One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (58 page)

“Jane, do you suppose Mr. Jones will approve my return to Longbourn soon? I do so miss having the rest of my family near—the comfort of your presence is all that keeps me easy here, Jane—I can plainly see that I have put someone out of their bedchamber.”

Jane did not reply, although she looked troubled as Elizabeth spoke.

“There remain a number of personal articles about the room,” Elizabeth waved her hand toward a shelf that contained several articles. “Although I have slept most of the time I have been here, I am certainly not blind when I
 
am
 
awake, although the room is dark enough to make me feel as though I am. I am truly mortified to think of it. The sooner I go, the sooner the room may be restored to its occupant.”

“Hush, Lizzy. Mr. Darcy was most willing to give his room up for you.” Jane chided her sister gently. “You must not be ungrateful, after what has been done for you here. You are
 
not
 
yet well enough to go, not while the fever persists. You must rest and get well.”

“This is Mr. Darcy's bedchamber?” Elizabeth gasped. “I cannot stay here!”

“You cannot do otherwise.” Jane replied and began to prepare another draught for her sister, which Elizabeth noticed and immediately protested.

“Jane, please, I do not wish another dose! The draughts fog my mind, truly, and give me such dreams as you would not wish to hear. Besides, I have already slept far too much. Please just sit and talk with me.”

Jane stopped with her preparations and, instead, sat in the chair at Elizabeth's bedside, taking up her hand. “Lizzy, I have been so worried for you, and Mr. Jones said that sleep would help you recover. If you will take the medicine for the fever and the sleeping draught together, I will tell you something that will most assuredly bring you great happiness, as it has already done for me.”

“Tell me first, Jane, so that my mind is perfectly clear when you tell me, for happy news will do me far better than rest.”

Jane moved to the edge of the bed and took both of Elizabeth's hands in her own. “Mr. Bingley...,” Jane started.

“He has made you an offer!” Elizabeth cried out, and Jane responded with enthusiastic nods of her smiling face as little squeaking giggles burst from her lips. “I knew that he loved you!” Elizabeth exulted. “When did this happen? What did Papa say? And Mama? She must have hardly known what to say—for now her dream has come true, and I will not have to worry of what she will say when I refuse Mr. Collins.”

Jane looked quizzically at Elizabeth. “Mr. Bingley proposed just a few minutes ago. We are preparing to return to Longbourn as soon as you are settled, so that Mr. Bingley may gain Papa's consent, and I may share the news with Mama. I could not bear to miss seeing her face when she learns of it. I am so very, very happy, Lizzy—it is nearly too much joy to bear, too much good fortune to be true!”

Elizabeth reached her arms out, and the two shared a sisterly embrace before Jane pulled back and set her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders.

“Lizzy, I am very glad be the means by which such peace and security may be brought to our family, and we shall speak of that more in a moment, but something you said just now has confused me. Did not Mr. Collins already make you an offer?”

“When would he have had an opportunity to do so, Jane? I have been here with you since the ball.” Elizabeth replied.

“Then what did he say to you? Mama said he was to propose...,” Jane shook her head in bewilderment.

“You are confused, Jane. I did not dance so much as one step with Mr. Collins, which is a great relief, and thankfully, I have not seen him since the ball, for he is at Longbourn, and I am here,” Elizabeth said.

“But, Elizabeth,” Jane wrung her hands as she spoke. “Mr. Collins came here with Mama this morning and had an audience with you—alone. Mama insisted that it was quite within the bounds of propriety, since he was a kinsman and a clergyman. She told us as we waited outside the door that it was his plan to propose to you. Do you not recall what he said?”

“Mama was here?” Elizabeth's eyes widened.

“Lizzy, she was here this morning and spoke with you before Mr. Collins did” Jane said quietly. “Try to remember.”

Elizabeth sat, her eyebrows knit together in frustration as she tried to recall the event, but at length she let out an exasperated noise. “I dreamt of Mama coming to tend to my fever, but that is all. What did she say?”

“I do not know,” Jane said. “She was alone with you, as was Mr. Collins.”

“I was alone with Mr. Collins? I do not like the sound of that, Jane, not at all! I cannot recollect
 
seeing
 
him, let alone
 
speaking
 
with him. I most certainly hope that I did not accept his proposal! Pray, at what hour did they come?”

Jane thought for a moment. “I daresay it was but a few minutes after I had given you a sleeping draught when Mr. Collins, Mama, Mary, Kitty and Lydia all arrived. You had not yet gone to sleep, and I was certain you would be happy to see Mama. I did not know she was to send Mr. Collins in to speak with you until it was too late.

A soft knock at the doorframe caused Elizabeth to look up, her face beaming with unmistakable joy, as for a short moment, the silhouette and stature of the man, caused her to believe the visitor was Mr. Darcy. Jane did not see her sister's expression, having turned around to face the door.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Jane greeted him graciously. “How fare you this day?”

Standing in the doorway, Colonel Fitzwilliam did not fail to see Elizabeth's countenance fall when she realized she had mistaken his identity. “Ah, Miss Elizabeth, I am glad to see that you are awake.” He said, with a gentlemanly bow that reminded Elizabeth once more of his cousin. “I apologize for having overheard a part of your conversation just now. It was unintentional, but perhaps fortuitous. Am I to understand that you do not recall your conversation with Mr. Collins this morning?”

Elizabeth nodded with a disturbed frown. “I do not remember seeing him at all.”

