CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

 

 

There was quite an uproar at Longbourn when they arrived. Elizabeth had been missed. Perhaps there was some additional worry, given the news about the duel, about her own fate. Her stepmother and many of her sisters knew about her love for Mr. Darcy, so they had reason to be concerned with tales of the duel and Mr. Darcy’s death having been carried to Longbourn.

Elizabeth deflected as many inquiries as she could, saying she had lost herself in walking after Colonel Fitzwilliam had brought her his terrible news, and after the colonel had then taken her to Darcy’s side. But now there was the startling news of his recovery to share which distracted her family from other, more uneasy questions about her missing time. Colonel Fitzwilliam, meanwhile, asked to meet with Mr. Bennet.

Mr. Bennet was not quite sure what to make of the man before him. Once or twice, Bennet had wondered how the situation would unfold when a worthless young man came to beg him for one of his daughters’ hands in marriage. It had never occurred to him that one man might ask on another’s behalf.

He first viewed the unknown man with a great deal of suspicion (and wearing a red coat which added to Bennet’s uneasiness). Mr. Bennet had, at least, suspected that he would have some acquaintance with his future son-in-law. But to have one stranger ask on another stranger’s behalf puzzled him exceedingly, and Bennet said so.

“Why doesn’t this Darcy come and ask me himself?” Mr. Bennet protested as he glared at the soldier across from him. The man frowned back as he brought his hands together in front of his chest, though it was not a sign of prayer.

“Darcy is lying injured in his bed,” was the army man’s reply.

“Well, what is the rush?” cried Bennet, who disliked any disruption to his day or his routine. “Why does Mr. Darcy not wait until whatever ails him has passed and then come ask me himself?”

Those fingers became interlaced, and the knuckles turned red and white as his grip tightened. “Have you not heard any of the news today, sir? About the duel?” demanded the colonel.

“Duel?” frowned Bennet. “A fight? What has that got to do with my Lizzy?”

“Mr. Darcy was injured, shot in a duel. He fought for your daughter’s honor. I doubt anyone in Meryton has talked of ought else today,” said this man to him.

“Well…I’ve been reading,” Bennet answered, deflecting his ignorance.

“Darcy has already asked Miss Elizabeth and been accepted. He has been to London and back to get a special license,” explained the soldier.

“Accepted? A special license?” Bennet cried. “Without my permission?” Mr. Bennet stood to ring for a servant, sending for both his wife and daughter. He turned back to look at this strange man and this even stranger conversation. “What is the world coming to when daughters agree to marry without their father’s permission!”

***

Elizabeth had managed to retreat to her room, escaping most questions, and ordered a bath. She had not gone so far as washing when her stepmother knocked and entered.

“Your father wishes to speak to you,” announced Mrs. Bennet.

Elizabeth sighed. “Help me button my frock?” she asked. Elizabeth had a new dress lying out, ready to wear to dinner, and pulled that on without the benefit of her bath. Mrs. Bennet buttoned her up, and they went to speak to her father.

“What do you mean by accepting this man?” cried her father, once Elizabeth and her stepmother entered his study. “Well, the offer this man makes on another man’s behalf? I have heard nothing!”

“I have, my dear,” soothed his wife as Mrs. Bennet settled in her chair.

“Mr. Darcy and I met in London,” began Elizabeth.

“Despite having never seen this fellow before,” Mr. Bennet indicated Colonel Fitzwilliam as he interrupted Elizabeth, “I have at least met that Darcy fellow once or twice; he seems as fine a man as I could wish for you or any of my daughters.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed to bristle about the lackluster praise for his cousin but held his tongue.

“Why did you never mention such a thing to me?” scolded Mr. Bennet.

“When do we ever discuss such things with you, Papa?” was her answer.

“It seems that if I am approached in such a manner, that this man Darcy is determined to have you—by sending this emissary from his sickbed to ask for your hand, and after having gone to London to get a license even before asking me.” Perhaps there was the tiniest bit of sadness that Mr. Bennet’s permission had not been sought before that license had been obtained.

“I do love him, Papa. We met in London as I said, and spent almost a month together there. It was Colonel Fitzwilliam who introduced us. Our affection for each other was founded then. Mr. Darcy might even have asked for my hand while I was still staying with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner back in June.”

“Why didn’t he?” barked Bennet.

“I was called back home quite suddenly as you must recall,” Elizabeth replied.

There was silence then in that over-crowded study.

“I will give you my consent,” said her father. “If Darcy has a special license, I suppose I shall lose you quite soon?”

“We are most desirous to wed,” Elizabeth confirmed. “Thank you, Papa. I love him. The colonel can testify to Mr. Darcy’s and my knowing each other for a generous amount of time. And our affection has stood the test of many months since I returned home.” Privately, Elizabeth considered that it had stood other trials as well.

Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded but had nothing to say.

