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“Mr. Bennet.”
Elliot’s heart raced as he saw the tall, brooding figure of Mr. Darcy approach. He swallowed against a sudden lump in his throat and promised himself that he would ensure that he was all propriety. “Mr. Darcy. I did not expect to see you here.”
“I walk every day, Mr. Bennet.”
“As do I.”
“And what is your preferred time of the day to walk?”
“Early, Mr. Darcy, as dawn begins. Over the grounds of Longbourn. It is always quite beautiful at that time of the day.”
“I favour that time also. Alas, this walk was motivated by a message rather than pleasure,” Mr. Darcy said. “I offered to seek you out with it.”
“Jack—”
“No. Jack is well and awaiting your return in fact, ready to away to Longbourn. Charles’ carriage will not be necessary, however, as your mother and your brothers have arrived.”
“Mama?”
“Yes.”
“And Marc, Christan and…Louis?”
“Indeed.”
Elliot was suddenly spurred into action. He picked up his pace, walking as quickly as convention allowed. He dearly hoped that the family were behaving but experience had taught him that without his or Jack’s restraining presence, they were apt not to, and with Jack being ill…
“You are eager to see your family,” Mr. Darcy noted.
“I am always pleased to see them,” Elliot replied, and he was, but with Mr. Bingley well on his way to falling for Jack, Elliot saw no need to introduce any additional factors that might work against that. Part of him, and it was a part that Elliot did not understand, was also anxious about what Mr. Darcy might think of his family when confronted with them in such an intimate setting.
The Bingleys, Hursts, and Bennets were taking tea. Jack was with them though well wrapped up. Even with his flushed skin he looked as handsome as ever. He also looked a little worried. As we both are, Elliot thought!
“He is a great deal too ill to be moved,” Mrs. Bennet was saying as Elliot and Mr. Darcy entered the room. “But given he is insisting,” she shot Jack a disapproving look, “we shall trespass on your kindness no more.”
“If only Jack would consent to stay!” Mr. Bingley cried. “He is most welcome.”
“Mr. Bennet has received every possible attention while he has been with us,” said Miss Bingley, with cold civility.
“To this I can attest,” Elliot said quickly. “His comfort has been assured.”
Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments of that. “I am sure,” she added, “if it was not for such good friends, I do not know what would have become of him, for he is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world. Which is always the way with dear Jack, for he has, without exception, the sweetest temper I ever met with.” She did not pat her son’s hand on this occasion, given she was across the room, lest she catch whatever cold he had. “I often tell my other boys they are nothing to Jack.”
Elliot wanted to groan and not because Mrs. Bennet’s words were untrue but because he saw no reason for them to be raised here!
“You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley,” she continued. “And a charming prospect over that gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease.”
How had she discovered the length of his lease?
“Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” Mr. Bingley replied cheerfully. “And therefore, if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.”
“That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” Jack said quickly, so clearly keen to divert attention from Mrs. Bennet.
“You begin to comprehend me, do you?” Mr. Bingley said, cheerful still.
“Oh yes, I understand you perfectly,” Jack replied, and Bingley’s smile changed to one of satisfaction.
“I wish I might take this for a compliment,” he said softly, teasingly. “But to be so easily seen through, I am afraid, is pitiful.”
