“Just a little — I knowhissort. He is a second son, and if he is to marry at all, he must marry well. Any woman with a dowry of at least twenty thousand will do. But even with that much, and his salary as a colonel — hardly enough together to support a wife in proper style. Hardly enough.”
“Ah, and is that the chief element of his horridness? He hopes to marry without sufficient money set aside for the task?”
“Of course not. I would be quite the snob if I disliked every man who hoped to marry better than his desserts — he is horrid because he refuses to… oh, I can hardly describe it. You shall see when you meet him.”
It was as though the words summoned forth this devil.
With a clatter dampened by the mud and ongoing rain, the carriage returned, and with a cavalcade of footsteps and a gust of cold air the gentlemen entered the drawing room. Mr. Darcy led with his long stride, followed by Charlie and Caroline’s hated Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Elizabeth only had the opportunity for a brief first impression of him, middling height, not particularly handsome, a widows peak advancing into his hair, but his fine red coat hid wide shoulders, and the legs showed off by his white buckskins were muscular and thick. There was a peculiarly intent way that he looked over the room, as he entered, scanning every corner before he turned to smile with a pointed smirk at Caroline.
Elizabeth’s observation was interrupted by Mr. Darcy bowing to her. “Miss Elizabeth, I had not anticipated the pleasure of seeing you here today.”
His eyes.
What dark and intent eyes. Elizabeth’s color rose as she curtseyed to him. “Our intention had been to leave earlier.”
“I am sorry to hear it.”
“Oh, Charles,” Caroline exclaimed, but it was clear to Elizabeth that she was principally speaking towards Mr. Darcy. “Our poor Jane is sick with the flu! She fell ill during her visit. She insisted that she was well enough to take the carriage back to Longbourn, but I told her that was nonsense, and not to be borne! She must not think of moving, not at all until she is better. I’d do anything to care for her!”
Elizabeth did not provide permission to herself to smile.
She really was grateful to Caroline, and she knew that Caroline’s affection for Jane was as authentic as Elizabeth’s own affection for Charlie or Louisa. But her friend also hoped toappearall that was kind, accommodating, caring, and desirable in a woman before the object of her affections.
Charlie exclaimed with real concern, “Jane is here! And sick? Has the apothecary been called? How does she go on?” He looked up towards the ceiling, as though he could see through the fine wood paneling to the bedrooms above. “And in what room have you placed her? Is it warm enough — Mr. Morris told me that there is a hint of a draft in the west wing when I took the estate.”
“Calm, Charles.” Rolling her eyes affectionately, Caroline patted his shoulder. “She is in the east wing, the room is very comfortable, and with no draft, and Jane is resting. A maid is there with her to ensure the fire is kept up, and to bring her anything she needs. Don’t fret.”
Charlie actually wrung his hands together.
Thatwasn’tan invention of fever-brained novelists? Elizabeth had thought that no one in the harsh light of reality did that. Or at least, that it would only be women who would do so.
Colonel Fitzwilliam said to Caroline with a fine baritone, “Excellent display! You show every sort of caring for this friend. I admire a caring woman excessively.” Something in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s voice made that statement into a joke. “Now do tell: This Jane, is she particularly pretty?”
Caroline’s cheek twitched as she stared back at Colonel Fitzwilliam. Charlie also glared at Colonel Fitzwilliam, almost as though he was jealous of a man asking after Jane.
“A foolish question. Forget that I was ever so silly as to ask,” Colonel Fitzwilliam added, with a laughing look around the room. “Any girl taken sick is always pretty. But introduce me to your friend.”
“Oh, certainly,” Caroline said with considerably more enthusiasm. She looked at Elizabeth with that speaking look that desperately begged:Keep him from talking to me. “Eliza, Colonel Fitzwilliam, the son of the Earl of Matlock. Colonel Fitzwilliam, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the daughter of Mr. Bennet of Longbourn.”
“One of the famed Bennet sisters!” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied enthusiastically. “I had been given the impression that each of you were fine looking women, but now I perceive that report has failed reality.”
“And shealsohas a dowry of twenty thousand pounds,” Caroline added in a biting voice.
Colonel Fitzwilliam grabbed Miss Bingley’s hand and squeezed it. “My dear creature! To hear such information delights me. I am so rarely surrounded by such bounteous bounties of female fortune. I am a simple soldier, who is used to being surrounded by women who are only bounteous.” He smirked in a manner that made the comment wholly lewd, and yet failed to —quite— cross the bounds of propriety.
Elizabeth giggled, unable to stop herself.
Darcy said, “Really, Richard? We are amongst ladies, not your—”
“Soldiery companions? Simple man! Simple man! You know me to be a simple man! — but Miss Elizabeth, I apologize for not falling prone immediately before the charms of your person and fortune.”
“That presents no difficulty,” Elizabeth replied, amused despite herself, though shenowbegan to understand why he annoyed Caroline so much. “I am no demanding mistress, you have at least another three minutes to fall prone before me — though delay beyond that, and I may despise you forever.”
“Well then…” He studied at the rug, as though he were seriously considering sprawling on the ground to continue the joke.
“But Jane,” Bingley exclaimed. “Are you certain that she will be well? Poor girl! How can we have fun here, and speak so jocularly while she is ill. Would it not be better to immediately call a physician from London, just in case — I would far prefer to have wasted the fee than to have done less than everything for her.”
