Chapter 15

"L izzy, my dear, what are you doing here? What happened?" her father asked with concern.

"Miss Lizzy is ill," John explained. "I am going to ask Hill to take her up some water and tea."

"Come and sit a moment, my dear," Mr Bennet said, taking her arm.

"I am well, Papa. Do not worry. I am only tired." She tried step back, but her father gently pulled her into the library, and Mr Darcy hurried to fetch a chair so she could sit.

"Your mother has guests, and we barely managed to escape from there," Mr Bennet explained, in an obviously good disposition. "We have already had too much to drink, but we are celebrating your sister's engagement. I believe everybody will stay for dinner."

"How lovely. Unfortunately, I cannot join you. I would rather rest till morning."

"Miss Elizabeth looks truly ill," Mr Darcy interjected. "Perhaps the apothecary should be fetched."

"Mr Darcy is right. You look flushed, Lizzy. I believe you have a fever. I can feel it," Mr Bennet said, touching her forehead. "I shall send for Mr Jones."

"There is no need to disturb Mr Jones for a headache," Elizabeth replied. "Please do not worry about me. I shall be well. Hill will make me some tea, and I shall be recovered by tomorrow."

She glanced at Mr Darcy and noticed his frowning, disapproving expression. Her father, however, was easily convinced by her words.

"As you wish, Lizzy. I know you have rarely been ill your entire life. You know," Mr Bennet winked at her, "your mother believes you are just upset that your sister and your best friend will marry, and you will remain a spinster, as she has often warned you."

Elizabeth forgot to breathe, looking at her father, incapable of speaking.

"Papa, are you amusing yourself at my expense? This is quite upsetting, indeed."

"We were only joking, Lizzy. You know how your mother is. We certainly did not take her in earnest. I am proud of you for dismissing my cousin, and I am amused that Charlotte Lucas, who I believed was a wise woman, proved to be the opposite."

"Such jokes are in poor taste, Papa."

"They are, I agree. Forgive me," Mr Bennet said, kissing her forehead. "I am proud that my daughter would rather be a spinster than marry someone she cannot respect."

"I am sure Miss Bennet will not be a spinster," Lord Matlock interjected joyfully. "She is one of the most intriguing and charming young women I have ever met. Once she meets more eligible young men, I am sure she will have many suitors. I am certain my son will be enchanted as soon as they meet. Even Darcy — my fastidious nephew — confessed he admires Miss Elizabeth, and he is not a man to speak nonsense."

Elizabeth had had enough. She stood up abruptly, trying to speak with less anger than she felt.

"Gentlemen, I find this conversation to be improper and tasteless. I do not need anyone to introduce me to eligible men. I have no desire to see anybody enchanted by me. It is not your concern to discuss my potential marriage and even less to make sport at my expense, even if you are my father's friends. Just as I do not discuss your marriage, Lord Matlock, nor Mr Darcy's engagement to Miss de Bourgh, nor do I ridicule any of them. Now please excuse me, I shall go to my room, and I hope nobody will disturb my rest."

The tirade — harsh and reprimanding — exhausted her, and although she tried to avoid looking his way, out of the corner of her eye she caught Mr Darcy's dumbfounded countenance. She quit the room and hurried her pace until she found shelter in her chamber. There, she threw herself on the bed and did not even realise her tears were falling until she felt the pillow become damp.

Elizabeth heard the door opening, steps, and then someone sitting on the bed. She still did not open her eyes.

"Lizzy, what on earth happened to you?" her father asked. "I understand you might be unwell and tired, but you cannot speak like that to Lord Matlock and Mr Darcy."

"I apologise, Papa," she replied, still hiding her face in the pillow.

"I hardly recognise you, Lizzy. We all knew your mother's claims were not true, and we were making sport of her — which was not fair either, I admit. That is why we left the drawing room — so as not to amuse ourselves in her presence. Nobody could believe that you were jealous of your sister or Charlotte Lucas. It was only a joke. A week ago, you would have easily understood and laughed with us."

"Perhaps. I am in a poor mood, Papa. I am sorry."

"I see there is not much I can say. You should know Mr Jones will arrive soon. Mr Darcy insisted he be fetched, and I admit he had good reason. Do you wish me to reprimand him for being worried for you? Should I banish him from Longbourn because he insisted you should be examined by the apothecary?"

"Papa, there is no need for so much mockery. I admitted my error and I apologised. Please tell Mr Darcy I thank him."

"I am disappointed in you, Lizzy. How could you throw accusations about his marriage in Henry's face when I specifically requested secrecy from you?"

"What do you mean, Papa? I only said that I do not discuss or make fun of his marriage with my friends! I shall explain that to him. Besides, you told me nothing about his marriage, or your past, at all, so there is nothing that I could reveal."

She finally turned to look at her father's worried face; he shook his head, apparently upset. More upset than she had seen him before.

"Something is happening to you, Lizzy. I hardly recognise you."

