Mr. Darcy Came to Dinner (30 page)

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Authors: Jack Caldwell

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“Are ya sure about this, Billy?” the girl demanded.

“She ain’t here, now, is she? I’m tellin’ ya, Mr. Bennet dismissed her.”

“And for what? Sally’s as hard-workin’ a girl as Longbourn’s ever seen.”

“That may be true, and that may not, but when
the Quality
takes a dislikin’ to ya, ya best see to yourself.”

“The
Quality
? You mean Miss Bingley?” The maid sniffed. “
She
don’t carry no weight around here.”

“You say true and no mistake, but I ain’t talking about that one. I means th’ guest in the parlor.”

The maid gasped. “Mr. Darcy?”

“Keep yer voice down,” the stable boy advised. “Do ya wanna be next?”

“Why would Mr. Darcy want Sally run off?”

“You didn’t hear about last night?”

“I heard about some spilt wine and yellin’, but — No, I don’t believe it!”

“Believe what ya like, but there’s the wine, an’ there’s Mr. Darcy — an’ Sally’s gone.”

“Maybe she went home sick.”

“Lord! Ain’t ya got a brain in yer head? Her stuff’s cleared out! Look, I know th’ Master’s not one to run a servant off. Look how long he put up with old Whittaker, that damn thief. He was stealin’ him blind, he was, but th’ Master wouldn’t let him go ’til he retired. No, it was Mr. Darcy that made th’ Master dismiss Sally. Ya can depend on that, sure as I’m standin’ here.”

“Just for spillin’ wine?” Elizabeth could hear disbelief in the maid’s voice.

“And ruining his shirt. I’ve heard me some stories about the
Quality
, girl. Makes yer hair stand up on end.”

“You’ve heard a lot o’things at the tavern, Billy, but I’d be careful of givin’ any of the fools there any say-so. Mr. Darcy’s been nothin’ but good an’ kind, and I’ll not say a word against him.”

“I don’t think I like what yer sayin’. You sweet on Mr. Darcy?”

“You’re daft! He’s too high for the likes of me. Besides, if I were, what business is it of yours?”

“Aw, Betsey, ya know I’ve taken a fancy to ya.”

The pair moved off, but Elizabeth remained frozen. She realized she had not seen Sally all day.

No! Stop it!
Elizabeth raged to herself. She had been there, and while Mr. Darcy was shocked at the incident, only his valet was angry. He was not. Elizabeth was sure of it. Certainly Mr. Darcy would not make her father dismiss a servant because of a ruined shirt.

Would he?

No! It was impossible! Mr. Darcy had been remarkably kind to her sisters — and to her — since he had been here. Elizabeth knew she had misjudged him. He was firm, but fair — and kind, very kind.

Elizabeth almost went to her father for an explanation but stopped. It was foolish to confirm what she already knew. Perhaps Sally
was
ill. Elizabeth was sure she would see the girl tomorrow. Moreover, Billy was a known braggart. If he did not cease his tales, Elizabeth was of a mind to speak to her father about him.

Not that Father would do anything. Billy was right about that. No, Father is not a man of action. Not like Mr. Darcy.

Enough of that, Elizabeth Rose Bennet! Time to get to bed!

Chapter 17

J
ANE AND
E
LIZABETH WERE
invited to return to Meryton the next morning to attend their aunt Mrs. Philips. They enjoyed an early breakfast and set out, walking the well-trod path from Longbourn to the village. They had not seen Mr. Darcy during breakfast, which for Elizabeth’s peace of mind was most welcome. She had not slept well again, still disturbed by the overheard conversation between the servants.

The two had gone only a little way before Elizabeth asked her sister whether they might alter their route to pass by the cottage of Sally’s family.

“Certainly, if you wish it,” replied Jane, “but is not Sally at Longbourn?”

“I did not see her this morning. I fear she might be ill.”

“I am sure she is not. Mrs. Hill would have mentioned it. Perhaps she was attending her duties to Mr. Darcy.”