“Very well. I am sure that Mrs. Bennet will let me know the particulars.” Mr. Bennet was about to dismiss them when the door was thrown open, and Cousin Collins stormed in.

“I am shocked to hear of such behavior on the part of one of your daughters. Unchaperoned, wild, at loose, spending hours today with an unknown man!” wailed Mr. Bennet’s heir. Mr. Collins then stopped to stare at the assembly of people in his master’s study. He did not apologize for the interruption, however. Collins did not even stop to consider that he had not made the acquaintance of the other man in the room.

“My patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, will be shocked when I write to her. You should throw off this unworthy child, thrown her out of your house immediately!” bellowed Mr. Collins.

“Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth, Colonel? Will you excuse me while I speak with my heir?” asked Mr. Bennet. His voice was cold as he dismissed them.

Colonel Fitzwilliam said goodbye to Mr. Bennet and then again to Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth after they had exited Mr. Bennet’s study. Fitzwilliam left to return to Netherfield.

Mrs. Bennet escorted Elizabeth back up the stairs, kissed her in congratulations, and said she would come as chaperone to Netherfield the next day when solicited by her stepdaughter. Elizabeth was finally able to have her bath, though it was a short one as the dinner bell would soon ring.

Mr. Collins was not at the dinner table. His absence was remarked upon by Mr. Bennet who said that Collins had departed from Longbourn.

“Has Mr. Collins returned to Kent?” asked Mary.

“I do not know where he took himself off to,” said their father in an indifferent tone. “I only know he is no longer staying here.” Mr. Bennet looked down the table at Elizabeth. “I have some brighter news. It seems our Lizzy has fallen in love and actually induced a young man to ask for her hand in marriage. I congratulate you, Elizabeth.” He nodded to his second daughter, who stood at her chair next to her stepmother as they all waited for him to finish speaking so they could sit.

There were exclamations from all of her sisters—some of surprise, mostly of congratulations. Questions which had been held back earlier were all thrown towards her now, though with servants in the room, she did her best to put off answering them. Elizabeth could talk about her time in London and all of the soirees, and card parties she had attended, and of the trips to the park with her beloved.

Catherine and Lydia’s eyes glowed by the end of the meal at all of the delights their sister had enjoyed in London. They also narrowed as they considered what they had missed by being left behind in Meryton under Miss Blank’s care.

***

While her stepmother was supposed to attend Elizabeth the next morning, Mrs. Bennet found herself indisposed and unable to accompany her stepdaughter to Netherfield. Mrs. Hill was sent as a substitute, though a servant was not typically considered an appropriate chaperone. Mr. Jones and Mr. Miller were both present and said Mr. Darcy had done as well as either hoped for during the night, but that he had not shown any signs of consciousness. Elizabeth spent her day in Darcy’s room waiting for him to wake. Mrs. Hill sat quietly with sewing in her lap, asleep as often as not.

Elizabeth was called to lunch with Mr. Bingley when her stepmother arrived with an unexpected visitor: Jane. It was a short luncheon, and the tension and concern shared by everyone did not allow for much conversation. Elizabeth assumed Jane would return to Longbourn with Mrs. Hill as Mrs. Bennet was to then sit with Elizabeth while they watched over Darcy and waited for him to wake. She appreciated the extra attention and support from Jane by coming to Netherfield to ask in person about Elizabeth’s betrothed.

The period after luncheon was long. Elizabeth was not able to find anything to occupy her time but could only wait, staring at Darcy, watching his chest moving under the sheets for any indication of a change as a sign that he was waking. There was no fluttering of his eyes, his hands didn’t move, and Elizabeth could only watch and will him to come back to her.

Mr. Jones came late in the afternoon. Mrs. Bennet rose when the apothecary came in and said she would step out to seek a cup of tea while Mr. Jones checked on his patient. Elizabeth opted to remain in the room and watched the apothecary as he ran hands over his patient. Once he completed his examination, Mr. Jones stood to stare down at Darcy. Elizabeth thought he too was willing Darcy to return.

“Time, Miss Bennet. Time and we’ll see him recover,” Mr. Jones assured her as he turned to give her a smile.

“I am hopeful,” Elizabeth replied.

“I’ll go take a cup of tea with Mrs. Nicholls and then check on him again,” remarked the apothecary, who made his way to the door. Elizabeth merely nodded at him.

The door shut with the softest of clicks as Mr. Jones went to stretch his legs and searched for that cup of tea. Her eyes swung back to the pale figure in the bed, and Elizabeth found a dark pair of eyes looking at her. A sensation, like hoofbeats, thundered in her chest as her heart took flight at the sight of his waking. Elizabeth moved from where she stood, over to the right side of the bed (his uninjured side), and tentatively sat down, just on the edge.

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake,” Elizabeth began. “It would not be complete until you were conscious again.”

