When he departed, at the same time the rain began, Elizabeth had shot her father a look of disapprobation. It was nothing her father had ever before seen from his supposed favourite daughter and he had the decency to look ashamed.
Both Mama and Papa were well aware Jane was susceptible to colds and chills. When the rain had begun, Jane—especially with the pace Nellie managed—could not yet have been even halfway to Netherfield Park. Her poor sister would be soaked to the bone all in the name of catching a husband.
What worth would there be in her mother’s machinations if Jane got sick, or even worse happened to her? Elizabeth would not, could not, allow herself to contemplate what the possibleworsecould be.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
At the dinner given by Colonel Forster and his officers, Darcy had the misfortune of being seated next to the father of the woman who inhabited his dreams. It was not only at night when she occupied his thoughts, he thought about the pert Miss Elizabeth anytime his mind was not engaged in something productive.
As much as his head was telling his heart not to, as she was wholly inappropriate for Darcy of Pemberley to marry, his heart ignored the messages his head had been sending. He was well on his way to being in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Once the introductions were made, Bennet realised he was sitting next to the insulter of his favourite daughter. He was theproud, disagreeableman, as his wife termed Mr. Darcy, and the insufferably arrogant man to hear Lizzy’s opinion.
Bennet discounted his wife’s ramblings, but after hearing Lizzy’s account of the slight the man had delivered at the assembly, he had arrived at the conclusion in this case his wife was correct in her assessment of the man.
“I trust it istolerableto be seated next to me, unless of course you feel you will give me too muchconsequencein my own neighbourhood,” Bennet stated after the introductions were made.
Darcy was mortified to be reminded once again of his false words at the assembly. He had just met Mr. Bennet and he could see it was from her father that Miss Elizabeth inherited her dry wit. “Mr. Bennet, please accept my apology for the words…” Darcy’s voice died in his mouth as the man next to him raised his hand.
“I was not the one you insulted so it is not me to whom you need to make your amends,” Bennet drawled. “All I will say is what you said, and my opinion would be the same had you said that about one who was not my favourite daughter, was beyond the bounds of gentlemanlike behaviour.”
“And that is the reason I wanted to apologise to you, Sir,” Darcy clarified. “It is not a substitute for what I owe your daughter, but as her father, I feel I need to beg your pardon for my abhorrent behaviour towards one under your protection. That I was in a bad mood and concerned for a family member in no way mitigates my actions.”
“On that basis, I accept your apology; please call me Bennet.”
“I am Darcy,” he said as he inclined his head in thanks to Bennet.
While Bennet sat and ate he could hear the rain beating on the windows of the room they were in, the same rain he had seen and heard during his carriage ride to the inn. It was not only Lizzy’s look of disappointment; he was feeling genuine remorse he had not stepped in and stopped Jane from riding Nellie to Netherfield Park.
At the very least, he could have told Jane she could ride with him, and sent her on to Netherfield Park with instructions to return to collect him in a few hours. Was the peace he was purchasing by acquiescing to his wife’s whims really worth it? Bennet knew well that out of all of his daughters, Jane was the most apt to get sick. If she became ill because of being drenched, he would not feel good about that at all. A serious illness would cause his conscience to scream at him. All he could do was pray Jane was well.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The next morning a note arrived from Jane. It was addressed to Elizabeth and thanks to her mother’s not rising before ten in the morning, it was delivered into the intended recipient’s hands and not intercepted by Fanny Bennet.
20 November 1810
Lizzy dearest,
I wanted to make sure you were not too worried for me. I have a trifling cold and the sniffles. Unfortunately, I did have a fever last night, but it was not bad.
Elizabeth was adept at translatingJane speak. What Jane was actually saying was she had a bad cold, was coughing and sneezing very much, and had a high fever. She admired her older sister’s desire to not be a bother, but she saw no value in downplaying how ill her dearest Janey really was.
She hoped her mother would be proud of the result of her machinations and her father would feel remorse over his having quit the field without asserting his authority to correct the situation before it occurred.
Who was she fooling? Her mother would see nothing wrong in her actions and Papa would make a joke of the situation to assuage his conscience. Things would never change at Longbourn. Elizabeth returned to her sister’s short missive.
Please inform our parents and would you pack a valise for me so I have some of my own clothes here my best friend and sister? All I have is the night rail which Miss Bingley kindly lent me yester-evening.
Before I took ill, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley took much interest in me, our family, and our connections. They are being most solicitous of me and spent at least a half hour sitting with me before a maid took over yester-evening.
In other words, the supercilious sisters—who Elizabeth knew were the daughters of a tradesman—had grilled her dearest sister, even while Elizabeth was sure Jane was already exhibiting signs of illness. Based on what she had observed about how they—especially Miss Bingley—held themselves to be vastly superior to those who by birth were in fact higher than themselves, she was convinced they would disdain the Bennets’ extended family who were in trade.
If you happen to be close to Netherfield Park on one of your rambles, I would love to see you sister dearest.
In other words: please come and spend time with me because no one else will care for me the way you will.
With much sisterly affection,
