Chapter 11

A s Elizabeth had slept so many hours during the day, she was having a hard time trying to sleep that night. Jane had insisted Elizabeth not sit up with her through the night, thanks to her beginning to feel better. Elizabeth decided she needed something boring to read. To that end she tied her dressing gown tightly around her and slipped her feet into the pair of warm slippers which had arrived with the trunk from Longbourn.

If she was not concerned she would wake up Jane, she would have gone to check on her sister again. The last time she had done that, Jane had told her checking close to ten times to make sure she was well would suffice, hence that was not an option for her to pass the time.

Elizabeth cracked the door from her bedchamber leading into the hallway. She looked both ways. Other than a footman stationed further down from her door, as she expected so close to midnight, she saw no one else. Candle in hand, she slipped out and made her way to the stairs, and then padded down them silently. Louisa had told her where the library was but had warned her the shelves were largely empty so the selections were sparse.

If Elizabeth could find some treatise on agriculture, she was sure it would put her to sleep. When she reached the base of the grand staircase, she nodded to the footman on duty in the entrance hall, turned towards the master's study, and then pushed the door in the alcove open, which was to the right of the study. It gave a little creak as it opened. Strangely enough there were candles alight within .

Darcy had been reading in the library—one of his own books as his friend was not a reader and had almost nothing worth reading—when he had dropped off to sleep on the settee against the one wall of the room. He had left his jacket and waistcoat in his chambers, so although his cravat was in place, his upper body was only covered by his shirt. The creak of the door woke him with a start. He could not imagine who would be in the library in the middle of the night.

That was when he saw a vision of beauty. Miss Elizabeth entered the room, a candle in hand and besides the fact she looked delectable, she looked confused. Of course, Darcy realised she had not expected to find candles lit, hence the candle she had with her. He cleared his throat to alert her to his presence.

The unexpected noise caused Elizabeth to freeze in place. She could hear her heart beating in her ears from the fright of encountering someone here. She could only pray it was not him .

"Miss Elizabeth, I did not think anyone else would seek the solitude of the library at this time of the night," Darcy said as he stood.

Not only was it Mr Darcy in the library with her, but like the previous time she had almost run into him, he was in an indecent state of undress, and she was able to clearly see the shape of his torso thanks to the candles flickering behind him. Her traitorous mind told her what a fine specimen of a man he was.

"I did not imagine I would see anyone here at this time, especially not you," Elizabeth spat out. She knew she was being impolite, but given their relative states of dress, she could not help herself. She began to turn.

"If I may, there is something I must say to you…" Darcy stopped as she glared at him. He had thought to use this rare opportunity of having her a captive audience to beg her pa rdon. But she interjected.

"Mr Darcy, neither of us is dressed for discourse. Good night, Sir." Elizabeth turned, and fled back the way she had come, running until she reached her bedchamber. She almost slammed the door, but stopped herself at the last moment. She quickly turned the key and leaned back against the door breathing heavily waiting for her fluttering heart to slow down to a normal rate.

Until she met this man, she had never been so confused. How could she feel an attraction when all she wanted to do was disdain the man? And how did her maxim about her courage always rising fit with the way she had bolted from the library full of fear.

Rather than look for the reasons behind these dichotomies, Elizabeth added everything to the growing list of things she held against Mr Darcy.

All Darcy could do was stand where he was and scratch his head. Yes, neither of them was dressed as propriety demanded, but he had never repulsed anyone before, however, it seemed Miss Elizabeth was indeed repulsed by him. Had his ill-advised and completely fallacious words at the assembly doomed any chance of him making her his wife?

More confounding was how was he to deliver an apology if the infuriating woman would not allow him to speak to her? Being that he was awake, he made his way to his own chambers.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Miss Caroline Maleficent Bingley sat on her bed counting the seconds as the time approached one o'clock. Everything was ready. She was wearing her orange—of course—diaphanous, silk nightrail. It was currently covered by her dressing gown, but she planned to drop that item of clothing on the floor in the servants' passageway just before she entered Mr Darcy's suite .

She lifted the page with the diagram Kindle had given her and once more studied the route she needed to follow. With her finger, she traced the way again, as she had many times since she had received it from her maid. It was already committed to her memory, but one more time would not hurt. Although servants usually used tallow candles to move about on their way to or from their betters' chambers, Miss Bingley would not allow herself to suffer the awful smell of a tallow candle; that was going too far for her. It was bad enough she had to walk on the same boards where only servants normally did. Like the servants did, she would leave the candle in a holder before she opened the door, which would lead her to where she wanted to be, and finally get her due.

