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LIZZY PACED AROUND the sitting room where she had been relegated upon arrival with Mr. Jones, sharing the space with Mr. Darcy, Mr. Hurst, and Mrs. Hurst. She’d heard from Mrs. Hurst that Miss Bingley was currently abed with a headache. Lizzy couldn’t help wondering if it was the kind of headache that occurred when she’d realized Lizzy had arrived.
“If you do not cease your pacing, your prints will wear a new pattern into the rug, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy.
She looked up, startled to hear the tone of amusement in his voice. She nodded absently, stopping her pacing as she came over to sit on the settee. It was closer to him than she’d like to be, but she squeezed her hands together and tried to endure. She sat quietly for a few minutes, not realizing she was fidgeting by pleating her skirt until Mr. Darcy said, “I fear your dress is now receiving similar treatment to our poor rug. Is any fiber safe from you, madam?”
Her mouth dropped open, and she was preparing an angry retort when she realized he was teasing her gently. She was startled by it, wondering if perhaps he was trying to distract her from her fear for Jane by the unaccustomed behavior he displayed. She’d certainly never seen anything carefree about him before, though to be fair, they had rarely interacted. Even yesterday, they had exchanged no more than a dozen words when he’d joined them at Longbourn for tea.
“I daresay any fabric you prefer shall be quite safe from me, Mr. Darcy, for I doubt we have any taste in common.”
He arched a brow. “Indeed. I confess a preference for woolen socks. They are most toasty, particularly on a winter’s evening, and they hold up well when one is slogging through the pond to retrieve a duck.”
Lizzy frowned. “I must confess, I can hardly imagine you in that position. Would you not have a dog or servants for such things?”
He smiled. “Indeed, I have three very fine dogs, and I do have a very fine servant indeed, but upon occasion, one must fend for oneself.”
“This is a skill you have managed to acquire, Mr. Darcy? You have the ability to fend for yourself?” She made no effort to hide her disbelief, in fact intensifying it in hopes he would consider it banter. She was attempting to interact with him on the same level, but on a deeper level, she really could not believe he’d ever ventured into a pond to retrieve his own duck.
“I have survived six-and-twenty years by my own devices, Miss Bennet. You should look to me for wisdom and guidance.” He sounded so sanctimonious it had to be an affectation for her amusement. Surely.
She couldn’t help a small laugh. “You are but six years older than me, and while you are practically a wizened paragon of wisdom, I am quite adept at taking care of myself as well.”
“I do not doubt that.” He was unexpectedly serious for a moment, and she wondered where his thoughts had wondered.
It chilled her that he might be thinking about her mother and father, deeming them unfit parents that had forced her to practically raise herself, as though she were a wild animal. Deciding she was overthinking it, she didn’t call him on it. “You have been writing that letter for a long time, Mr. Darcy.”
His lips twitched. “I am flattered you have noted the time I have spent on this letter to my dear sister, Miss Bennet. She will be joining us shortly, and I want to ensure she has everything she needs.”
She smiled in a simpering fashion. “It is difficult not to notice when I have nothing else to occupy my thoughts, and you have engaged exclusively in the letter writing since my arrival.”
“Not exclusively. I have managed to tear myself away long enough to look out for the excellent rug.”
Lizzy was surprised by how his smile changed his face. It was most definitely the first real one he’d given her, and though it barely changed the tilt of his lips, moving them slightly upward, the motion caused a crinkling at the sides of his mouth and warmed his eyes. He was almost breathtaking, and she couldn’t help wondering what he would look like in full joy.
She quickly squashed the speculation as she reminded herself he had no right to feel joy after what he had done to Mr. Wickham. After being such an insufferable boor at the Assembly ball, he merited prolonged discomfort, but for the actions against Mr. Wickham, he deserved to live his days in wretched misery.
Recalling why she so strongly objected to him, she sat back and made no attempt to further engage with him. When she started tapping her foot lightly, he didn’t point out the tic to her this time, though he did say, “Your sister will be well.”
