"A very fine one," Caroline said. "Though I cannot imagine the quality of his furniture has any great bearing upon Thomas' suitability to court me."
"Caroline, allow me to finish."
Thomas laid a quiet hand over hers before answering. "My father worked with his hands all his life and supported his family honourably. My mother was the daughter of a Yorkshire clergyman, and her father saw that I received a good education. I am not ashamed of either side of my family, Mr Bingley."
"Nor should you be," Charles said after a moment. "My own father began with very little and made his fortune in trade. I would be a hypocrite to object to honest work."
"Then what does trouble you?" Jane asked gently.
Charles glanced towards Caroline. "That they have found one another again after nearly five years and already speak of a life together. I should be concerned if any woman wished to bind herself to a man on the strength of feelings formed when she was seventeen."
"That is fair," Jane said. "But Dr Parodi is asking to court Caroline, not to carry her away this afternoon. A courtship would give you time to know him and Caroline the chance to discover whether the man he has become is still the man she wishes to marry."
Charles looked between them, plainly irritated by the reasonableness of the argument. "You make it sound remarkably simple."
"It need not be complicated merely because it is important." Jane paused, studying him with a quietness that made Charles’ expression grow wary. "Though perhaps I am not the best person to whom you might appeal for caution in matters of the heart."
"What do you mean?"
"Did you mean what you said to me while I was ill?"
The question seemed to empty every other thought from his face. "What did I say?"
Jane’s cheeks coloured, but she did not look away. "You said that you loved me and wished to marry me."
Charles stared at her. The colour rose so quickly in his face that Caroline feared, for one absurd moment, that they might require Thomas' services again.
"I thought you were asleep." He ran one hand through his hair, upsetting it further. "Jane, I did not mean to make an offer while you were feverish and scarcely knew where you were."
"So you did not mean it?"
His face had reddened so violently that he resembled a man being slowly boiled inside his cravat. "Of course I meant it." The force of the answer seemed to surprise even him. He took a step towards her, then stopped, apparently uncertain whether he ought to continue with Caroline and Thomas still standing nearby.
Jane saved him the difficulty. "Then I have decided that my answer shall be conditional upon your giving your blessing to this courtship."
Charles stared at her for several seconds. "You cannot make your answer conditional when I have not yet proposed properly."
"Then perhaps you ought to propose properly."
Beside Thomas, Caroline made a small strangled sound and turned it hastily into a cough. "I shall take that as your blessing, brother."
Charles dragged his gaze from Jane with visible difficulty. "Yes, yes, you have it. Now would you kindly go away, Caro, and take your doctor with you?"
Thomas offered Caroline his arm. "I believe we have been dismissed."
"With remarkable discourtesy," she said, placing her hand upon his sleeve with a sniff that held just a touch of her previous persona. "Though under the circumstances, I am prepared to forgive him."
Chapter Twenty
Darcy, November 1811, Netherfield, Hertfordshire
Four days later, Miss Bennet was much recovered. Her fever had not returned, her colour was steadily improving and Parodi had pronounced her strong enough to spend the evening downstairs, provided she did not overtax herself. Bingley, apparently having forgotten the unfortunate conclusion of the last dinner he had hosted, immediately decided that her recovery required a grand meal.
By grand, Darcy soon discovered, his friend meant that the formal dining room must be opened, the best dinner service brought out and Mrs Nicholls instructed to produce enough food for three times their number. The company itself was to remain small: Mr and Mrs Bennet, Miss Bennet and Bingley, Hurst and Louisa, Caroline and Parodi and, of course, Elizabeth and himself. It was less a dinner party than a gathering of couples in various stages of understanding, though Darcy suspected Bingley thought only of Jane Bennet.
Mr and Mrs Bennet were still in residence at Netherfield, Mrs Bennet having declared that Jane could not possibly be moveduntil she was entirely restored. Now that the danger had passed, however, her alarm had given way to delighted satisfaction. She watched Bingley’s attentions towards her eldest daughter with such open glee that Bingley seemed to exist in a state of perpetual embarrassment. It amused Darcy to watch his friend turn a vibrant shade of red under the lady’s constant effusions. It also had the fortunate effect of leaving him free to pursue Elizabeth with limited parental scrutiny.
Darcy left the drawing room shortly before dinner, having seen Elizabeth slip through the terrace doors a few minutes earlier. The brief glimpse of her skirts beyond the glass had been enough to draw his attention from every conversation in the room. He remained where he was for as long as patience and discretion required, then followed her out onto the lawn.