“You may be right, but what if someone else — her mother or brother — is ill? Jane, it would ease my mind to see for myself.”

“Very well, it shall be as you wish.”

They were such a distance from home that neither was aware of the arrival at Longbourn of a coach from London.

* * *

Darcy felt the absence of Sally keenly. Bartholomew had to do the work of two, and they were so behind their time that Darcy had breakfast in his parlor bedroom while his valet struggled to shave him. He had finally finished when Mrs. Hill announced the arrival of a party from Town. Behind her was a plump, middle-aged woman well-known to Darcy. He had used the nurse before when Georgiana was ill with a cold in London.

“Ah, Mrs. Adams! You made good time. I hope your journey was not too tiresome?”

The nurse curtsied with a smile. “No trouble at all, sir. You have a most delightful carriage. We set off at first light, and here we are. I am grieved, however, to find you in such a state. Are you in much pain, may I ask?”

Darcy briefly explained his injury and the prognosis. By then, Mr. Bennet had made an appearance.

“Sir,” said Darcy, “here is the nurse I spoke about, Mrs. Adams. Madam, this is my host, Mr. Bennet.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Adams.” He turned to Darcy. “Are you certain I cannot be of use to you?”

“I thank you for your offer, but I shall not presume further on your hospitality. I have secured a room at the Meryton Inn for Mrs. Adams.”

“My needs are small, Mr. Bennet. I am sure my room will be sufficient,” claimed the nurse. “Pray allow me a moment to freshen up, and I shall be about my work. I have my instructions from Mr. Macmillan, and I will have you back on your feet and returned to London in no time, Mr. Darcy.”

“Good,” mumbled Bartholomew.

* * *

The little cottage was on a lane off the main road to Meryton. Elizabeth and Jane had barely started down the path before they beheld two vehicles, a coach and a wagon, in the lane before the little house. The cottage was in a state of upheaval; trunks and boxes were scattered about just outside the door, and strangers were moving things about. The Bennet girls gasped and quickened their steps.

When Elizabeth saw three people enter the carriage, she broke into a full run, disregarding the cries from Jane. She reached the vehicle just as the driver ascended to the box. To her horror, Elizabeth saw a weeping Sally inside.

“Sally — Sally!” she cried. “What is happening? Where are you going?”

Sally struggled with the window and could not lower it until the carriage began to move. She stuck out her tear-lined face. “Oh, Miss Lizzy, good bye! Good bye! God bless you and your family!”

“Sally! Where are you going?”

The noise of the wheels drowned out the young maid’s voice. It soon turned onto the main road and out of sight.

“Why are Sally and her family in that carriage? cried Jane as she reached her. “What is happening here?”

Elizabeth took in the chaos of moving with dread. “I fear Sally’s family has departed Meryton! But why?” She boldly walked over to one of the workmen in the yard who was carrying a chair. “You there!” she demanded. “What are you doing with that?”

The man, large and unkempt, scowled as he set his burden down. “An’ who are ye to be askin’?”

Not intimidated in the least, Elizabeth drew herself up to her full height but reached only to the man’s chin. “I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and those are the belongings of my servant and her family. You will tell me what you are doing with them.”

“Well, ma’am, I’m movin’ things out of that there cottage, now ain’t I?” he said with a grin, his few teeth fully visible. Meanwhile, two other men began loading the crates onto the wagon.

“Why are you doing that?” Elizabeth pointed down the lane where the carriage had passed. “And where are they going?”

The man smiled again. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but I’m thinkin’ that’s none o’ your concern. An’ me master don’t pay me for gossiping in th’ road, so I’ll expect you’ll excuse me.”

“Your master? And who is your master?”

“I’m thinkin’ that’s none o’ your concern, neither. I’ve got me papers provin’ my authority, but them’s for the magistrate, an’ he ain’t you, beggin’ your pardon again.” The workman knuckled his hat. “I’ve got me a wagon to load. Good day to ye, ma’am.” And with that, he returned to his labors.

