Page 61 of Fortuitous Encounters

“Capital suggestion. Mrs Redgrave, if you would be so kind.”

They exited gallantly and got out of the mistress’ hearing before Elizabeth laughed, “Oh, you are a wicked-wicked man.”

“I shall neither confirm nor deny at this time.”

“What say you, Mrs Redgrave?”

“I shall go along with Mr Darcy’s dithering, if you do not mind.”

Elizabeth returned to Darcy. “Perhaps I might aid your disclosure by mentioning that evil is one of your better traits.”

He chuckled heartily. “In that case, I shall plead guilty, my lady.”

Mrs Redgrave walked quickly ahead chuckling, and she could not have been more obvious if she held her hands over her ears.

“That sounds just the least bit flirtatious, sir.”

“Have you any objections?” he asked, seriously.

“Of course not. We are friends, are we not?”

“That we are, Miss Lizzy! That we are. Be certain to ask if I can be of any aid to you or your sister.”

“I will.”

With a smile and informal curtsy, she joined Mrs Redgrave in entering Jane’s room to see just how badly her mother had harmed her elder sister’s health, thinking she would worry about how much she harmed her prospects later.

The Improvement of His Mind

Darcy thought that, aside from Miss Bennet’s suffering, things were working out better than he could have hoped. He subtly hinted to Mr Jones that it might be better for a lady to recuperate in the home of a rich man than that of a middling one. The apothecary had, in his own subtle way, suggested that as far as the mistress of the house was concerned, there was hardly any difference between Netherfield and Longbourn, so she may as well recuperate at Netherfield as not.

It had taken little effort to convince Miss Bingley that the onerous duty of care of a sick woman should by rights fall to her family, and not the mistress of the house who had not known her a month earlier. Having Miss Elizabeth stay at Netherfield not only satisfied propriety, but also relieved her of a potentially annoying task, not to mention the chance of catching the cold herself. Miss Bingley likely supposed that left her free to pursue him at her leisure, but her incorrect assumptions were not his problem.

It was therefore a matter of satisfaction when Miss Elizabeth came down to dinner at half-past six.

“Miss Elizabeth, how fares your sister?” Bingley asked anxiously.

“She is tolerable, sir. Her fever is slightly higher, but not alarming. It is as one would expect at this stage.”

“Is there aught I can do to improve her condition?”

Darcy thought his friend sounded a touch on the desperate side but supposed he might feel the same if Miss Elizabeth were the sick one.

“We have all we need. Your sisters had a lovely visit, and Jane is sleeping now. They very kindly assured me of any support I might require.”

Darcy did not want to spend the rest of the evening discussing Miss Bennet’s illness (not to mention the odds of the offer of support being genuine or not), so he asked, “Have you been able to take any rest?”

“I have, sir. Mrs Redgrave spelled me several times today.”

They both knew that she could perfectly well have gone back to Longbourn and Miss Bennet would have been fine under the housekeeper and Mrs Redgrave’s care, but where was the fun in that?

Dinner was served and Darcy offered his arm to Miss Elizabeth with alacrity before Miss Bingley could latch on. He had not started being rude to the woman yet, but he strongly suspected the time to do so was not all that far away. For the moment, he just wanted to extend the first relaxing house party of his life as long as he could before the inevitable disagreeableness began.

The party reached the dining room, and to exactly nobody’s surprise, Miss Elizabeth was relegated to the hinterlands next to Hurst, who would ask her whether she liked a plain dish or a ragout, and ignore her thereafter regardless of her answer. The man was not exactly the pick of the litter conversationally, and that was the only gambit he still remembered from the days before his ill-advised marriage to Mrs Hurst.

Fortunately, such a problem was not much of a challenge for an Oxford man.

Darcy asked sneakily, “Hurst, I am certain you will not mind switching with me so I can finish my argument with Miss Elizabeth.”