Miss Bingley had sidled up to him from behind and was whispering sarcastic remarks in his ear. He quickly disabused her of any uncharitable notions rather than participate in the mockery.Herbehaviour would not withstand a strict examination, as Miss Elizabeth so cleverly had pointed out. But neither would his… He considered whether he should apprise Miss Bingley of the Bennets’ impending elevation of rank but decided against it. She might cause a scene, or worse, fawn entirely too much at the feet of the marquis.
It was not intentionally that he kept close to Miss Elizabeth for the rest of the evening. It was entirely by chance and due to circumstances not under his control. If only he had stayed at Netherfield, he would not have overheard her telling her grandmother how much she disliked him. “From the first moment, Mr Darcy impressed me to fully believe he was arrogant, conceited, and disdainful of the feelings of others.”
Nor her grandmother replying, “Well, he is nothing to us. I shall introduce you to every eligible gentleman in town, once we remove thither after Christmas. Regardless ofthatgentleman’s opinion, I am certain we shall find dozens of others who will deem you very pretty indeed.”
#
A footman entered Longbourn’s breakfast parlour with a note for Miss Bennet. Jane unfolded the letter and gasped in delight.
“Quickly, whom is it from? What is it about?” Mrs Bennet enquired, earning a scowl from her mother by marriage.
“It is from Miss Bingley. She has invited me to dine with her and her sister. The gentlemen are to dine with the officers—”
“Dining out? How inconvenient!”
“May I have the carriage?”
“No, my dear, you certainly may not. The horses are needed in the fields. You must go on Nellie. It looks like it is going to rain, and then you will have to stay the night!” Mrs Bennet beamed with a delight that was soon crushed by Longbourn’s previous mistress.
“Sineadwill do no such thing. What a preposterous notion! She may use my carriage, andEilíswill go with her. You cannot support the scheme of sending our darling girl into that vipers’ nest without the protection of a sister.”
“We arenotin Ireland, and I beg you to use my daughters’ Christian names!” Mrs Bennet admonished her mother, who seemed quite inured to any reproofs. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin and smiled enigmatically.
A couple of hours later, Elizabeth and Jane entered the Marquis of Limerick’s barouche and set out. The short journey was completed in minutes, and they turned into the drive to Netherfield.
A shriek pierced the air, followed by heavy trampling, a crack, and a blood-curdling scream. Elizabeth rapped her fan three times on the carriage roof and brought it to a screeching halt. The sisters tumbled out of the door before the accompanying footman could fold down the steps and hurried towards the howls of agony that gradually lessened to a man’s groans of pain. The scene they encountered would have been humorous, had it not been so dire.
Mr Bingley sat red faced astride a fence, and they could only surmise that the dust cloud moving across the field was his horse. The gentleman tried to climb down, but his legs were too short. He tilted precariously, then toppled to the ground head first, where he curled up into a ball whilst clutching a certain unmentionable part of his body. The other two gentlemen of hisparty flinched in sympathy. Mr Darcy dismounted and spoke to the prostrate young man, but his moaning reply was inaudible.
Jane was at Mr Bingley’s side in an instant and crouched to whisper sweet comforting words.
“How did the, um, the unfortunate accident happen? You were behind me, so I did not see it.” Mr Darcy spoke in a low, soothing voice.
“Bingley and I were racing when a rabbit startled my horse. It reared but I kept my seat,” Mr Hurst boasted. “But, unfortunately, my whip poked Bingley’s horse in the eye. The beast wrenched away and ran straight for the fence. My brother did ever so well, holding on to the bucking steed, but then the horse decided to jump. The stirrup snapped in mid-air, and he lost his balance and landed as you found him, rather uncomfortably astride the fence.”
“He must be in a lot of pain.” Jane shook her head and grimaced at the groaning Mr Bingley. “We must move him to the comfort of the house, or he will certainly catch a chill on the cold, wet ground.”
“We can use our carriage—it is close by—and someone must send for Mr Jones, the apothecary,” Elizabeth suggested.
The gentlemen carried the injured man between them and loaded him into the barouche.
“I shall fetch the apothecary,” Mr Hurst offered. “It is the least I can do…”
“I shall ride ahead and notify Miss Bingley of her brother’s injury. Preparations should be made to receive him.” Mr Darcy mounted his horse whilst muttering something about ice, then rode off.
Elizabeth and Jane entered the carriage with the injured gentleman and ordered the driver to convey them smoothly to Netherfield. Elizabeth was surprised when Mr Darcy did not meet them upon their arrival but left it to the footmen to carry their employer inside. However, the reason revealed itself in the entrance hall, where Mr Darcy was busy fanning a prostrate Miss Bingley.
“Mrs Hurst, would you please attend your sister now that Bingley has arrived?” he pleaded.
“What canIdo? You must carry her into the parlour.”
Mr Darcy scowled at Mrs Hurst. Miss Bingley was squeezing her eyes shut in an obvious attempt to retain her faint, and Elizabeth felt her ire rise. There was some nefarious scheme afoot, and she was of a mind to thwart the endeavour. She hastened to Miss Bingley’s side and positioned herself behind her. There, she slid her hands under the lady’s arms and lifted her from the floor. She and her sisters had been obliged to carry their mother on occasion, when her nervous disposition caused her to faint, and knew how it should be done. The footmen need not be disturbed from their task of carrying Mr Bingley, and Mr Darcy, despite his questionable character, deserved to be spared from allegations of ruining the reputation of a cunning female.
“Jane, would you be so kind as to grab her legs?”
“I cannot. Mr Bingley is clutching my hand too firmly.”
“Let me help you, Miss Elizabeth.”
