Bingley shook his head. There was no making sense of the man’s ramblings. “Good night, Darcy. I will send Wilson in to look after you.” He threw the counterpane over his old friend, still fully dressed, and took himself to bed.
Chapter 7
Elizabethrosestifflyaftera miserable night’s sleep, or rather lack thereof. She could not cease her restless anger or her stunned musings. She and Jane had talked deep into the night, but Elizabeth was still no nearer forgetting Mr Collins or forgiving Mr Darcy.
Dragging her dressing gown over her nightclothes, she crept down the hall to her father’s room, rousing Mrs Cooper, who had been dozing comfortably. “Has he shown any signs of waking?” she whispered.
Mrs Cooper shook her head. “Nay, Miss, but it’s still early. Let the body have time to heal.”
Elizabeth sagged with disappointment. “I know. Hewillwake, though, will he not?” Her eyes implored the older woman to answer in the affirmative, but Mrs Cooper was too experienced to make an attempt at false hope.
“I cannot say, my dear,” she placed a motherly hand on Elizabeth’s. “We can only do so much. He has everything in his favour, and we can find no other injuries. Cheer up, love,” she smiled in encouragement. “I’ve seen it happen, and more than once.”
Elizabeth sighed and nodded dejectedly. The pair sat in silence for some time. At length, she offered to dress then return to allow Mrs Cooper a break, intending to sit with her father through the morning. One by one, as the morning began to ripen, her mother and two oldest sisters came to pay their respects.
Jane’s deep compassion and care were welcome to Elizabeth, as was the offer of a hot cup of coffee and a scone. Less welcome were Mary’s practical observations and her pointed assumption that Elizabeth’s prudent engagement to Mr Darcy alleviated their worry of homelessness, in case their father should not improve.
Entirely disagreeable was her mother’s visit. Elizabeth’s nerves grated raw, but there was little she could do to silence Mrs Bennet’s excited planning. “Lizzy, do find out what Mr Darcy’s favourite meal is. I intend to serve it tomorrow. I invited Mr Bingley to dinner tomorrow, you know, and he promised to bring your Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth grunted inarticulately. What did she care what the man liked to eat? “One of Hill’s ragouts will surely suffice, Mama,” she fibbed at last. Truthfully, she had already observed at Netherfield he preferred plain dishes as she did, but she had no intention of dangling that morsel of information before her ravenous mother.
“Oh, and Lizzy, you must see what you can do to encourage Mr Bingley to offer for Jane! He so clearly admires her, and he must be very shy, I think, not to have said something yesterday when there was so much talk of marriage! It is only a matter of time, you know, but you must do what you can to help her secure him! After all, your dearest father may not wake, and that horrid Mr Collins may turn us out before he is cold in his grave!”
“Oh, Mama,” ashamed, Elizabeth buried her face in her palm. “Papa will be fine, Mama. Only give him time to recover. Please do not go on so. It is most unseemly!”
“Oh, you do not think what I must suffer, you careless girl! But Lizzy, you were so clever to ensnare Mr Darcy! Oh, how sly you are! How very fine you will be! Only think, a house in Town, everything charming! We need have no fear now, do we? Let that horrible man do his worst!” she giggled confidently.
Elizabeth wryly noted that Mr Collins had suddenly fallen out of Mrs Bennet’s favour as quickly as he had found it. And this the man her mother would have had her marry only yesterday! Disgusted, she adopted the tactic of silence to put off further conversation. She returned deliberately to her book. Mrs Bennet, rather than taking the pointed hint, soon grew bored with her silent daughter. She bustled off in search of more willing listeners.
Mr Collins’ imperious tones drifted through the half-closed door. Elizabeth tucked herself more firmly into the corner near her father’s bed while she eavesdropped on his affronted monologue—directed at anyone within earshot. He loudly announced his intentions to return to Lucas Lodge for the whole of the day, where he had been the entire afternoon previous.Good riddance,she thought spitefully.One less overbearing man to deal with today.