When the clock on the mantle above the fire indicated five minutes before the hour, Miss Bingley could wait no longer. She checked herself in the full-length mirror in the walk-in closet and was happy with what she saw. She had debated wearing a turban to hold some of her fashionable orange dyed feathers, but she decided no one would believe she had been in Mr Darcy's bed for some time with feathers still in place.

Before she opened the servants' door to her chambers, she made sure the vial of pig's blood she needed was in the pocket of her gown. If she was to claim Mr Darcy deflowered her, there needed to be some visual evidence. The drops of blood had already been sprinkled on her thighs, so all was ready. Kindle had earned a further five pound bank note for acquiring the vial of blood for her.

As she was positive no servants would be in the passageways at this time, Miss Bingley pulled the door open and entered. There was a little silvery light from the moon and stars shining through the one or two high windows she could see. Just like the diagram, which was etched in her mind, she turned to the right and began to walk. She saw the staircase which had been represented on the page. The anticipation built once she had passed the stairs, as she counted off one, two, and then she stopped at the third door on her right.

The candleholder was where she expected it to be, so she forced the beeswax candle into the receptacle. Before extinguishing the candle, she removed the vial of blood from her pocket. As she would not return this way ever again, she shrugged out of her dressing gown, and allowed it to pool at her feet. Next, she slipped her feet out of her slippers. Once she felt ready, Miss Bingley blew towards the flame, it flickered and died. Her hand was on the door handle before the almost blackness descended on her.

As slowly as she was able, she pushed the door open. Thankfully these doors were kept well-oiled so as to not disturb the occupants when maids slipped in and out to bank fires or build them up.

The interior of the room was in pitch-darkness thanks to the heavy curtains being drawn and well shut. Caroline took a few steps and then one of her feet caught on something and she felt herself falling forward. Instinctually she threw her hands in front of herself to break her fall, allowing the vial to fly out of her hand. Before she fell onto what could only be the form of a human, she heard the vial shatter against the floor or a piece of furniture. Thank goodness some drops were on her thighs.

"Bloody hell! Who is attacking me?" a voice, certainly not Mr Darcy's rang out.

Darcy stood, took the taper next to his bed, walked to the fire, lit it, and then commenced lighting candles. If he was not so angry at the harridan, he would have been guffawing seeing her lying spread across poor Carstens wearing a night gown which, unfortunately, left nothing to the imagination. After all of the times she had been told he would never submit to a compromise, the woman still made the attempt.

Darcy was at the door leading into the hallway in two steps. He unlocked and opened the door. The footman was standing where Darcy expected him to be. "Please summon the master and mistress as soon as may be," he requested. The man, who had heard the commotion in the suite, was off in a flash.

Miss Bingley was still trying to understand why she was lying across Mr Darcy's valet, and what the damned man was doing in Mr Darcy's bedchamber anyway?

The very indignant valet squirmed out from under the shrew who had just made an inept attempt at compromising his master. He stood and walked over to where Mr Darcy was standing. "What was the noise of breaking glass?" Darcy enquired of his man.

Carstens looked around and saw the light of the candles reflecting on some glass near the one wall. On the wall was a little red liquid dripping down. "Against the wall," the valet pointed.

Just then Bingley, Hurst, and Mrs Hurst entered the bedchamber. "Darce, are you well?" Bingley verified.

Darcy cocked his head to the pallet where his valet had been sleeping before he had been awakened rudely. "Caroline, what the blazes are you doing in Mr Darcy's bedchamber and why are you not covered up?" Mrs Hurst demanded. She pulled the coverlet off the bed and threw it over her sister, who was only now standing.

"Mr Darcy took my virtue! He compromised me, so we are engaged," Miss Bingley attempted to salvage the situation. Derisive laughter was not what she had expected.

"So, this all occurred with Darcy's man sleeping in the room?" Hurst queried when he ceased laughing.

Darcy pointed to the still open servants' door. "Miss Bingley, you stole into my chambers a few minutes ago via that door. As you were unaware my valet was sleeping on a pallet near it, you tripped over him. Never were you near to me, but even had you made it to me, and you had been witnessed by the Queen and the Regent, I still would not have offered for you. How many times have you been informed I would never submit to a compromise? And more than that, you are the last woman in the world I would ever marry! In fact, had you been the last woman alive, and the fate of humanity depended on our union, even then I would not marry or touch you. You disgust me and I have ever only tolerated you due to my friendship with your brother."

