Page 103 of The Widower of Pemberley

As soon as they started up the drive, the crowd of Elizabeth’s family came out into the cold to greet them, and as soon as the door was opened by the footman, Elizabeth leapt from the carriage without waiting for Darcy to help her.

“Papa! Papa!”

She threw her arms around her father, who stood with a thick cane and a bright smile.

“There, there, dear girl. I told you I would not die.”

“Oh, Papa! You know you cannot make promises like that.”

Mr. Bennet laughed.

He shook hands with Darcy and Georgiana while Emily returned to her shy ways, hiding behind Elizabeth’s skirts.

Elizabeth’s father looked like an odd mix of weakness and good health. He was well on his way to being a thin man, when before he had been plump. It seemed to be a vigorous thinness, though, and not the unhealthiness of a final illness.

His colour was good; his smile was bright. He walked quickly but with a leg that dragged behind him, and the use of the cane to support himself was clearly necessary for any speed, but with its help he appeared quite spry.

“Do not fret about my loss of fat,” Mr. Bennet said when Elizabeth asked about how thin he was. “A reducing diet. Dreadfully dull, but I would rather be able to keep reading books for a few years more than eating roast joints every evening for a few months. I have kept myself a little hungry nearly every day since you left. I have also taken to walking even more than you do. At least two hours every day, by the clock. I feel quite good, except the deuced arm and leg refuse to improve any further. I may always need the cane.”

“You look resigned to it,” Elizabeth said.

“I was blessed. The outcome could have been far worse.”

Mrs. Bennet moaned. “Doctor Cliff still says that he might have another attack any day and that it could take him off in an instant. Why did the doctor not just tell me that it was impossible?”

“Because that would not have been true,” Elizabeth said a little tartly.

“I am happy that you are back,” Jane said to Elizabeth, fiercely hugging her sister.

“And you will come with us to London? You promised that you would. And then to visit Pemberley in the summer, for at least a few months?”

“Certainly London,” Jane said. “There is nowhere that I would like to be more. But as for Pemberley…we shall see.”

“We shall see?” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I dearly hope to have you. And Papa—you look well enough to travel.”

“I dare say I am. But if I am to go to Pemberley, I mean to walk the whole way. That wouldat lastimpress Cliff with my dedication to the course of exercise he has set for me.”

Mr. Bennet said this in a grand manner that Darcythoughtwas a joke.

It was a happy party.

Georgiana and Elizabeth’s sister Mary sat together to play the pianoforte as soon as they entered the drawing room; Lydia and Kitty asked Darcy whetherhecould throw a ball at Netherfield since it had been at least a month since Bingley had held one.

“Not being my own house,” Darcy said, “I must decline the suggestion. I am still a guest, even if the master is absent.”

“La! That would be such a joke,” Lydia replied.

“And yet, I still shall not do it.”

“That is so dull of you!” Lydia replied. “And why are you taking Jane to London when I could have so much more fun?”

“No.” Mr. Bennet looked up from a conversation with Emily, who had overcome her shyness and was eagerly talking to him. “No grand society until you are at least seventeen.”

“I shall never marry before the rest of my sisters if you are like that.”

“I do notwantyou to marry before them—yes, Miss Emily, we certainly will play draughts with your father again. I dare say he will lose admirably with your advice.”

Emily giggled. “Hurrah! I like it when he loses.”