That still left Mr Darcy, who would be publicly expected to call at some point if he had a shred of decency about him. Elizabeth testily resolved to spend the entire day in her father’s room. Let him come find her if he dared!
Bingleywokeathisusual time but lingered above stairs as long as he felt he was able. He did not relish facing Caroline or Louisa this morning. He had asked to be kept apprised of Darcy’s activities, and so far yet this morning, the man snored in a dazed stupor.
Through delicately veiled comments, Darcy’s valet suggested that his master had been sick a good part of the night. Bingley was only surprised it had not occurred while he had been yet in the room. His old friend had downed a considerable amount of alcohol. With some relief, he had been able to discover that Darcy had begun on the bottle that had been nearly empty, but still, to consume that quantity of stout drink and then make as much headway as the man had on the second bottle was quite incredible. That had been a particularly strong—and expensive—vintage. It would be a wonder if Darcy were not still entirely drunk.
Eventually, Bingley resigned himself to face the onslaught and made his reluctant way downstairs. He expected a repeat of the prior night’s scene. Instead, he found the breakfast room curiously quiet. Only Hurst was there, and his brother barely spared time for a greeting before returning to his meal.
Bingley thanked the maid who brought him his paper and sat down to his breakfast. Louisa joined them a few moments later. Her silent pout told him that she had not yet given up the scheme of departing for London immediately. He sighed inwardly. He really did have business that needed his attention. He had sent a letter delaying his attorney’s appointment, but he would need to go to town soon, unless his man could come to him instead. He felt that before he could go anywhere, he needed to see how things developed with Mr Bennet... and with Darcy and Miss Elizabeth.
A fresh idea came to him. No harm in helping the situation along a little! Calling for his butler, he scribbled a quick note to the Bennet family. He asked after Mr Bennet and then requested permission to call later in the day. One way or another, he would have to make sure Darcy went with him, and it would be some while yet before he could be made presentable. Giving the note back to his butler, he asked that it be delivered at once and a reply requested.
He turned his attention back to his meal and ate the rest undisturbed. Quietly he retreated to his study, more to escape Louisa’s sulking demeanour than to do any real work. Unlike Darcy, Bingley was perfectly satisfied to remain idle for a time when had little to do. He contented himself by toying with the fire and daydreaming of Jane Bennet’s beautiful blue eyes.
His reverie was disturbed when his valet burst through the door, thoroughly flustered. Concerned, Bingley ignored his man’s breach of protocol. “Is something the matter with Darcy?” he started from his position. The gentlemen’s pair of valets were thick as thieves, a fact for which Bingley was most grateful.
“Yes, sir. It seems Miss Bingley had been waiting for him to come down to breakfast, and she is losing patience. She is demanding entrance to Mr Darcy’s rooms! Mr Wilson asks if you can come.”
“What? Good heavens!” Bingley fairly ran upstairs. He found Caroline loudly berating Wilson, calling him any number of unflattering names. Wilson stood embarrassed but resolute, guarding his master’s door with his hands locked behind his back on the latch.
“Caroline! What is the meaning of this!” With a nod, he dismissed Darcy’s valet. The poor fellow gratefully escaped back into his master’s room. Wishing to defuse the scene his sister was causing, he gripped her elbow, dragged her back into her own room and slammed the door.
“Charles! Let go! Ouch! How dare you abuse your own sister in this way! Unhand me!” Caroline ripped her arm out of his grasp. Brother and sister stood toe to toe, fuming.
“Caroline, what were you thinking, setting up such a fuss outside Mr Darcy’s door? Demanding to enter his rooms? I am appalled! Do you know what the servants will be saying?”
Caroline straightened herself, assuming a serene dignity. “Charles, how you do go on. You know very well I would not engage in such vulgar behaviour! I only wished to tend to him! His valet said he was quite ill this morning, and I know he would wish for me to care for him in his indisposition. It is my duty, as your hostess, to see to our guests!” She sniffed, turning her face away.