“I’ve been dreaming of you,” said Darcy. He sounded weak and did not move short of turning his head to gaze at her. “My last thought was of you, and my first sight is of your face. My thoughts and memories of everything in-between have been of you as well,” Darcy murmured.

“I can hardly believe that I have you again,” declared Elizabeth. “Do you…” she attempted to figure out how to pose questions about everything that had occurred in the other world. “Do you recall what happened after the duel? Do you recall the colonel and me meeting with you?”

“I have memories of a journey that is most extraordinary,” Darcy replied, moving slightly to settle his shoulders. He grimaced, and Elizabeth thought that any movement must cause him pain which was why he remained sitting so stiffly.

“I am sorry that I was the cause of your suffering,” whispered Elizabeth as tears pooled in her eyes. She felt a stab of pain in her gut for the pain her beloved must be suffering on account of the duel.

“Think not of having caused my suffering,” Darcy remarked. “There were other reasons for my quarrel with George Wickham. There could have been other outcomes from the duel; Wickham could have chosen swords with which I have little experience.” Darcy smiled wryly before schooling his face as though smiles were painful. Elizabeth thought he must be very extremely exhausted.

“The apothecary and surgeon don’t know what to make of your recovery,” she proclaimed. “But the colonel and I do. We know you’ve been given another chance.” The pain in her gut twisted and cramped; Elizabeth felt she might be sick. What if Darcy did not recall why he had come back or did not choose to have Elizabeth be a part of his second lease at life?

“My father has given me a great gift,” his words were faint, but Darcy was looking at her and nowhere else. Her lover had no energy to smile but put everything into keeping his eyes focused on Elizabeth’s and into speaking. “I shall not waste such love. And if Reverend White will do the trick tomorrow, will you marry me that quickly?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth whispered in return. “My heart is yours. It is but a formality now to be joined together.”

His eyes were closing, “we shall do it as soon as I…” but Darcy was lost to sleep once more. Elizabeth supposed him to mean that as soon as Darcy was able to sit up and attend the ceremony. Or perhaps as soon as he could remain conscious for any length of time. She hoped they did not need to wait for him to be well enough to stand and get himself to church.

Mr. Jones almost did not believe Elizabeth that Mr. Darcy had woken up while the apothecary had been away, but Elizabeth assured him that the patient had been awake for a matter of a few minutes. Mr. Jones took that as a good sign, left more draughts, and promised to call in the morning. Mr. Bingley called her to come downstairs to tea, and Elizabeth shared the heartening news with him and the colonel that Darcy had been awake for a short period. Colonel Fitzwilliam was especially pleased with that small, encouraging news of Darcy’s recovery.

Jane had returned home, but Mrs. Bennet still remained. Elizabeth could tell that her stepmother wished to be home as well, so after sipping her cup of tea, Elizabeth agreed to return to Longbourn.

Home, however, was not the haven it had been. There was a whirlwind of activity and noise which contrasted with the calm at Netherfield. There was also news: Mr. Bingley had proposed marriage to Jane during her short visit to Netherfield that afternoon. There were more congratulations and an air of excitement as the three oldest celebrated such blessings. The two youngest seemed more inclined to fits—feeling jealous and left out.

***

The next morning, Mrs. Bennet again felt indisposed so Mrs. Hill accompanied Elizabeth in the carriage to Netherfield. Elizabeth was met by Colonel Fitzwilliam who looked dressed for a journey.

“Good morning,” Fitzwilliam greeted her, though his voice was dismissive.

“Good morning, Colonel. How does he fare?” Elizabeth asked, wondering if something had happened during the night. Was he off to London to fetch a specialist?

“Darcy is recovering,” Fitzwilliam replied. “Please do not worry about that.” He watched as the staff finished taking Elizabeth’s and Mrs. Hill’s outer garments. The housekeeper went to stand discreetly at the end of the foyer near the main stairs.

“Are you going visiting or traveling?” asked Elizabeth, taking in his greatcoat-covered figure.

“I am going to Pemberley to fetch Georgiana,” Fitzwilliam explained.

Elizabeth guessed that the colonel was unhappy with his task. She remarked, “I had not considered poor Miss Darcy. She does not know of her brother’s injuries.”

“Georgiana must be told,” Fitzwilliam replied, though he looked like he wished someone else had the assignment. Elizabeth wondered if the colonel feared that Miss Darcy would be distraught when Georgiana heard the news about her brother. Elizabeth supposed few men would wish to deliver news about a brother’s injuries from a duel. She doubted that Fitzwilliam would mention the journey to that other world.

“If you will wait, I shall write her a short letter,” said Elizabeth.

And though the colonel was impatient to leave, Colonel Fitzwilliam acceded to her request. Elizabeth wrote her new sister a letter in which she introduced herself, her family and town, and did her best to reassure Georgiana Darcy that her brother was being well-cared for and that Darcy would assuredly recover.