"I am sorry, Papa."

"Rest now. Mr Jones will arrive soon, and I look forward to hearing what he thinks."

"Papa…are Mr Darcy and Lord Matlock still here?"

"Everybody is still here — we shall have dinner together. We shall try hard to pretend nothing happened and to overlook your outburst."

"I shall come downstairs and apologise to Lord Matlock. And I shall come to dinner. I cannot miss the celebration of Jane's engagement."

"I honestly believe that is not a good idea, Lizzy. It would be best for you to stay in your room and rest. Hill will bring you something to eat. Your presence will only cause more questions from your mother, and I do not trust that you will properly respond to them."

Her father left, and his scolding placed a burden on Elizabeth's chest. He was right, of course. Her response had been silly, offensive, and hurtful because it had touched on some delicate matters that the two gentlemen were obviously trying to conceal. She could have just demanded they not jest about her marriage, and that would have been enough. The last part of her statement — the words and the tone — had been spiteful and wounding. She had taken dishonourable revenge for her suffering, which was her own fault.

Mr Jones arrived quickly, and his examination was short. He declared she had a cold, probably caught a few days ago, which had become worse. She suddenly recollected that circumstance; it must have been when she witnessed Mr Darcy's conversation with Mr Wickham, and her clothes had become wet and dirty. Then, her need for fresh air — which was likely due to a fever — and the window that had been widely opened, had caused her present illness.

"I shall leave you some medicine to take for a few days, and you should be well, Miss Lizzy. You have always been strong and healthy, even when you were an infant. Just promise you will send for me if you feel worse or have a high fever."

"I promise. I am sorry you were disturbed for a mere trifling cold."

"I am glad I was. I might have brought you some luck. Miss Jane had the same trifling cold last month. I went to treat her, and now she is engaged. Who would have guessed?"

"I shall consider myself lucky if I feel better soon. I expect nothing more from this cold," Elizabeth replied, trying to laugh.

Mr Jones left, Hill came with some medicine, which tasted terrible, then with some soup, and again with some tea. Jane also came to visit her twice, but Elizabeth pretended to be asleep. She heard the sound of voices and laughter from downstairs, but she followed her father's advice and remained in bed. She felt weak, her throat was sore, and her head ached.

She dozed, waking and drinking tea and medicine until the house finally fell into silence. She noticed Jane in her bed, observing her.

"How are you, dearest Lizzy?"

"Well enough for you not to worry. I am so sorry I missed your engagement party."

"I am sorry you felt unwell, Lizzy. As for my engagement, you have known about it since last night. We have plenty of time to celebrate."

"Yes, we do. I hope you had a pleasant dinner."

"Very much so. Uncle and Aunt Phillips were here too. Mrs Long also called, but she returned home before dinner. Everybody was happy! I am a little worried about what Caroline and Louisa think. Charles has not informed them yet. He said he was waiting for Papa's approval, and then he did not return to Netherfield until tonight."

"Their opinion should not ruin your felicity, Jane. The only opinion that should matter to you is Mr Bingley's."

"You are right, Lizzy. But still, I would like to have their approval. I am pleased that Mr Darcy and Lord Matlock have been so kind to me and to Charles. You know Lord Matlock invited us all to spend Christmas in London?"

"I did not know," Elizabeth answered, feeling another knot in her stomach.

"Yes. And…dear Lizzy, Charles said he will purchase a licence, and we can marry in Longbourn Church whenever I want! He said we could be married before Christmas if I wished. But nobody knows that yet. Could I dare have such a quick wedding? Or should I wait until after Christmas? Or after the New Year?"

Elizabeth laughed, which brought on a cough.

"My dear, Mr Bingley said it was your decision. So you should sleep and reflect more upon it tomorrow when you are rested. He can purchase the licence in any case, and you have time to decide before he returns."

"True."

"Did they say when they would leave?" Elizabeth enquired, fearing the answer.

"In three days. At the end of the month. Charles said he will return in a week."

"And Papa wishes us to spend Christmas in London?"

"That is what he told us. I am not sure whether the plans are settled yet," Jane replied. "Mr Bingley said he would agree on anything as long as he is allowed to spend Christmas with us. Oh, Lizzy, what have I done to deserve the affection of such a good man?"

"You have done nothing but be yourself, my dear. Now let us sleep."

Despite all the tea and medicine, Elizabeth could not fall asleep again. She did not feel unwell, only restless. She knew she would have to find an honourable way to apologise to Lord Matlock and to Mr Darcy as they would likely be part of her life for many years to come.

With Lord Matlock it would be easy to talk, even in her father's presence. As she said, her spiteful remark had revealed no secrets; it would be easy to explain.

But what could she say to Mr Darcy about her sudden interest in his engagement? She would appear ridiculous in front of him, and perhaps she deserved that. If only she could meet him on her usual solitary walk, it would be easier to talk to him privately. But she was barely capable of leaving her bed, so a long walk was out of the question.