Chapter 2

Netherfield Hall

One Hour Later

Caroline Bingley, alternating between sobbing and screaming, had been carefully carried by two hefty footmen into the parlor nearest the main door of Netherfield and gently placed on a convenient settee near the fire.

Louisa Hurst, never at her best in an emergency, had succumbed to weeping at her sister’s obvious agony, leaving Mrs. Nicholls and Belinda, Caroline’s maid, to stoke the fire and find a vinaigrette in case Miss Bingley fainted. A maid, who carefully controlled an inopportune urge to giggle, gently cleaned the mud so lavishly smeared across Miss Bingley’s face.

Once the injured lady was safely indoors, Mr. Darcy had sent a servant boy off to summon the apothecary, who arrived with commendable haste some forty minutes after the accident.

“I am afraid that the ankle is almost certainly broken,” Mr. Jones said after examining Miss Bingley with care.

Caroline, who had been whimpering, cried harder. Louisa, who was looking extremely frazzled, said, “Thank you. Does it need to be … set?”

The doctor blew out a long breath and said, “It is difficult to tell at this juncture; it is so very swollen that I do not care to move it…”

“Oh, please do not move it!” Miss Bingley cried out, tears streaming down her face. “Please do not!”

“I will not,” the apothecary assured her and, turning to Mrs. Hurst, said, “I think that it would be wise to give Miss Bingley tea with some laudanum mixed in so that she can rest.”

Louisa looked helplessly around her and was relieved when Mrs. Nicholls said, “I will make up some tea and add some laudanum, Mr. Jones.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Nicholls. I knew I could depend on you,” the man replied, before turning to Caroline. “You will wish to keep it as still as possible until the swelling goes down. Please ask for assistance if you need to move around.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jones,” Louisa said and followed the man out into the corridor where Mr. Darcy and her husband were waiting.

“I need to change out of these clothes,” Caroline said suddenly, noting her mud smeared garments. She had, of course, been wearing her finest pelisse and muff for the journey to London, and now they were a disastrous mess!

“You should drink your tea first, miss,” Belinda said firmly. “Once you are not in so much pain, I will have one of the maids help me to assist you with your clothing.”

/

“Is Miss Bingley badly hurt?” Darcy demanded.

“I am afraid that her right ankle is broken,” Jones replied, “though it is possible it is merely badly sprained. I suspect that she will be quite bruised tomorrow, as she took a hard fall.”

“I want to know who is responsible for those pigs which injured my sister,” Mrs. Hurst said indignantly.

“I am certain we will find out the details in time,” Darcy said soothingly. He knew that Netherfield’s home farm boasted a small herd of pigs, and doubtless a gate had been left open, or the beasts had broken out when a servant entered their yard, or something of the sort. It was not surprising on a country estate.

“Are we going to London or not?” Hurst demanded.

“I did not realize that you were on your way to London,” Mr. Jones replied, his brow furrowed with concern. “I believe that Miss Bingley is quite unable to travel. Her ankle should heal completely in time, but if she is bounced around in a carriage, there could be irreparable damage.”

“Of course we are not going to London now, Hurst,” Louisa said indignantly. “Mr. Darcy, however, can go. Indeed, I think perhaps you should go, sir.”

She speared Darcy with a significant gaze, and he hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “I do not think I should. Your brother will be concerned about Miss Bingley, and rightly so. Indeed, we ought to send an express informing him of her injury.”

Louisa frowned heavily and then sighed. “Yes, I suppose we should.”

/

Dining Room

Longbourn

The array of dishes spread across the white linen tablecloth was expansive, with asparagus sitting beside ham, and mashed potatoes in a snowy mound beyond it. An apple pie nearly nudged against a dish of vegetables, and gravy almost sloshed out its boat. A half a dozen more options – meat and vegetables and berry tarts – jostled for position on the table.

“It is such a pity that the Netherfield ladies have gone to Town,” Mrs. Bennet fretted. “Jane and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst are such good friends. I do not understand why they had to leave now !”

Mr. Collins, the heir of Longbourn and a distant cousin to the family, had been eating steadily, but he lifted his homely face at these words and said authoritatively, “It is quite possible that they departed because Mr. Darcy, nephew to my esteemed patroness, is required to return to London in order to spend time with his noble relations. Of course, I do not know for certain, but the Earl of Matlock generally spends the Christmas season in Town. Indeed, I believe that Lady Catherine herself journeys to visit her relatives in some years, though naturally only if her magnificent estate of Rosings is well. She is a most attentive mistress of the estate, you know! Why I remember…”

Elizabeth kept her gaze on her plate and forced herself to keep silent. Mr. Collins was – not to put too fine a point on it – a boring fool, but as a guest of the house, it would be discourteous to interrupt. More importantly, she had refused Mr. Collins’s offer of marriage only a few days previously, and Mrs. Bennet was still inclined to scold her for it at every opportunity. Thus, Elizabeth was inclined to keep more silent than usual to avoid her mother’s notice.

