“Of course.” Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm at the memory of being held by Mr. Darcy as they rode home and then when he had carried her. She would not have believed a few trips up and down a slope could do her in as they had, but she had been so anxious for Jane, so afraid that she would not be able to help her sister, and it had been so cold and wet . . .
Which led to her next problem in the shape of a tall, broad former officer. Mr. Darcy had picked her up as though she weighed no more than the air. He had made her feel comforted, cared for, safe. It was not something she was used to, really, having someone be strong for her when she was weak. Usually, Elizabeth was strong for everyone else. She could never allow herself to be weak, at least, not since Mama and Harry died.
Well, there it was. She liked Mr. Darcy. No sense in denying it. But what was she to do with that knowledge?
He was not interested, she reminded herself fiercely. He would be in London in another month, meeting many of the wealthiest, most beautiful, most eligible women in the country, and short of those who were members of the peerage, he would likely have his choice. At least until they discovered he had given over half his income to his cousin. That he had only strengthened her esteem for him—and five thousand a year with an old family name and a large estate still placed him beyond her reach. Oh, how she wished they had met when he was only an officer!
Even without the lure of London and the possibility of making a fine match with a more suitable woman of fortune, she could not have done herself any good in his eyes last night. Mary had made her stand in a washing tub to scrub all the mud off before she could even step into a proper tub, and he had seen her, escorted her even, whilst she was in that terrible state. She did not wish to think about what he must have thought of her. He had called her brave, it was true, but he had also called her foolish.
Also true.
Elizabeth would do it all again without thought, of course. Jane had needed her. That was what she must cling to, not the inconvenient feelings that were growing in her heart for the enormous, rough, strangely gentle man who would be in London for the season and then in Derbyshire, nearly three days away from Longbourn. He would leave, and she would not see him again unless he deigned to visit with Papa. She must steel herself to it.
When she was ready, she knocked on Jane’s door and entered.
“Lizzy!” cried her sister, who was sitting up in her bed. “Come, let me see you.”
Elizabeth set down the book she had brought with her and went to her sister’s side. She stood for inspection whilst she quietly examined Jane. Her sister had a large bruise on one side of her face that was darkening to blue, and one wrist was bound with bandages.
“Dare I ask how you feel this morning?” Elizabeth inquired.
“A great deal better now that I see my foolishness has not injured you or made you ill,” Jane replied, and indeed, she appeared relieved.
“Yourfoolishness?” Elizabeth asked with some surprise. “Did you contrive the two foxes fighting in the road last night?”
“No,” Jane said, shaking her head solemnly. “I am foolish because I ought to have requested to remain at Netherfield overnight. I knew that the rain had been heavy and might make the roads difficult to travel, but I did not wish to make myself a nuisance.”
“As if you could ever be a nuisance,” Elizabeth scoffed. “You were there by Miss Bingley’s invitation, Jane. She ought to have known to invite you to remain overnight.” To be fair, Elizabeth had herself considered the woman’s inexperience in country matters, but given the outcome, she was less willing to forgive.
“She could not have known.”
“That may be true,” Elizabeth responded. “She might not have known. That does not mean she ought to have sent you on your way. Miss Bingley was your hostess. She might have inquired of the staff, or simply gazed outside.”
“The rain did not begin in earnest until we were away,” Jane said, shaking her head.
That was not entirely correct. There had been a great deal of rain not long after Jane departed in the carriage and there had been more on and off throughout the evening.
Jane changed the topic. “I am pleased to hear that Mr. Tobias is as well as we can expect. Papa has said that he is currently being coddled by his wife and daughter. He shall have however long he needs to recover, and Papa will still pay his wage. Mr. Todd will take his place for now.” She patted Elizabeth’s hand. “Mrs. Tobias was very grateful that you found her husband. He is not a young man and being left out all night might have made him very ill indeed.”
“It was entirely by chance,” Elizabeth told her. “I heard him moan only after we had recovered you. It was so dark, and he was so deep in the mud that I might have missed him again had he not made a sound.” She shook her head. “I am sorry to say that I had presumed he had been thrown over the side. I did not give him much thought whilst you remained in such peril.”
“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane said compassionately, “you did everything you could. Even Papa said as much.”
“I have yet to see Papa. Was he very angry with me? I did not obey him when he arrived, but events were too far gone, I fear.”
Jane smiled. “He said you were already asleep when he stopped by your chamber last night. I suppose he will speak to you when he arrives home, but I believe he admires you, dearest. As do we all.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks warmed. If only that were true. “Thank you, Jane. Now, would you like me to read to you?”
“I would,” Jane replied. “What have you brought me?”
“Sonnets,” Elizabeth said teasingly. “Perhaps you might close your eyes and imagine thoughtless Miss Bingley’s dashing brother reading them to you instead.”
“Lizzy!” Jane said reprovingly.
“Did you know that Mr. Bingley helped rescue Mr. Tobias?”
Jane’s sigh was inexpressibly tender. “Truly?”