Page 18 of Master of Himself

***

Too nervous to object to Darcy’s cheerless attire, Charles submitted to Mr Hobbs’s suggestions. To maintain the ruse, he had to dress in Darcy’s style – black, charcoal grey, navy blue, or dark green. If he were being honest, it was dashed depressing. Even the simple knot in his cravats inspired no pride. Darcy was a fine figure of a man, but his mode of dress was stodgy and dull.

He longed for his blue flowered waistcoat or the red stripes, and the fobs and seals adorning his breeches, but he dared not make any changes to Darcy’s attire. His present situation already had too many questions for which he had no suitable replies. To survive this fiasco, he must disguise himself as the stalwart Fitzwilliam Darcy. His friend’s sudden favour of bright colours, florals, and stripes would bring unwanted attention.

In any event, he ought not trouble himself over that possibility. He doubted that Darcy even owned such fashionable attire.

When the valet presented him with the fresh cravat, Charles tied it into a simple knot. He’d had no opportunity to practice, so it would have to do. Hobbs made no objection, so he must have managed it well enough.

After leaving his room, he tapped on his former chamber door, peeked inside, and found Darcy pacing over the carpet. He stopped abruptly and frowned. “What have you done with my cravat?”

“It’s fine,” he said, to which Darcy frowned. Perhaps it wasn’t precisely the way Darcy tied it, but still… “Hobbs has already tied it for me twice. I couldn’t ask him again.”

“Just loosen it a bit, like this,” Darcy said, then made a small adjustment to his own cravat. Charles tugged on both sides of the knot. “Yes, that’s better.”

He released a sigh of relief. “We’re getting rather good at this, don’t you think? You’re even wearing stripes. No one suspects that anything is amiss.”

“Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”

***

Upon entering the breakfast parlour, Darcy was glad to see Elizabeth already seated, but despaired at the dark smudges under her eyes. “How is Miss Bennet?” he inquired as he sat beside her.

“She slept very ill last night.”

He suspected that Elizabeth had passed a difficult night tending to her sister. “If Mr Jones’s draught has offered no relief perhaps I ought to send for a physician.” It was the least he could do to help ease her burden.

“Thank you, but I’ve written to my mother and asked her to come see Jane and judge for herself how best to proceed.”

He agreed to this suggestion and hoped Mrs Bennet’s guidance would put Elizabeth’s mind at ease.

He had not long to wait. The lady arrived shortly after breakfast with two of her daughters, and Elizabeth escorted them upstairs to the sickroom. A few minutes later, Mr Jones returned as expected to check on his patient. Charles paced as they waited for word of Miss Bennet’s condition.

Thirty minutes later, the Bennet ladies entered the sitting parlour. Elizabeth’s grave expression gave him pause.

Mrs Bennet exchanged effusive civilities with Darcy and Bingley’s sisters but offered only the slightest nod to Charles. “I’m afraid Jane is too ill to be moved, Mr Bingley, and we must trespass a little longer on your kindness.”

Knowing Charles would extend the highest possible courtesy to her, Darcy answered as he would in his own house. “No, indeed, Mrs Bennet, you may put your mind at ease. My sisters will tend to your daughter’s every need.”

“Miss Bennet will receive every attention while she is with us,” Caroline said with cold civility.

After gushing with abundant appreciation for this perceived kindness, Mrs Bennet expounded on her daughter’s patience and sweetness, of which Darcy was certain Charles heartily agreed. She then changed the subject. “I hope you will not think of quitting Netherfield, Mr Bingley, though you have such a short lease.”

Darcy exchanged quick glances with Charles. “Not at all. London is within an easy distance, and should a business or legal matter arise, I can be there in short order.”

The lady brightened at this. “I suppose you are accustomed to your own solicitor, otherwise I would recommend my brother-in-law, Mr Phillips, who keeps an office in the village.”

Under no circumstances would Darcy consider engaging a country solicitor, but he supposed Charles would offer a polite response to this unwelcome suggestion. “I’m glad to hear of it, but you’re correct. My solicitor in town is intimately acquainted with the details of my business affairs.”

Her smile never faltered. “Still, I hope you are enjoying country life.”

“I’m a great admirer of the country, ma’am,” he said, thinking fondly of Pemberley and the peaks of Derbyshire.

Miss Elizabeth smiled at this response and cast appreciative eyes at him. Yes, a man could get lost in those eyes.

Her sisters, however, wanted better manners. While their mother devoted all her attention to Darcy, supposing him to be Charles Bingley, the two younger daughters whispered and giggled without restraint. They only ceased their unruly antics when their mother swatted them with her fan.

“I suppose that gentleman prefers the amusements in town,” Mrs Bennet said, directing her comments to Charles, intending them for Darcy.