“No one cares particularly what Mr. Darcy does,” Lydia finally interrupted, shaking her dark curls. “It is Mr. Bingley who matters!”

Mr. Collins looked appalled at these words, but Mrs. Bennet said, “Yes, indeed, you are quite right, my dear. Not that I wish to chase Mr. Darcy away, of course, but it is reasonable that he would want to spend the winter in Town with his highborn relatives. But I do not see why the Bingley ladies are leaving as well! What if Mr. Bingley decides to stay in Town as well? Oh, it makes me quite nervous and poorly when things like this happen!”

Elizabeth, now silently eating her soup, happened to shift her gaze at this moment and observed Sally, one of the maids, look up at Mrs. Bennet’s words, her face bright, her mouth open, before the girl seemed to recollect that it was not in any way appropriate for a young servant to speak at the family’s dinner.

“Sally, do you have news?” Elizabeth asked, which caused everyone to look at the maid, including her father who had been silently eating, his eyes faraway as if he was thinking about a book, which indeed he probably was.

“Erm, yes, Miss Elizabeth,” the maid said, blushing brightly. “I was sent to Meryton today on an errand, and my cousin, who is a maid at Netherfield, was at the shop buying bandages and the like. Miss Bingley tripped over a hog this morning and broke her ankle. None of them are leaving Netherfield!”

This had the remarkable effect of silencing the entire Bennet family for a full ten seconds, and then Lydia laughed loudly as she cried out, “She fell over a pig! Oh, how funny!”

“It is not funny at all, Lydia,” Jane said sternly. “A broken ankle is a serious thing!”

“It is,” Elizabeth agreed, forcing herself to keep her expression grave. Inwardly, she found it quite amusing; not that Miss Bingley had hurt herself, but that she had fallen over a pig.

“So the ladies are staying at Netherfield!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, focusing on the most important fact. “How wonderful!”

/

Netherfield Hall

Midnight

The road to Netherfield Hall, a dark mound some mile distant, was bathed in silver. The moon above, almost as round as a coin, shone brightly, nearly unobscured by the thin wisps of cloud that drifted across it. A lonely sound floated across the deserted fields and path, as an owl called somewhere off in the distance.

It was midnight now, or thereabouts, and the fields had been empty of their workers for some hours. The majority of the laborers went to bed shortly after sunset, and in any case, it was a cold night to be riding. Bingley shivered and turned up the collar of his wool greatcoat to better protect his neck against the nighttime chill.

The express from Meryton had arrived just as Charles was sitting down to his dinner. He had read in dismay the news that Caroline had fallen and hurt herself badly enough to forbid her moving from Netherfield. He had given orders for his horse to be made ready and finished his meal in haste before departing that very evening. He had taken time only to scrawl a letter to his man of business, informing the solicitor of Bingley’s hasty departure. Originally the plan had been for Bingley to spend several more days in Town, but his conscience would not permit him to stay with his younger sister injured.

Jane Bennet’s glorious face rose in his mind, and he sighed dreamily. That was another reason for returning to Netherfield quickly, as he had greatly missed the angelic lady during his short time in Town. Her kindness and gentleness had entirely captured a heart first arrested by her incredible beauty. Now, Bingley could think only of having her by his side for the rest of their lives, and he intended to speak to her father about it as soon as possible.

Despite the late hour, a light shone through the stable window, and at his approach, the door opened. A stable boy came out to meet him, alert enough to show he had not been dozing.

“Rub him down well,” Bingley ordered, swinging out of the saddle onto the hard ground.

“Of course, sir,” the young man replied, guiding the gray toward a stall.

Bingley exited the stable quickly and walked down the lane toward the front door of Netherfield. He hoped the door was not yet locked for the night; if so, he would have to pound on the knocker. At any rate, it felt good to stretch his limbs after several hours of hard riding.

To his relief, the door was opened promptly by a footman, and a moment later, Darcy stepped into view. “Bingley! I did not expect you to arrive tonight!”

“I thought about waiting until the morning, but I was worried about Caroline. How is she?”

“She is well enough, though her ankle is probably broken.”

