Page 10 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
It was insulting, granted, but it was a relief because it was at least a useful conversation. Elizabeth decided to interview them in turn, as her possible sisters-in-law, to determine how they might get along.
She also felt a bit triumphant. Mr. Bingley was very interested in her, then.
Good.
After eating, they all stared out the windows as the darkness swallowed up the world and the rain kept coming.
Finally, Miss Bingley said, “I suppose you’ll have to stay here tonight,” in a dolorous tone.
Elizabeth, much dejected, agreed, “I think I had better, I’m afraid.”
They all sighed heavily.
This decided, everyone retired for the night, and Elizabeth could not help but think they had done this so that Elizabeth would be tucked away in her bedchamber when Mr. Bingley got home. She began to think that perhaps she had been found wanting in her interview that day. They did not wish their brother to marry her.
Well, of course they didn’t, Elizabeth supposed.
Even so, it wasn’t that awful of a match, even if the Bennet family was not very well connected. Her father was a gentleman, and Mr. Bingley’s money came from trade. It was a common tale—a woman brought the respectability and the man brought the fortune.
Mr. Bingley could have reached higher, likely, found a woman more respectable, but Elizabeth thought she was adequately situated. She was not a degradation to Mr. Bingley.
Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, with his ten thousand a year, he would likely think her so.
Oh, why have I even thought that?she fretted. There was no reason to entertain any idea of marrying Mr. Darcy.
Besides, she didn’t evenlikeMr. Darcy.
CHAPTER THREE
ELIZABETH WOKE THEnext morning with a sore throat. She felt poorly and would have preferred to spend the day in bed, but not here.
She determined that she would simply hide her malady until she could get back on the horse and get home. Then, she’d crawl into bed and spend the day in the comfort of her own home, recovering.
She presented herself in the breakfast parlor, but no one else was there. It was early, she supposed, and perhaps the Bingleys kept with a schedule that was more compatible with town than the country. In town, people often slept the entire morning away, but this was because of staying up quite late at night, and Elizabeth had been put to bed by 9:00 the night before.
Food was already set out on the sideboard, so she served herself.
And since no one was there, she did not stifle her coughs, which were the only outward sign of her sickness.
“You don’t sound well, Miss Bennet.”
She started.
It was Mr. Darcy, standing in the doorway of the breakfast parlor.
She got to her feet, startled. “Mr. Darcy!”
“I heard you were caught in the rain yesterday,” he said. “I think you must go straight back to bed. I shall have theservants bring your plate to you, and also a remedy for your throat, lemon-honey in very hot water.”
“Oh, I think… that is… I am only staying to bid adieu politely, and then I shall ride back to my own home. I shall be more comfortable there.”
“Nonsense,” said Mr. Darcy. “You are ill.”
“It’s a trifle.”
“Serious things often begin as trifles, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy in a grave voice. “We did not think the illness that felled my mother was serious at the beginning, you know. Perhaps if we had, the outcome would have been different.”
She bowed her head. “I’m so sorry about your loss, Mr. Darcy, of course, but I am not in any danger—” She broke off in a coughing fit.