She nodded, disconcerted by the soothing tone of voice he’d used. He seemed to want to take away some of her anxiety, and such concern was an unexpected thing from Mr. Darcy.
“Indeed, it is for you I fear far more than your sister,” he said quietly and unexpectedly.
She blinked as she looked at him again. “I beg your pardon?”
His face was pinched now as he frowned in disapproval. “The company you keep is not good for a young woman, Miss Bennet. You would do well to preserve your reputation and heart by steering clear of a rake like George Wickham.”
Lizzy gasped her outrage. “You dare criticize Mr. Wickham after what you have done?” She ignored his sharp frown. “The very hypocrisy.” With a shake of her head, she got to her feet and started pacing again, this time moving to the farthest point in the library from him, so she wouldn’t even accidentally interact with him.
A short time later, there was a knock at the door, and Mr. Jones entered. He held his hat in one hand and his black bag in the other. “I left medicine for Miss Jane, but I recommend she not be moved until the rattle in her lungs has dissipated.”
Lizzy surged forward. “Will she be all right?”
“I see no reason to think otherwise. Miss Jane is in good health, and I have seen her but twice in her life, both times for trifling colds like this one. I expect she shall rebound within a day or two and be well enough to return home. In the interim, she must rest as much as possible, and be sure to give her the medications I have left behind. I also left instructions.”
“I shall see to it,” said Lizzy.
“Of course, you must stay too,” said Bingley then.
Lizzy smiled at him. “Thank you, Mr. Bingley. I do appreciate your extended hospitality for myself and my sister. You could hardly have expected tea would become a three-day stay.” She tried to laugh it off, but she felt self-conscious as she recalled her mother’s maneuverings, which had led to this.
Mr. Bingley seemed fine with that. “Do pass along my well wishes to your sister, and I hope you shall join us for dinner. I will continue to send a servant to check on her on an hourly basis.”
“Most generous of you.” Lizzy didn’t commit to dinner, hoping she could avoid the idea entirely. She didn’t want to spend much time in the presence of the unpleasant people composing Bingley’s party. Mr. Bingley himself was the exception, being a charming and open fellow, with none of the hauteur or disdain of Mr. Darcy and the others.
***
JANE WAS COHERENT ENOUGH to insist Lizzy go down for dinner. “It would be rude not to when they are kind enough to host us. I only wish I could join you.” She paused as a deep cough racked her body.
Lizzy frowned. “I feel I should stay here with you.”
Jane smiled gently. “I will be doing naught but sleeping, dear sister. If you must, you can send in a maid to sit with me while you eat, but I insist you take care of yourself.”
“I could have a tray sent up.”
Jane frowned. “That would simply create more work for the staff. No, you must interact and be a gracious guest. Mother would be a stickler for decorum, you know.” Jane’s eyes sparkled, not just from fever, as she said the words before she coughed again. It had started as a laugh before becoming the thick, raspy sound.
Lizzy tried once more. “You do not sound well. I would feel better if I stayed with you.”
“I would feel better if you represented us with manners and showed we are all not from the same mold, dear sister.” There was a hint of sharpness in Jane’s tone that was rarely there. “Please represent the Bennet family as we should be.”
Lizzy realized Jane was counting on her to make a good impression with the rest of the guests, hoping to counter whatever sense Fanny Bennet had left upon them. She thought it was already a lost cause, but she sighed in defeat, realizing this was something Jane needed from her—more than she needed her to bathe her brow or watch her sleep to ensure she didn’t stop breathing. That was unlikely anyway, and this was a more tangible thing she could do for Jane. “Very well.”
With a resigned sigh, she found herself leaving Jane’s room a short time later and venturing through the house, guided by instructions from Mr. Fellows, the butler, to find the dining room. When she entered, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy immediately stood up. After a brief hesitation, Mr. Hurst did the same, and she smiled at them while she took her seat before they returned to theirs.