Miss Bingley was about to attempt to garner sympathy with forced, false tears when she saw Miss Elizabeth at the door in the hall. "This is all your fault! Before you distracted him, he would have offered for me!" Miss Bingley screeched as she ran towards the woman she hated; her nails bared to scratch out her eyes.

She did not get close to Elizabeth before Bingley and Hurst grabbed and subdued the crazed woman. It seemed her dreams turning to ash before her eyes had pushed her over the line between sanity and madness.

The noise Miss Bingley had made had brought all four duty footmen to the hallway outside of the suite. "My sister is to be restrained as humanely as possible. As soon as I am able to travel, I will be taking my sister to be examined by doctors for their opinion of her mental state," Bingley stated.

He did not have to say where his sister was headed as it was clear to all. Bethlem Royal Hospital would not be where he would send her, however, a humane, private sanatorium would be sought for her long-term care. Even as she was now, Caroline was still his baby sister and he would see her well cared for.

Two large footmen lifted Miss Bingley and with the mistress giving them instructions she was taken to a windowless room which had a bed and could be locked from without.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~ ~

Elizabeth slipped back into her bedchamber. She had not been able to sleep and all of the commotion had drawn her to the source of the noise. She still did not like him, but she found she could sympathise with Mr Darcy. She was sure he, like most people she knew, would be loathe to be forced to marry someone not of his own choice.

The maid who was sitting with Jane for the night opened the door leading to the shared sitting room. "Is Miss Bennet well?" Elizabeth worried.

"She has some fever, but not anything like last night, Miss Elizabeth. It is all of the goings-on which woke her. Miss Bennet is asking if you are well."

It took no time to cross the sitting room and enter Jane's bedchamber. "Lizzy what was all of that great hullabaloo I heard? It was not connected to you, was it?" Jane worried.

"No Janey, I was but a bystander. Miss Bingley…" Elizabeth told Jane what she knew, which admittedly was not that much, but she had heard Mr Darcy's speech so she had extrapolated from that. "Thankfully Mr Bingley and Mr Hurst stopped her before she reached me to punish me with her nails. The woman is insane. I think Mr Bingley is to have her put in an institution for the mentally unstable."

"Not Bedlam! Surely, he would not have Miss Bingley committed there, even if the patients are no longer treated like wild animals on display," Jane shook her head sadly.

"I know not, but I do not believe he would place her there," Elizabeth assured her tender-hearted sister. "I am sure we will find out more when Mr Bingley or Louisa is willing to tell us. Are you sad Mr Bingley is to go away for some days when the roads are dry enough and the bridge usable?"

"How can I think of myself and my feelings at a time like this? I do not envy Mr Bingley for what he must do. He will return when he is able, of that I have no doubt," Jane asserted. They had not declared their feelings one for the other, but Jane knew she was falling in love with Mr Bingley, and she strongly suspected he returned her feelings.

"With the excitement in the house it will not be easy, but try to sleep Janey, you need more of it to make a full recovery." Elizabeth kissed her sister on her cheek and could feel what the maid had told her was correct. The fever was higher than the evening, but not close to what it had been the previous night. She was well aware it would not be easy for her to fall asleep, but she nevertheless had to try. "I will see you in the morning. Well, I suppose it is morning already; so Janey, I will come to you then when it is light."

"Good night, Lizzy," Jane called.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

"Darce I am so sorry…" Bingley stopped when his friend held up his hand.

"You warned Miss Bingley, more than once. This is not your fault Bingley, so you have nought for which to apologise," Darcy insisted.

Once his sister had been situated, albeit still spilling vitriol and an expletive laced invective aimed at Miss Elizabeth, Bingley had come back to Darcy's suite. They were seated in the sitting room attached to it.

"That is true, yet I still feel responsible for her actions as the head of the Bingley family."

"If I may offer you some advice given to me by the Fitzwilliams." Bingley extended his hand, palm up for Darcy to proceed. "Do not take on yourself guilt which belongs to others."

Bingley knew his friend, or more to the point, the Fitzwilliams had the right of it, yet he still felt some guilt, and of course, much sadness. "Have you heard of any private sanatoriums where the patients are treated with dignity and respect? "

"In fact, it just so happens I have," Darcy recalled. "It is called The Sanctuary on the island of Jersey. It is used by members of the Ton who have to commit family members. From what I hear it is not cheap."

"Neither was paying for all of Caroline's extravagant overspending. It is not the way I would have liked to, but I am sure I will end up saving money," Bingley opined.

"I think we should attempt to get some sleep," Darcy suggested.

Bingley nodded, stood, and shook his friend's hand. He made the slow walk to his chambers trying to fathom what had gone so wrong with his younger sister.