“That must seem very strange, but I assure you that you are not going mad. I have seen this same phenomenon in soldiers who have been administered opiates, which no doubt your sleeping draughts contain,” the colonel replied thoughtfully. “I may yet be of some service to you, Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Collins himself told me that he had indeed made an offer of marriage to you and that you refused him. Mr. Bingley was also present when he spoke of your refusal and can verify what I say. I tell you this with some trepidation and a warning that I believe he intends to renew his addresses at his earliest opportunity.”

“Upon my word,” said Elizabeth with an anxious laugh, “it is a fine state of affairs to discover that I have refused a proposal that I cannot even remember receiving. I suppose that so long as he did not compromise me, my refusal by your word shall stand for now.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked cautiously at Jane before he spoke again. “Mr. Collins is by no means to be trusted, Miss Elizabeth. You must not allow yourself to be alone with him, or you may find your fears realized.”

“Oh, no!” Jane cried, “You are wrong! Mr. Collins is a very good man and would never compromise anyone, although his manners
 
are
 
rather peculiar. He is certainly not a good match for Lizzy, but we were hoping to turn his attention to Mary, who likes him very much.”

“I am not wrong,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said seriously to Jane before he turned to face the bed once more. “Miss Elizabeth, I suppose we must now ascertain whether your memory is intact for other conversations that occurred in this state as well.”

“I fear I do not remember much that has transpired since the ball.” Elizabeth looked sad. “I know that I have suffered some very strange delusions from the fever and now am left to wonder if any of my memories are genuine, or if they are
 
all
 
imagined.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at Elizabeth, a warm smile on his face. “My cousin Darcy visited you. Do you recall a conversation with him?”

Elizabeth blushed. “I do.”

“That was real,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said with a laugh. “You may trust your memory on that count, at least.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said with a secretive smile. “It is a happy thought, indeed, to discover that I did not imagine it.”

“Do not concern yourself with occupying these quarters, Miss Elizabeth,” the colonel reassured her. “Darcy has gone to London to take care of some business matters and collect his sister, Miss Darcy. He should return in a few days’ time.”

“Oh, yes.” Elizabeth beamed. “He did inform me that he is to bring his sister. Please tell me what she is like.”

“She has grown to be much like her brother in many respects,” Colonel Fitzwilliam began. “Like him, she is tall, with a reserved nature. She adores children, and....”

“Does Mr. Darcy adore children?” Elizabeth interrupted.

“Well, yes, Miss Elizabeth, as a matter of fact, he does, provided that they are not
 
too
 
naughty.” The colonel's eyebrows rose knowingly. “I suspect that you were something of a mischief maker when you were young, were you not?”

Elizabeth laughed gaily. “I shall not answer you, sir! If I deny it, you will not believe me, and if I confess it, you will press for details. No, please continue telling me of Miss Darcy.”

The colonel chuckled at Elizabeth's reply and continued, “She is a lovely young lady and very accomplished on the pianoforte, although she does not like to perform for others very much. She sings quite well for one so young. Sometimes her brother even joins her for a duet.”

“Mr. Darcy sings?” Elizabeth was incredulous.

“Oh, yes, and quite well too, although never when in company. One must creep up quietly to hear him sing.” The colonel laughed. “He is a man of many talents, but he has a nice bushel under which he conceals all but the very dull talents.”

“You have heard him sing?” Elizabeth was skeptical.

“Many times—but only because I am an excellent sneak.”

“Do you also sing?” Elizabeth teased.

“I do, but only in company with the hounds—they are the only ones who will sing with me.

“Colonel, we must
 
force
 
him to sing a duet with his sister!” Elizabeth declared. “I must hear it for myself!”

“It is far likelier, madam, that you could coax him to sing a duet with
 
you
.”

“Excuse me, Colonel.” Jane interrupted, “I need to give Elizabeth her medicine now, and she will fall asleep soon after. Thank you for visiting her, but you must go now.”

“Very well.” The colonel grinned at Elizabeth. “There will be time later for me to divulge more of my cousin's secrets to you, I am sure.”

~*~

Mr. Bennet was relaxing over a book and a glass of port when a knock came on the study door. “Enter.” He called, although he rolled his eyes at the interruption.

“Mr. Bennet,” said Mrs. Bennet—more calmly than was her wont, as she smoothed the front of her dress. “I need your advice.”

“You seek my advice?” Mr. Bennet put down his book and looked at his wife sternly. “Do not sport with me, Mrs. Bennet.”

“Do not be ridiculous, my dear, I would never sport with you, but find myself puzzled over what I must do.” She primly sat on a chair near to her husband. “I was very rudely set down today.”

“I do not have the pleasure of understanding you. On which circumstance do you seek my counsel, your state of puzzlement or to redress the question of your set down?” Mr. Bennet looked over the top of his reading glasses at his wife. “I have never known you to be missish about such things.”

“Oh, Mr. Bennet, do not tease me today. I am quite beside myself already, and you do not know—you cannot understand how I suffer. You cannot help but know that they are two sides of the same coin!” Mrs. Bennet plucked nervously at her sleeves and straightened her mobcap as her carefully collected composure began to collapse. “When we were at Netherfield today, Mr. Collins was to propose to Lizzy, but Colonel Fitzwilliam came and took him away, in a most high-handed manner. Then, what do you suppose, but that Lady Catherine came to the chambers to call on Elizabeth while we were still there. At first, I thought she paid our Lizzy a compliment, her being a great lady as she is, but very soon, I realized that she was in high dudgeon, although for what reason I cannot say. I do not think the woman is quite well in the head!”