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Chapter 12
Elizabeth looked from a perplexed Bingley to Darcy, who was completely paralyzed with mortification. Bingley’s face was growing more furious by the second. Turning bright red, Elizabeth hid her face in her hands.
They stood frozen in a tableau for what seemed an eternity to Darcy. Bingley was the first to recover. “Darcy, might I see you in my study? Miss Elizabeth, Jane was hoping you might know of something that might alleviate the pain in her ankle. Can you go to her?”
Her face still buried in her hands, Elizabeth whispered a muffled, “yes.” Darcy followed Bingley out of the room, trying not to feel like a schoolboy who was about to be paddled.
Bingley stalked down the hallway in complete silence. As they entered the study, Darcy tried a preemptive explanation. “Bingley, you do not – “
But Bingley’s low, level voice forestalled him. “How could you? She is under my roof! Under my protection!” Darcy thought he had never seen his ordinarily placid friend so furious. Bingley threw himself into the desk chair and glared at his friend. “What am I going to tell her father? What am I going to tell Jane? Good Lord!” He slapped the arm of the chair in frustration. “Damn, Darcy, I never thought you would do something like this!”
Bingley finally fell silent, frowning fiercely as Darcy sank into the facing chair.
“I am sorry this has caused you consternation—” Darcy began. Bingley made an angry gesture as if to respond, but Darcy forestalled him. “Damnation! Will you listen to me? We are married. Elizabeth and I are married.”
Bingley sat up so quickly that his arm inadvertently knocked some papers off his desk, but he spared them no notice. “Married?” He said incredulously.
Darcy nodded. “In France.”
“France?” Bingley echoed in a stunned tone. “You mean all this time you have been – ? Darcy merely nodded again, giving his friend time to assimilate the news. The other man was shaking his head in amazement. Darcy explained the circumstances of their marriage and why they had concealed it.
“I had been hoping I could produce Lydia and Wickham – preferably married – before explaining to Mr. Bennet that we married without his knowledge or consent,” Darcy finished up. “But we may not be able to wait much longer.”
“You are in +a deucedly awkward position.” Bingley shook his head slowly in sympathy. Then he laughed unexpectedly. “No wonder you were so certain she had not accepted an offer of marriage from Fenton!”
Darcy chuckled. “Yes, that was one thing I could be sure of in this whole situation.”
Bingley poured brandy for them both. “You are married,” Bingley shook his head in disbelief. “Before you left for Paris I did not even know you held any special regard for Elizabeth. Now I find you have beaten me to the altar.”
Darcy nodded knowingly. “Yes, I can hardly believe it myself.”
After the men left her room, Elizabeth took several breaths to recover her composure and remind herself that she and Darcy had done nothing wrong. She might feel like a misbehaving schoolgirl, but she was a married woman who was entitled to spend the night with her husband.
Feeling a little better, she climbed out of bed and donned her robe. She walked down the hall to Jane’s room, knocked lightly on the door, and then pushed it open. Jane was sitting up in bed, her head and shoulders propped on some pillows and her swollen ankle resting on another one. Although Jane’s face showed some strain and exhaustion, she did not seem to be in overwhelming pain. She put aside the book she was reading and regarded Elizabeth with chagrin.
“I am sorry, Lizzy,” her beautiful face was anxious. “I did not wish to disturb your sleep, but Charles was beside himself. He had left a maid to watch over me. Then he could not sleep, so he came to discover how I fared and she told him I was in pain. He wanted so much to be of use to me! So I told him that sometimes you made a poultice that eased Papa’s rheumatism. He insisted on rousing you to make it for me. But if you would rather sleep, you may do it in the morning.”
Elizabeth had to smile at this rather long, self-effacing speech. “Truly, I want to be of any comfort I can. I will make the poultice if that will help.”
“It does not hurt so very much, but I am having trouble sleeping. Perhaps if you could read to me a little, that would help.”
Elizabeth pulled a chair to her sister’s bedside and took her hand. “I will do whatever you desire. But first I believe I must tell you something.” As she had walked down the hall, Elizabeth had wondered about Darcy’s conversation with Bingley and realized that in all likelihood, Darcy would reveal the truth about their marriage. Elizabeth felt it only fair to divulge the same to Jane. Indeed, she had found it quite painful to conceal the truth from her closest sister. Although she felt an obligation to tell her father, she felt the most desire to confide in Jane and receive sisterly advice.
“What is that?” Jane’s eyes were wide and curious.
“I think I can help you forget about the pain in your ankle – at least for a little while,” Elizabeth smiled at her sister. “I wanted to tell you – That is – I – We—” Elizabeth stopped and took a breath. This was more difficult than she had anticipated, perhaps because she was anxious about Jane’s reaction. Then she realized that Jane’s face was furrowed with concern. “It is nothing bad,” she assured her sister. She took a deep breath and said the rest in a rush. “Mr. Darcy and I are married. We were married in France.”
Jane’s hands flew to her mouth as her jaw dropped open. She was struck dumb with surprise.
“I hope you are not too shocked,” Elizabeth went on. “But after I recovered from the illness, I felt that I did not want to wait….”
Jane nodded. “I remember that Mr. Darcy said you almost died,” she whispered.
“Yes. I – We – decided to become engaged and we knew it would be easier to travel if we were married, so—” Elizabeth’s words were halting as she gazed at Jane’s face. If Jane did not understand, she had little hope of explaining her actions to the rest of her family.
“I understand,” Jane said gently, patting Elizabeth’s hand. “It makes complete sense.”
Elizabeth felt tears prick her eyes. “You are too good to me. Not one word of reproach for marrying without you or for concealing the truth all this time?”
