Elizabeth laughed at herself, shaking her head at her own silliness. Charlotte had thought that a man with five thousand a year could not be serious about Jane, even though she was an acknowledged beauty and despite evidence of his devotion: Mr Bingley's expressions and praises, his asking Jane to dance two times in a single ball, his hurry to be by her side whenever he visited.
How dare Elizabeth think for even a moment that a man supposedly worth twice as much would look on her, who nobody had ever claimed as beautiful, with approbation? No doubt his stare meant something altogether different.
Surprisingly, Miss Bingley had not exaggerated about how extremely handsome Mr Darcy was. If Elizabeth had thought Mr Bingley well-favoured, Mr Darcy was far and away better looking, in her opinion. Again, she laughed at herself. How had she managed to imagine approval in Mr Darcy’s eyes when he himself was wealthy and handsome, and he must have a thousand beautiful women vying for his attention?
“What are you smiling about, Lizzy?”
Jane’s voice was raspy, and she ended her question with a cough. Elizabeth hurried to give her some water to sip on, and as she checked for fever and other symptoms, she said, “Oh, it is just that your Mr Bingley is so anxious for you. It is so pleasing to see his concern.”
“Did he laugh, in the hallway? I thought I heard…well, I heard something….”
“No, Mr Bingley’s mysterious missing guest has come. Had you heard that his friend Mr Darcy was to stay here?”
“Oh, yes, I had heard that.”
“Anyway, it was Mr Darcy who laughed in the hallway. I made…well, a sort of jesting remark. Mr Darcy laughed.”
And, she remembered, Mr Bingley had looked a bit confused.
“I am confused,” Jane mumbled. Elizabeth smiled to think that Mr Bingley and Jane would do very well together.
“What can I do about that cough, Jane? You said you were not hungry, but how about some tea and honey?
Her sister agreed. Soon she was sipping her tea and managing to look prettier while blowing her nose than most ladies looked dressed for a ball. Elizabeth began reading aloud to Jane, and when her sister fell asleep she continued to readsilently to herself, sipping at her own tea and nibbling the rolls that had been brought up for her.
She settled in, knowing that Jane’s colds often lingered and sometimes became lung infections. Elizabeth would have to watch her carefully, as Jane never complained, even when she ought to.
CHAPTER 7
13 November 1811
DARCY
Darcy reminded Bingley that he needed to eat and that they had planned to do something useful. Soon they were riding through the park surrounding the manor house.
It was easy for Darcy to slip into instructional mode. He pointed out a place where the gravel had been swept away by the heavy rainfall and speculated that merely fixing that spot would only be a short-term solution. He suggested they attempt to follow the course of the water’s movement to understand why so much had converged on that spot. They soon came to a drainage ditch that had been clogged with watercress and reeds.
Bingley looked around carefully so he could report the troublesome spot to his steward. “Would it be enough, Darcy, to say that the clogged drainage ditch was near the end of the row of trimmed trees or bushes near the west side of the park?”
“That is a pretty good description, Bingley, but these are common hornbeam trees that have been coppiced, almost assuredly to provide protection against winds. Being more specific will help him find what we discovered more quickly—and it will better cement his respect for you.”
“Thank you, Darcy.”
“Do you need to take notes? I brought a piece of paper and a pencil in my saddlebag.”
“I would say that my memory is better than my handwriting…so, no.”
Chuckling, the men rode on. They did not find much about the well-run estate to correct. Soon they arrived at the first tenant farm and introduced themselves to the Marshall family. Bingley led the discussion, as was only right, but Darcy noted that Mrs Marshall looked hesitant, as if she wished to speak, but both her husband and Bingley spoke so rapidly and eagerly about the recent harvest, she subsided.
Eventually, Bingley said, “Well, it was so nice to meet you?—”
Darcy cut him off and said, “Mrs Marshall, you have not had a chance to tell us of your needs. I assure you that Mr Bingley wishes to hear about items in the house that need repair, or any other needs you have.”
All eyes on her, Mrs Marshall coloured and hesitated.
Bingley said kindly, “Please do share anything that comes to your mind, Mrs Marshall.”
“Well, sir, the fireplace has begun to smoke a bit, as if the chimney was not functioning as it ought.”