“I would like to hear all the details, but it can wait until tomorrow. I need to refresh myself.”

“I find myself quite awake, Bingley. I would be glad to wait in the library if you like.”

Bingley laughed and nodded. “I daresay you could spend the night in the library, even if it is not particularly well stocked. Yes, I would appreciate that. I will be as quick as I can be.”

/

The Library

Later

“Mr. Jones says that it is either broken or badly sprained, and that she will likely be seriously bruised on the morrow, but she should recover fully in time,” Darcy finished.

Bingley, who had been listening to his friend’s recitation of the day’s events with growing bewilderment, demanded, “I am glad of that, but Darcy, why were you and my sisters returning to Town? You said nothing when I left only yesterday morning about wishing to be in London!”

Darcy swallowed hard, and he looked almost nervous. A moment later, his countenance took on its accustomed expression of command, and he said, “We made the decision last night to return to Town.”

“Why?”

“Because we are worried about your attachment to Miss Jane Bennet.”

Bingley stared at him incredulously for a long moment and then demanded, “What?”

Darcy swallowed again, lifted his chin, and repeated, “We are worried about your attachment to Miss Bennet. Are you aware that the locals who constitute the gentry of this area believe that you will make her an offer of marriage?”

Bingley felt an odd desire to slink away to bed without answering, but he forced himself to say, “And would that be such a dreadful thing?”

Darcy regarded him with obvious concern. “So you are planning to make an offer to Miss Bennet?”

“Why should I not?” the younger man demanded defensively. “She is beautiful, charming, elegant, and quite the kindest woman I have ever met. I am in love with her.”

Darcy suppressed a moan of exasperation and said, “While I do not disagree about her many positive attributes, Miss Bennet’s connections are poor, given that her mother is the daughter of a solicitor. She is not the sort of bride for a man who wishes to improve his position in society.”

Bingley, to his amazement, felt a surge of genuine anger at these words.

“And what if I do not care about rising higher in the society?” he demanded resentfully. “That is my sisters’ desire, certainly, but I am not ambitious like they are. Furthermore, I wish to marry a gentlewoman whom I genuinely admire and love and who loves me in return! Now despise me if you like!”

Darcy looked startled, and then his brow settled into creases of disapproval. “Even if you do not concern yourself with Miss Bennet’s connections, what of her near family? Her mother and three younger sisters, and occasionally even her father, behave with a total want of propriety. Surely you do not want to marry a woman whose relations will doubtless bring shame upon the Bingley name?”

Bingley stared at him in wonder and shook his head. “I did not realize how much you dislike the Bennets, Darcy.”

Darcy frowned uneasily and said, “I do not dislike all of them…”

“So you approve of Miss Bennet, but loathe the rest of the family?”

Now his friend looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I find Miss Elizabeth Bennet a thoroughly charming woman, along with being very intelligent.”

“But not handsome enough to tempt you,” Bingley said drily. “Well, with all due respect, my old friend, I am not inclined to trust your assessment of the Bennets, given that you formed a profound dislike of the family within minutes of meeting them.”

“Not handsome enough…?” Darcy repeated in a puzzled tone.

“That is what you said about Miss Elizabeth at the ball in Meryton, where we first met the Bennets. Do you not remember? I suggested that you dance with her, and you said ‘She is tolerable but not handsome enough to temptme, and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.’”

To Bingley’s surprise and satisfaction, Darcy rocked back on his heels. “Did I truly say that?”

“Of course you did!” Bingley said, exasperated. “And very rude it was, too, especially in the lady’s hearing!”

Now Darcy looked ill. “You believe she heard me?”

Bingley cast his eyes heavenward and said, “Of course she did! You were nearby, and your voice carries. I think it should be obvious she dislikes you as much as you despise her, given that she argues with you almost every time you are in company.”

Darcy now looked absolutely dumbfounded. “I … I…”

“Darcy,” Bingley interrupted, suddenly filled with determination, “I appreciate your friendship and your perspective, and I will contemplate your warnings, but I am my own man. I will marry Miss Bennet if I wish. Now I am exhausted, and doubtless tomorrow will be tiring as well. I am off to seek my bed.”

Darcy shook his head and said feebly, “But do you not think that you ought to return to Town while you consider your future path? I fear that Miss Bennet’s presence will prove a great temptation…”

“Let us speak tomorrow,” Bingley interrupted again, and then added, “I forgot to tell you that I am most grateful for your assistance today. I know that Louisa is no good in a crisis, and I daresay Caroline was very upset.”

“It was my honor,” Darcy replied in a distracted tone.