After a dull evening in which only Elizabeth seemed to be content to sit with a book, which she soon discovered held the missing gentleman’s bookplate, they all retired for the night. Jane was asleep when she checked; so, unwilling to disturb her, Elizabeth went to her own room.
Elizabeth had been given the room next to Jane’s and left the doors to both rooms open in case Jane needed her during the night. A little after midnight, she was awakened by the sounds of a carriage outside and voices and running feet in the hall below. The same noises had obviously awakened Jane, for Elizabeth heard her name being called.
Swiftly, she wrapped a shawl about her shoulders and tiptoed to the door of her room. She could see the light of candles in the hall and hesitated in case someone should come upstairs.
The voice of Captain Darcy rang clearly up the stairs. “I am so very sorry, Bingley, but I could think of nowhere else to go. If we can but rest here for a few days, I shall arrange to rent a place I can take them to.”
Mr Bingley replied with all the gruffness of an English gentleman caught in the act of being generous, “Think nothing of it, my dear fellow. Mrs Needham is making up the rooms now. Come into the library; there is a fire in there, and tea will be along in two shakes.”
As Elizabeth scurried into Jane’s room, she heard Mr Bingley exclaim, “Oh, what a truly damnable business!”
Jane had an uncomfortable night and did not truly fall asleep until almost dawn. As Elizabeth left her sister, she could hear the house beginning to stir. Despite her restless night, she wasdetermined to come down for breakfast, for it would never do to give the impression that the Bennets were lie-a-beds.
She need not have worried as only the gentlemen were present when she arrived. Mr Bingley was quick to enquire after her sister, and even Captain Darcy managed a few civil words. He seemed unaffected by a disturbed night, and Elizabeth reflected that a captain at sea must be accustomed to a lack of rest.
She had almost finished her repast when Miss Bingley swept in, bearing the unmistakable signs of someone not used to early mornings and doing her best to hide the fact. Watching her greet her brother, and especially the captain, Elizabeth realised that Miss Bingley knew someone had arrived in the night but had not yet been informed who it was, and she was consumed by a curiosity it would have been most ill-bred to display. She had just begun with, “Charles, I understand—” when there was an almighty crash of broken china from somewhere close that quite drowned what she was about to say.
In the dead silence that followed the crash, Elizabeth heard the sound of running feet and a boy crying out, “I am sorry, Mrs Needham—I am, I am. It just sort of slipped.” She could not hear the reply, and the voices disappeared downstairs as someone came to sweep up the broken pieces.
“Really, Charles! How many times have I told you? We have to get rid of the boy before he breaks every piece of china we have!”
Mr Bingley looked self-conscious. “Caroline, I told you. I promised Reverend Carter to find a place for the boy so he would not have to go on the parish, poor lad, and he is perfectly willing—just clumsy.” He turned to Elizabeth. “I appeal to you, Miss Elizabeth: What would you do?”
Elizabeth hesitated, unwilling to interfere with another woman’s housekeeping, but the look of indignation on MissBingley’s face spurred her to reply. “Well, if it were up to me, I would put the boy to work in the stables. Is it the youngest Dalton, by the way? I know there were five children to place when the parents died. If it is, Mr Dalton was our local farrier, so the boy is used to horses. If you still need someone in the house, Mrs Needham is a local woman. She is sure to know of a lad who would suit.”
Mr Bingley sat back in his chair and blew out his cheeks with relief. “Bravo, Miss Elizabeth. All our problems solved in one go. A Solomon come to judgment indeed.”
Miss Bingley appeared about to expostulate when a maid entered, curtseyed to the captain, and said, “Excuse me, sir, but the young lady was asking after you.” The gentleman quickly rose, tossed his napkin on the table, and with a bow to the ladies, left the room. After a few seconds, Elizabeth followed suit, realising that Miss Bingley was about to start an argument with her brother that she had no wish to witness.
