One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (60 page)

“What was your urgent business in my quarters, Miss Bingley? It must have been a matter of great import for you to make such a case of gaining immediate admittance.” Elizabeth asked with a weary sigh. “I had been asleep before your knocking at the outer door woke me.”

“I came out of
 
concern,
 
dear Eliza. With my brother and your sister gone to Longbourn, I feel it was my Christian duty to ascertain your condition. After all, if you need to see Mr. Jones again, the hour to summon him is nearly upon us.”

“Thank you, but I do not require Mr. Jones.” Elizabeth replied with an attempt at civility she did not feel, “Is there any other matter that brought you here? I should return to the bedchamber if we are finished, Miss Bingley.”

“I wish to visit you.” Caroline said, coldly. “You have been a guest in this house, of which I am presently acting mistress for two days now and have been well attended to be sure, but now you are alone.”

“You are most observant. I am indeed alone.” Elizabeth nodded, thinking,
I am alone
 
b
ecause you sent Sarah away
. “I thank you for your consideration, Miss Bingley. It was most kind, but I daresay Jane shall return soon. I do not require your attendance.”

“There is another reason for my visit, Miss Eliza. I am perfectly aware of how many persons were in this room yesterday, and considering the number, I discerned that the decanter of elderberry wine we provided according to Mr. Jones' directions was certain to be low.” Caroline pointed to a tray on the table with the nearly empty vessel. “I see that my anticipation was indeed correct. I have brought more. The new bottle is in the hall; I shall go get it now.” Caroline smiled with forced sweetness as she turned to retrieve it.

“That is very thoughtful, Miss Bingley, but you have underestimated the efficiency of your staff. A footman delivered a new bottle on the instruction of your butler this morning, and Jane is to refill the decanter on her return. There shall be adequate time for it to settle before we drink our evening cup.” Elizabeth said.

“Nonsense,” said Caroline, “we were forced to buy the wine in Meryton since we had not anything so crude as elderberry in the wine cellar here at Netherfield. It is of an inferior quality and the amount of sediment in these bottles is shocking. We must pour it now and give it more time.”

“By all means,” said Elizabeth sweetly as she gestured toward the table. “The bottle is just to the left of the decanter there. There is no need to go for another.”

Caroline frowned but transferred the liquid from the bottle and replaced the stopper, her back turned to Elizabeth as she worked. When she had finished, she posed the question, “How do you like the room, Miss Eliza?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The room.” Caroline turned with a slight smirk. “These
 
are
 
Darcy's chambers, you know.” She inhaled deeply. “The room still bears his distinct aroma. You are surrounded by it. Does that not please you?”

“I had not noticed.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I have been too ill to take particular note of the smell. It could have been a fish market, and I would have slept through it.”

“Come now, we are both women,” Caroline said with a smirk. She tipped her head as if to enter into a confidence with Elizabeth. “Do you not take pleasure in lying in Darcy's bed? Is there not some delightful essence of the man that lingers on the pillows?”

“Miss Bingley, I beg you to forgive me for not answering such an indelicate question. In return for the favor, I shall forgive you for asking it,” Elizabeth replied evenly.

“I
 
knew
 
it.” Caroline shrugged. “I
 
knew
 
that you were violently in love with him. Oh, you poor, pitiful creature—Darcy would never ... oh, but you thought he would, did you not?” Caroline laughed feebly. “Louisa said that you would believe he could love you, but I gave you more credit.”

“Upon my word, I know
 
not
 
of what you speak,” Elizabeth replied as she turned toward the bedchamber door.

“Do you not?” Caroline teased. “If that were so, you would not withdraw so easily—you would desire an explanation. No, I see well enough that you believe he cares for you, although he does not regard you well enough to declare it openly.” She drummed her fingers on the table as she added, “I wonder why he would wish to appear indifferent, if he is not. What do you suppose he means by keeping it secret?”

“If he were to harbor such a secret, what will you accomplish in exposing it?” Elizabeth shrugged and replied archly. “What do you propose I do if it is true? What if it is false? What then? Pray tell me how I should act in regards to a secret so well kept that you must speculate it into existence.”

“I daresay that you
 
think
 
you know how to act,” Caroline sneered. “This is why men should not marry below their station—you simply do not understand the ways of men of society—that is dismally evident. There are the ladies whom they marry, and there are the others whom they use for their pleasure and cast aside when they lose interest.” Caroline gasped as though sudden realization was upon her. “Miss Eliza, you poor thing—have you already given yourself to him? I suspected that this is not the first time you have been in his bed, Why else would he trouble with you as long as he has? You sad, naïve country maid—
if you are still a maid
, you may rest assured that when it comes to marriage, his head will rule. He will select a woman of breeding, of accomplishment, of fortune....”

“You mean that he will choose you,” Elizabeth replied calmly. “If that happens, I shall wish you joy.”

“I
 
shall
 
be mistress of Pemberley.” Caroline smiled victoriously as she held out her hand and inspected her fingertips. “And you—you shall be derided and pitied, your reputation tarnished with whispers of impropriety and disappointed hopes.”