Stunned, Elizabeth stood still in the road. Never in her life had anyone spoken to her that way.

“Oh, Lizzy,” cried Jane. “I fear that Sally’s family has lost their home.”

“I do not understand it. If they were in distress, why would they leave? Surely, Father would have helped.”

Jane agreed but sounded less certain. “Or, perhaps, Mr. Darcy — ”

In an instant, Elizabeth remembered the overheard discussion from the night before. “Mr. Darcy! Oh Lord, Mr. Darcy! It could not be true, could it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, I must return to Longbourn as quickly as may be!”

“But Aunt Philips is expecting us.”

“Pray make my excuses, Jane. I cannot delay an instant!” With that, Elizabeth dashed down the lane, leaving a confused Jane in her wake.

After she had gone a short distance, Elizabeth slowed to a fast walk, but her mind remained in turmoil. When she first met Mr. Darcy, she was impressed by his arrogance, conceit, and selfish disdain of the feelings of others. Nothing during her stay at Netherfield Park changed her opinion. Mr. Darcy cared for no one but his relations, his close acquaintances, and those of his particular station, she was convinced. Yet, since his accident, for which she still owned a measure of blame, Elizabeth had been forced to revise her condemnation of the gentleman.

True, he still liked to have things his way and had acted in a manner that she considered high-handed, but it was not out of the common way for persons of quality. Mr. Darcy was undoubtedly a devoted brother and faithful friend. Georgiana doted on him, and it was plain that Colonel Fitzwilliam would do anything for the gentleman should his cousin but ask. Bartholomew’s fierce defense of any perceived slight to his master spoke of the loyalty Mr. Darcy could inspire in people in service to him. It was obvious that Mr. Darcy also had won the admiration of
Longbourn’s
staff — a fact not lost on Elizabeth or her father.

The thought of her father caused Elizabeth to sigh.
His
determined dislike of Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth was now persuaded, was rooted in the recognition of the poor example he made as a gentleman and master in comparison to Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bennet had not been a gracious host, had sulked and complained when he was not mocking, and had expressed little thanks for the service Mr. Darcy had been to the Bennet family.

Mr. Darcy had been uncommonly kind to her sisters. Jane, Mary, Kitty — even Lydia had fallen under his spell. Mrs. Bennet now hung the moon on the man.

As for herself, Elizabeth could not forget Mr. Darcy’s valiant defense of her in the face of Mr. Collins’s vulgar presumption. The words he used! Only Elizabeth’s good sense prevented her romantic heart from running away with her, wishing for things that could never be. She told herself repeatedly that Mr. Darcy was a very good man and would do the same for anyone in a similar predicament.

Which was why Elizabeth now was so distressed. Sally was no longer at Longbourn. Her family had left Meryton, perhaps forever. The only reason Elizabeth could imagine was that Sally had been dismissed from her employment. Why? What had she done?

She spilled wine on Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth shuddered. She was not an ignorant country miss, no matter what Miss Bingley thought. She had been to Town. She knew some men could be capricious and cruel. She had heard of servants, particularly maids, dismissed from service for not complying with the carnal desires of their employers. It was not out of the question that a member of the
ton
might demand the removal of a clumsy serving woman, even if that gentleman was a guest in someone else’s house.

Could Mr. Darcy do such a thing? Would he?
Did he?

Elizabeth was tortured, and her anxiety increased with every step she took toward Longbourn. She had overcome her first impression of Mr. Darcy, but what if she had been in error? Had it all been an act?

Or perhaps he owned an ungovernable temper. She recalled his words at Netherfield:
“My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.”

Elizabeth shuddered again. She longed to be at Longbourn, to talk to her father — and Mr. Darcy.

Please, God, let me be wrong!

Minutes later, Elizabeth finally crossed the threshold of her family home. However, the first person she spied was not Mrs. Hill, or any other Longbourn servant, but a woman she had never seen before.

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