Upstairs, she found Jane still asleep, so she left her to return to her own room. However, as she stepped into the corridor, she discovered Captain Darcy waiting for her. He bowed, appeared uncomfortable, and then said, “If you have a moment, Miss Elizabeth, may I ask for your assistance with my sister?” He looked at the carpet, at the wallpaper, and then at Elizabeth. He was not wearing the green spectacles, and for the first time, she saw that his eyes were an attractive deep brown. “I brought my sister and her mother with me last night. My sister is unwell but is understandably unwilling to discuss what is wrong with an elder brother she has not seen for over five years. I would ask Mrs Darcy, but she had a very disturbed night and is still sleeping.” For the first time, he looked tired but ploughed on. “Am I asking too much if I request you to see whether there is anything to be done? She is very shy, but since you have younger sisters, I feel sure you are the best person in the house to help. Ishall, of course, wake her mother if need be, but I would prefer not to if it can be avoided.”
Elizabeth professed her complete willingness and waited while he knocked on his sister’s door. “May I come in, sweetheart?” he said gently. Captain Darcy must have taken the confused murmur from inside as assent because he waved Elizabeth to enter with him.
There was a maid in the room and a fair young lady in the bed. At first Elizabeth took her for perhaps seventeen or eighteen years of age but soon realised that she was rather younger, for all her womanly form and features.
“Dear, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he said. “She is staying at Netherfield with her sister, and I thought it might be easier for you to talk to her than to your old sea-dog of a brother. Miss Elizabeth, my sister Georgiana.” Elizabeth curtseyed and did her best to appear all that was amiable and helpful. “I shall be off now, but if you need me at all, you know you must send for me immediately.”
The pale face in the bed smiled and said timidly, “Aye, aye, Captain.” Elizabeth watched as Captain Darcy’s lips compressed and he looked away, obviously deeply affected, then he strode over to the bed, kissed his sister on the forehead, and left the room.
Left alone, Elizabeth went over to the bed. With a smile and a ‘do you mind?’ she sat on the counterpane and took the young lady’s hand in hers. “Now, what is it I can do to help, my dear?” she said.
It took a great deal of blushing and stammering before Elizabeth gathered that it was nothing more than a case of a very shy young lady in a strange house with very little baggage, who had been surprised by the early arrival of her courses before she had made provision for the usual rags. Turning to the maid, Elizabeth dealt with the immediate problem, ordered a littlebreakfast for Miss Darcy, and set her mind to putting that young lady at something approaching her ease.
She soon realised that Miss Darcy, or Georgiana as she was soon invited to call her, was for some reason unwilling to talk about her home or the reason for the visit on which she had just embarked. However, she was more than happy to talk about the brother who had just left, even if she would not talk about the one she had left behind in Derbyshire.
As far as Georgiana was concerned, Captain Darcy was all that was kind and generous. “For we had a post-chaise all the way and stopped three times at various inns. He would not let us pay for anything even though I had my pin money and Mama had several guineas in her purse. Maids to see to us, the best of everything—he even got me a new—” here she blushed—“nightgown when my old one fell out of my bag while it was being loaded at Stamford.”
Elizabeth was beginning to wonder whether she should be hearing these artless confessions. It was surely very odd that a young lady from such a wealthy family should be so unused to those attentions that even families like her uncle Gardiner’s expected as no more than their due whenever they travelled.
The breakfast arrived, and Elizabeth took the chance to leave and reassure the captain, whom she found loitering in the hallway for her. In a few brief words, she did her best to make such explanations as she thought fit for him to hear and was pleased by his evident comprehension and gratitude. She was about to return upstairs to see how Jane was faring when she saw him sway suddenly on his feet. He was far too tall for Elizabeth to think of supporting him, and there was no one on duty in the hall, so she seized a chair from against the wall and dragged it over so that he could sit or, rather, collapse into it.
She was just about to ring for a footman when the captain raised his voice in a bellow that, she reflected, must have been trained by many a storm at sea. “Starkey!”
After a few seconds, she heard the sound of pounding feet, and the famous valet appeared, local report having once more lied, for in the matter of legs he had an undeniably complete set. He was also dressed in the decent subfusc of an upper servant, even if he did have an impressive pigtail hanging halfway down his back.
“You’m not been wearing your giglamps,” he scolded, producing the spectacles from a pocket. “You know what Mr Luscombe said.”
“Luscombe’s an old woman, and you are another.” However, the captain took the spectacles and put them on. “I do not think they make a damned bit of difference.” He squeezed his eyes shut and lay back in the chair. “Is Miss Elizabeth still there?”