“I am almost surprised to see you. I thought you would be nursing your sister. Her health is why you are here, is it not?” asked Caroline in an arch tone.
Lizzy gritted her teeth and managed what she hoped was a bland smile. “Jane insisted. She wanted to be certain I would eat so I can take care of her. She is a thoughtful girl.”
“Indeed, she is. She is most kind and compassionate. I do not recall when I have met someone of her sterling character before,” said Bingley.
Lizzy’s lips twitched as he waxed poetically about Jane for the next minute before he finally regained control of himself. She was pleased to see her sister’s tendre was certainly reciprocated.
“How is Miss Jane?” asked Mrs. Hurst, who seemed to simply because it was expected and not because she cared about the answer.
“She is running a fever, and she has a nasty cough. I hope Mr. Jones is correct in his assessment she shall be back to normal, or at least well enough to move home, in the next couple of days.” Lizzy couldn’t wait to be home and away from the oppressive party at Netherfield. If she didn’t feel like Jane needed someone at her side, both as an ally and a caregiver, she would have kept herself at Longbourn to start with.
“What news is there from London?” asked Mr. Hurst abruptly, clearly done with the topic of Jane’s health.
“I do not know. I did not bother to have the paper delivered here,” said Bingley. He grinned, clearly unrepentant despite Mr. Hurst’s obvious disapproval. “I wanted to get away from London and immerse myself in the local scene. It matters not which duke’s daughter is having her coming out, or which matron insulted another at Almack’s. Here, none of that is a concern.”
“Whatever could be going on in this rusticated area that is more exciting than London?” asked Miss Bingley with a curl of her nose.
Before she could think better of it, Lizzy said, “We have had several thefts of late.”
“That is dreadful,” said Mrs. Hurst. She looked around, as though she expected them to be pillaged any moment. “Are we safe here?”
“It does not sound as if we are, dear sister,” said Miss Bingley. For her impassioned outburst, she looked remarkably unaffected. “I suggest we pack up and return to London right away. Of course, you and Miss Bennet must stay here until she has recovered, Miss Eliza.”
Lizzy grimaced, wondering why Miss Bingley had picked that name for her. Surely, she must have heard from someone that Elizabeth disliked it to have latched onto it. Only Charlotte called her Eliza, and that went back to the days when they would run through the lands of Longbourn or Lucas Lodge, pretending they were pirates.
Sometimes, they were princesses, though Miss Eliza and Miss Lottie were always the heroes in their pieces, not requiring a prince to rescue them. That bit of nostalgia allowed her to endure the nickname from Charlotte, and she thought about telling Miss Bingley she disliked it, but she was certain the woman would continue to use it, and at every given opportunity, if she revealed her distaste.
“I am certain you are quite safe. The thefts began a few weeks ago, and so far, they have been mostly trivial things.”
“Has something changed about the area?” asked Mr. Darcy unexpectedly. “Have new people arrived, for example?”
Miss Bingley laughed uncomfortably. “Surely you are not suggesting we are the thieves, Mr. Darcy?” She laughed with a high-pitched, shrill giggle she probably thought was quite fetching.
Lizzy shuddered at the sound, but she kept her attention focused on Mr. Darcy. “Indeed, the militia arrived about that time.” She braced herself, recalling Constable Walters’s overreaction to the suggestion. He had acted like she’d committed treason at just the very idea of suggesting one of the militia among them might not be strictly honorable.
His lips tightened. “Interesting timing. What a coincidence. We used to have such coincidences happen at Pemberley from time to time, but then they stopped almost a decade ago.”
There was surely some significance to his words, and Lizzy intuited he was perhaps implying Mr. Wickham had stolen from Pemberley. That was a foul thing to suggest, but she could hardly challenge him on it now and maintain good manners. Since she was here to represent the Bennet family on Jane’s behalf, she couldn’t get into an argument with her host’s guest. She just ignored him, not bothering to reply to that or look at him again throughout the rest of dinner.