Page 46 of Love Among the Shadows
"Well! I cannot but admire her extraordinary presumption. We have shown her nothing save the utmost hospitality, yet she spurns our table with such evident disdain. One would suppose her sister to be upon her deathbed, given her theatrical display of concern. We are all sensible, however, that she harbours quite different motives for her presence here."
Mrs. Hurst inclined her head in agreement.
"I wish you had seen how she presented herself yesterday. Her petticoat was six inches deep in mud, her complexion quite wild from exertion. What lady of proper breeding would so compromise her dignity? It was a most vulgar exhibition, and I confess myself sorry that the entire neighbourhood was not witness to such a remarkable performance." Miss Bingley's voice carried the sharp edge of disdain.
Mrs. Hurst gave a languid laugh. "Indeed, Caroline. It is quite beyond comprehension. To tramp across the countryside in such weather alone! Most particularly when a murderer remains at large. It betrays her breeding most entirely. A lady of proper upbringing ought to know infinitely better.
“And let us be frank,” Caroline continued, lowering her voice in mock confidence, “she would never have attempted it had Jane’s illness not offered so neat an excuse. I believe she has long wished to follow her sister here, and now, under pretence of duty, she remains. Cleverly done.”
Bingley, who had grown redder with every word, burst out, “Caroline, that is unkind in the extreme. Miss. Elizabeth Bennet came because she loves her sister. Few ladies would do as much, and I, for one, admire her devotion. Miss. Bennet is fortunate indeed.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam set down his cup with decision. “Hear, hear. I quite agree. Miss Elizabeth shows courage that puts many of finer pretensions to shame. Braving hardship forthe sake of family is no slight thing. I think very highly of her for it.”
“Constancy to family, particularly in a time of trial, is a virtue not easily dismissed. In such unsettled days as these, there is no quality more deserving of respect.” Darcy added.
Caroline gave a brittle laugh. “Virtue, perhaps—but Mr Darcy, would you so approve if Georgiana ventured through mud and mire in such a fashion? Surely you cannot wish her to imitate such rustic boldness.”
Every gaze turned toward him. Darcy rested a moment on his sister’s face before replying with grave steadiness. “If Georgiana believed it needful to aid her family, I should not oppose her. Refinement may be learned; loyalty of heart cannot. If she acted as Miss Elizabeth has done, I would think no less of her. Indeed, I should admire her for it.”
A brief silence followed. Caroline coloured and looked away. Mrs. Hurst smoothed her napkin, her lips pressed thin.
Sensing the tension, Colonel Fitzwilliam raised his glass with a half-smile. “Well then—let us drink to sisters, and to the good sense of those who know their worth.”
Bingley laughed, eager to support him. Georgiana kept her eyes lowered, but a faint smile touched her lips.
Caroline’s own smile was fixed and tight. She spoke no more on the matter. The company shifted into safer topics, but the air had changed, and Elizabeth’s absence was felt more keenly than her presence had been.
Twenty Six
The Bingley sisters visited Jane’s chambers twice after breakfast, sweeping in with rustling silk and affected concern. Miss Bingley inquired after Jane's condition with studied politeness, while Mrs. Hurst offered tepid observations about the benefits of rest and quiet. Though their civility bore the unmistakable stamp of obligation rather than genuine feeling, Elizabeth received their attentions with gratitude. Any notice paid to Jane, however perfunctory, was preferable to neglect.
Mr Bingley proved more sincere in his solicitude, appearing once in the company of Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. His earnest inquiries about Jane's comfort and repeated offers of assistance betrayed an anxiety that his sisters' calculated visits had utterly lacked. The colonel made appropriate remarks about the apothecary's competence, while Mr Darcy maintained his reserve, though his dark eyes lingered thoughtfully upon Jane's pale countenance.
Just after the luncheon hour had passed, a light knock sounded. Elizabeth called, “Come in.”
It was Georgiana Darcy. She slipped inside with quiet grace, curtsying as she said, “Good afternoon, Miss Elizabeth. I hope I do not intrude. I came to enquire after your sister.”
Elizabeth’s smile warmed at once. “You are most welcome, Miss Darcy. Pray come nearer. Jane will be heartened to know of your concern, though she rests still.”
Georgiana approached the bed, her eyes lingering on Jane’s pale cheeks. “She looks so ill. I am sorry for it. Does the fever ease at all?”
“A little,” Elizabeth said gently. “She used the apothecary’s draught this morning. With more rest, I hope she will recover quickly.”
“It must be a great comfort to her that you remain with her,” Georgiana said.
Elizabeth laughed lightly. “I doubt she would call it a comfort if she were awake. I am forever fussing and questioning her at every stir. But I could not leave her to suffer alone.”
Georgiana’s smile broke across her face, warm and unguarded, revealing the sweetness of her countenance.
Seeing her thus lightened, Elizabeth ventured one of the thoughts that had lingered in her mind. “You said yesterday that your brother mentioned me in his letters.”
Georgiana nodded, though shyness seemed to creep over her again.
“I wonder exactly what he wrote. Will you at least hint it?”
She hesitated, as though weighing her words. “Fitzwilliam rarely speaks of any lady. That he thought to mention you at all speaks of how well he regards you.”
Elizabeth felt the colour rise in her cheeks. Georgiana clearly withheld more, but she would not press her.
