manor.
The colonel sent his cousin up to take a hot bath, and though Caroline knew she ought to do the same, she instead had the delight of watching Colonel Fitzwilliam storm into the drawing room, where Louisa was observing a game of chess between Charles and Mr. Darcy while Mr. Hurst slumbered upright on the sofa.
“Bingley, I would have a word with your sister immediately,” the colonel thundered. Caroline lingered in the doorway—he had not told her she could not observe, and she longed to see her sister finally punished.
Mr. Hurst jolted awake with a grunt, and the colonel rounded on him. “Yes, you too, sir. Either you are in league with your wife, or you are ignorant of her wickedness.”
Charles paled. “Louisa, what have you done?”
A tremendous amount of chaos ensued as Colonel Fitzwilliam told them everything Miss Darcy had related.
Mr. Darcy was predictably murderous, and the colonel stoked his ire with more of his own imposing posturing.
Charles was all apologies for his friends, but said very little to Louisa as she shrieked and wailed in the face of the colonel’s wrath.
Amidst all this, Mr. Hurst berated them all in drunken confusion.
But it was Colonel Fitzwilliam who led the charge, demanding that Louisa leave Netherfield at once, and illustrating the dire social consequences that might befall her if she ever spoke a word of Miss Darcy’s secret.
When he looked up and met Caroline’s eye across the battlefield of the drawing room, she knew that it was not only for his cousin that he scolded Louisa so relentlessly.
Caroline smiled and drew his coat tighter about herself; she could see in his eyes that it was also for her.
Elizabeth was wary at finding Mr. Wickham at her aunt’s card party, but had not even managed to warn her sisters not to speak with him when a few more officers arrived, spoke tensely with the blackguard, and departed the gathering with him in their custody.
It was managed discreetly, though nothing got past her gossip-loving aunt.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she watched him roughly escorted from the premises.
It was worth it, then, that Jane should miss a chance to see Mr. Bingley, for if the gentlemen from Netherfield were dining with Colonel Forster, they must be the reason Mr. Wickham had been apprehended.
He deserved whatever punishment they gave him.
Her sisters were less pleased by the deprivation of his charming company; between their antics and Mr. Collins’ determination to pay them all his shambling addresses, Elizabeth took little pleasure in the evening.
Though she had defended her relations to Mr. Darcy after his insult, she might have said far worse of them at the card party.
She made a mental note to ask Mr. Darcy exactly how far away Pemberley was, for it may be some inducement to reconsider his proposal.
Jane stayed the night at Netherfield, and sent word in the morning that she was feeling poorly, and would remain where she was until she felt recovered.
Elizabeth wished to go to her sister at once, but Mr. Collins, who had spent the morning meal perusing a letter sent to him express, demanded a private audience with her.
Mrs. Bennet hesitated, muttering something about the colonel, but decided that their guest must say his piece, and Mr. Bennet laughingly agreed that it was best to let him have done with it.
Kitty and Lydia only giggled as they fled the room, and Mary smiled sympathetically at Elizabeth’s pleas to stay with her, but was pulled from the room by their mother.
“Fairest Cousin Elizabeth,” Mr. Collins said, plucking a flower from a vase on the table and offering it to her.
Elizabeth sat unmoving in her chair. “Sir, I must go to my sister at once. She is ill, and I wish to care for her.”