“Well,MissBennet—”thedoctor straightened at last—“I believe your father shall make a good recovery in time.”
Elizabeth and Jane, standing side by side and clutching each other’s hands, shared a glance. “When do you think he will wake?” Elizabeth ventured first.
“Oh, quite soon, I should think. I do not think him comatose, but rather in a very deep sleep,” he explained. “That may sound discouraging, but after such an injury, it is well, as it will allow greater healing. My wife’s testimony confirms for me that he is mending, to be sure. I have bled him, but I fear doing it much more. I understand Jones has been tending to him? Yes, well, I expect he has been at it with those leeches of his again.”
The doctors spent well over an hour fussing over Mr Bennet, part of which time Jane and Elizabeth evacuated the room to respect their father’s privacy. It was apparent to the girls that the married couple had missed one another during their separation, which would continue some while longer as Mrs Cooper determined to stay on with Mr Bennet. They parted with a reluctance all too obvious to the lovelorn girls observing them.
After the two doctors had taken their leave, Jane whispered confidentially to Elizabeth, “Do you not think it will be a pleasant change from what we have known for us to miss our husbands when they are away?”
Elizabeth smiled privately. “Do you mean rather like Uncle and Aunt Gardiner? Yes, that will indeed be a pleasure. I should much prefer to regret my husband’s absence than to wish for it.”
“Exactly.” Jane suddenly glanced about herself. “Speaking of our aunt and uncle, where are they? I have not seen them since Mama left!”
Elizabeth hid a smirk. “I believe they are resting. Uncle must be very worn out from his journey, I should think.”
Jane simply stared in mute confusion. At last, a spark came to her face, and she blushed. “Oh.”
“So!Thisisyourbetrothed, Collins?”
Charlotte froze in bewilderment as an imperious woman with a hawk-like nose peered closely into her face. She’d had no inkling that her fiancé had returned, and even less that he could have brought with him the magnificent Lady Catherine de Bourgh of whom he was so enamoured. It seemed that during her brief sojourn, the pair had comfortably installed themselves at Lucas Lodge. The event was remarkable enough, but the presence of Caroline Bingley utterly befuddled her. What could have occasioned that association?
The grand lady drew back at last. “She seems a genteel sort of girl, Mr Collins. Not very pretty, but that is as it ought to be for the wife of a clergyman.”
Charlotte’s face burned. She knew very well that she was no great beauty, but no young lady enjoyed hearing her looks maligned before others. It galled her somewhat that not a single person present—including her parents, brothers, and her betrothed—thought to contradict or even look chagrined at the lady’s brash insult. Her eyes slid helplessly to Caroline Bingley, who looked quickly away, her half-lidded eyes admiring her immaculately buffed nails.
“Now, Miss Lucas, you will tell me what you know of this Elizabeth Bennet. She is your friend, I am to understand. Collins, I do have to doubt your young lady’s taste on that point. I do hope she can redeem my opinion of her good sense.”
Charlotte found herself seated and gazing back in mute wonder at the withered face. Lady Catherine, leaning forward upon a silver cane, seated herself opposite. Collins came to stand at the lady’s shoulder, a condescending smirk firmly plastered over his face. Charlotte drew a deep breath, bracing herself for a most unpleasant interview.
“Welcomehome,MrDarcy.”Drake dipped his head deferentially to his master while a footman took Darcy’s soiled greatcoat.
“Good afternoon, Drake. I trust all is well?” Darcy arched a knowing brow at his butler.
“Indeed, sir. It would be of note to mention that Lady Catherine called during your absence.”
“Yes, I heard as much. I trust she found the accommodations comfortable?” Darcy offered his trusted employee a sly upward turn of his lip.
“I am afraid Her Ladyship suffers somewhat from a depressed appetite, sir. You will be delighted to hear, of course, that Her Ladyship’s carriage is expected to be completed by this evening.”
Darcy pressed his lips into a thin almost-smile, but then stiffened somewhat, assuming his most regal air. “Is she in the drawing-room, then?” He began to turn toward that room.
“No, sir. She departed early this morning with Miss Bingley.”
Darcy spun. “What? Surely I must have heard you incorrectly.”
Drake shook his head. “Not at all, I am afraid, sir. Miss Bingley called late last evening, claiming to have been sent by you, yourself. Lady Catherine desired the use of the coach, and Miss Bingley obliged.”
Darcy stood in absolute shock for a moment, his mind reeling. His breath caught. Elizabeth was unprotected! He had only barely won her consent. If Lady Catherine bullied her into renouncing him… Dire thoughts rolled through his imagination, predicting woeful consequences for his relative.
He needed to get back to Hertfordshire! He had only just set foot into his own home and had anticipated a long delay before he would be able to wrap up the duties which had called him to London. Wickham had to be stopped, and that young lady brought to safety. There was no doubt of it, but the longer he tarried, the more volatile the situation in Meryton was about to become.
He viciously clamped down his frustration. It would never do to betray his feelings before his staff. Drake, who had known him since he was in short pants, discreetly held his peace while the young master deliberated another moment.
His clattering pulse began to slow a little as reason took over. Elizabeth was too headstrong and loyal to give him up at Lady Catherine’s pleasure. He could only hope her family would be equally so. He could not risk losing her! A daring move… yes, that was it. One that would risk her uncle’s displeasure, but he hoped he could obtain the amiable Mr Gardiner’s forgiveness.
Darcy met his butler’s gaze at last, a small twinkle in his eye. “Drake, please arrange for an announcement in the Times. I am to be married.”
Drake almost concealed his very unprofessional pleasure, but not quite. “Very good, sir.”