“You, the mistress of Pemberley? I think not Miss Bingley, for yours are not the words of a gentle born lady. Whomever he marries, Mr. Darcy's 'head' is certain to require that she is at least that—fortune and connections aside, you cannot sustain your pretense to be a gentlewoman unless you first acquire some manners.” Elizabeth curtseyed and retired to the bedchamber, closing the door behind her.

As soon as Elizabeth was out of sight, Caroline reached into the slight cleft between her bosoms and withdrew a small key. She promptly went to the small writing desk in the corner and used the key to open the bank of drawers it held. She rifled through the top drawer, extracting a journal and a stack of papers, which she promptly sat at the desk to read.

The journal had occupied her attention for a quarter of an hour when she turned a page and found two folded papers tucked between the leaves. The first she unfolded and discovered what appeared to be a charcoal rubbing of some sort of embroidered design, which she did not examine closely—she assumed it to be some trivial enclosure sent in a letter from Darcy's sister, but the second paper, it constituted a list written in Darcy's elegant hand. She studied the contents of the list carefully.

Wickham—in Hertfordshire

Aunt C.—leak / hunting / will find

Anne—confirm status

Collins—proposal

C. Bingley—trouble / reproach

E.D. handkerchief—
must
 
return

E.B.—opinion / walking / dance

Georgiana—write letter/ visit

Fitz—assist with W

Col. F.—visit

The list puzzled her as much as it intrigued her. Some names where obvious, others more cryptic. Was “C. Bingley” a reference to her or to Charles? E.B. was obvious, but who was E.D.? What status was he to confirm with Anne? What did it all mean?

She heard the distant sound of her brother and Jane entering the doors of Netherfield, his merry voice ringing loudly in the entryway. She hastily returned the journal and papers to the drawer, which she locked. The exception was the list, which she folded into a smaller size and tucked into her dress along with the two keys. She was careful to avoid detection as she left the room and picked up the rejected bottle of elderberry wine as she passed the table in the hall. Returning to her own chambers at the end of the corridor, Caroline was both disappointed and pleased with the outcome of her call on Elizabeth, but far more distracted by the meaning of the entries in the list she had acquired, so she retired to her chambers to study it further.

~*~

“Charles, I must go to Elizabeth.” Jane giggled slightly as she pulled herself from his embrace.

“You are an angel of mercy to your sister,” Bingley replied with a cheerful smile as he released her, “and an instrument of torment to
 
me
 
now that we are engaged.”

“Do not say it! Can I cause you to be in torment when I am so very happy?” Jane sighed. “I am glad Papa agreed to a short engagement, although Mama was certainly wishing for more time to prepare. In all honesty, dearest, she began planning our wedding the day you obtained Papa’s consent to court me, although I told her it was too soon.” Jane let out an involuntary squeal. “Oh, Charles! I shall be Mrs. Bingley for Christmas!”

“Yes, you shall.” Bingley raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Never have I seen you so joyous, Jane! We are fortunate, indeed, for a Christmas engagement brings great opportunities, my angel. I shall trim the halls of Netherfield with mistletoe in every doorway!” Charles declared.

“You shall not need it,” Jane blushed, “when we are wed.”

“I will not wait for Christmas Eve, Jane. We deck the halls tomorrow!” Bingley declared, his eyes dancing at the genius of his idea.

“That is too soon.” Jane laughed merrily, even as she attempted to scold him.

“Negotiations are in order, I suppose. I will settle for one early sprig of mistletoe, strategically placed.” Bingley smiled mischievously.

“I will not be here at Netherfield for you to use it! Have you forgotten? I return to Longbourn as soon as Elizabeth is well enough to go,” Jane reminded him.

“Then I shall place it at Longbourn,” Bingley whispered the sly threat victoriously.

“Oh dear!” Jane cried, “You must not tease Mama so! If she were to see us kissing beneath the mistletoe, she will expect that you want to ... um, hmmm, she will expect that you intend to marry me.” Jane trailed off with a delighted giggle. “You are determined?” Jane bestowed a shy smile on him, and he was undone.

“Very,” Bingley said with a cheeky grin as he stole another kiss from sweet Jane, whose reluctance decreased ever so slightly with each romantic encounter with the amorous Mr. Bingley.

~*~

The hour was late when Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived at the outskirts of London, later still when he reached Darcy House—yet upon his approach, the glow of candlelight in the front window bid him welcome. He had not yet alighted from his steed when a stable-hand appeared to see to the animal, and the butler opened the doors, greeting him as politely as if he were arriving for high tea.

He declined the offer to refresh himself and went directly to Darcy's study, where his cousin had patiently awaited his arrival. The door was ajar, and Fitzwilliam could see Darcy bent over the desk, writing. At the sound of footsteps, Darcy looked up from his work, set the pen down and leaned back in the chair.

“How is Miss Bennet?” Darcy asked solemnly.

“She is very well. By now I believe her engagement to Bingley is official,” the colonel said, fingering some books on a shelf. He turned, and seeing Darcy scowling, added, “Perhaps you meant the
 
other
 
Miss Bennet? She was sleeping under the care of the maid when I left. I believe she was a little better.”