Read Online One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy by Diana J Oaks - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Diana J Oaks
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next morning, Elizabeth was concerned to find that Jane still could not sit upright or stand for more than a few moments before she was overcome with dizziness and had to lie down, and that her headache was still severe. Elizabeth related this information to Mr. Bingley at breakfast, and he immediately sent for Mr. Jones to return to Netherfield to consult on the situation.
In the meantime, Mrs. Bennet had become increasingly distraught that there had been no news from Netherfield regarding Jane's condition. She set out to learn for herself how Jane was doing, in spite of a weak protestation from Mr. Bennet that “No news is good news.” Mrs. Bennet flitted about, urging Mary, Kitty and Lydia to hurry, for they were coming too. As much as she wanted to see Jane, she had grown accustomed to the escort of her daughters wherever she went. They served as a balm to her poor nerves; it would not do to make the visit alone.
Elizabeth was in Jane's room when their mother swept in, her younger sisters in tow. They stood around patiently as Mrs. Bennet fussed and stewed over Jane, plucking at her bedcovers as she repeatedly crooned, “My poor Jane. What is to become of you?” Elizabeth's attempts to console her mother were met with stinging remarks about ineptitude in caring for Jane and how wrong it was that Elizabeth had been selected in place of her own mother.
Jane assured their mother that Elizabeth's ministrations had been nothing short of perfect and that she felt significant improvement was nearly upon her, which eventually satisfied Mrs. Bennet. It was at this point that Mr. Jones arrived and after examining Jane, declared that she must remain in bed for at least three more days. He produced an elixir designed to relieve Jane's dizziness to some degree and left it, along with additional instructions for Jane's care.
Afterwards, Mrs. Bennet, with a train of daughters dutifully following behind her, called upon Mr. Bingley and his sisters in the drawing room. She enthusiastically complimented his living arrangements, and asserted, with the confidence bestowed by Mr. Jones' recommendation, that they must trespass on Mr. Bingley's hospitality for at least three more days.
Mr. Bingley heartily agreed to continue as host, for he was most happy to oblige and very pleased that he could be of assistance and offer Jane the comforts of his home during her convalescence. Miss Bingley half-heartedly assured Mrs. Bennet that Jane would receive the best of care while Mrs. Hurst nodded and Mr. Hurst snored.
Mr. Darcy had turned to the window nearly as soon as they had entered the room. He gazed silently at the glass during the entire conversation, turning his attentions back to the room only in time to bid farewell to Mrs. Bennet and her three youngest daughters.
Elizabeth had noted his seeming affection for the glazing on several previous occasions with increasing curiosity. She wondered if it was the prospect beyond the glass he enjoyed, or if the view served as some form of escape. Nearly as soon as her family had left, Mr. Darcy had excused himself and quit the room; so Elizabeth, curious as to what had held his attention for so long, took the opportunity to peer outside from the same vantage point that Mr. Darcy had occupied.
The view, she was surprised to find, was not in any way spectacular; in fact, owing to a cover of clouds, it looked rather gray and gloomy. Just as she was mentally convicting Mr. Darcy of using the outdoors as a poor excuse to be unsociable, the sun passed behind a thick cluster of clouds, maximizing the window's reflective properties, which she had not until that moment noticed. She saw, most clearly detailed in the window, the reflection of the chair that she herself had been sitting on. She gasped audibly at her discovery, wondering what it could mean.
“It is a beautiful view, is it not?” Mr. Darcy had re-entered the room and now stood behind her at a barely proper distance. Elizabeth
In the meantime, Mrs. Bennet had become increasingly distraught that there had been no news from Netherfield regarding Jane's condition. She set out to learn for herself how Jane was doing, in spite of a weak protestation from Mr. Bennet that “No news is good news.” Mrs. Bennet flitted about, urging Mary, Kitty and Lydia to hurry, for they were coming too. As much as she wanted to see Jane, she had grown accustomed to the escort of her daughters wherever she went. They served as a balm to her poor nerves; it would not do to make the visit alone.
Elizabeth was in Jane's room when their mother swept in, her younger sisters in tow. They stood around patiently as Mrs. Bennet fussed and stewed over Jane, plucking at her bedcovers as she repeatedly crooned, “My poor Jane. What is to become of you?” Elizabeth's attempts to console her mother were met with stinging remarks about ineptitude in caring for Jane and how wrong it was that Elizabeth had been selected in place of her own mother.
Jane assured their mother that Elizabeth's ministrations had been nothing short of perfect and that she felt significant improvement was nearly upon her, which eventually satisfied Mrs. Bennet. It was at this point that Mr. Jones arrived and after examining Jane, declared that she must remain in bed for at least three more days. He produced an elixir designed to relieve Jane's dizziness to some degree and left it, along with additional instructions for Jane's care.
Afterwards, Mrs. Bennet, with a train of daughters dutifully following behind her, called upon Mr. Bingley and his sisters in the drawing room. She enthusiastically complimented his living arrangements, and asserted, with the confidence bestowed by Mr. Jones' recommendation, that they must trespass on Mr. Bingley's hospitality for at least three more days.
Mr. Bingley heartily agreed to continue as host, for he was most happy to oblige and very pleased that he could be of assistance and offer Jane the comforts of his home during her convalescence. Miss Bingley half-heartedly assured Mrs. Bennet that Jane would receive the best of care while Mrs. Hurst nodded and Mr. Hurst snored.
Mr. Darcy had turned to the window nearly as soon as they had entered the room. He gazed silently at the glass during the entire conversation, turning his attentions back to the room only in time to bid farewell to Mrs. Bennet and her three youngest daughters.
Elizabeth had noted his seeming affection for the glazing on several previous occasions with increasing curiosity. She wondered if it was the prospect beyond the glass he enjoyed, or if the view served as some form of escape. Nearly as soon as her family had left, Mr. Darcy had excused himself and quit the room; so Elizabeth, curious as to what had held his attention for so long, took the opportunity to peer outside from the same vantage point that Mr. Darcy had occupied.
The view, she was surprised to find, was not in any way spectacular; in fact, owing to a cover of clouds, it looked rather gray and gloomy. Just as she was mentally convicting Mr. Darcy of using the outdoors as a poor excuse to be unsociable, the sun passed behind a thick cluster of clouds, maximizing the window's reflective properties, which she had not until that moment noticed. She saw, most clearly detailed in the window, the reflection of the chair that she herself had been sitting on. She gasped audibly at her discovery, wondering what it could mean.
“It is a beautiful view, is it not?” Mr. Darcy had re-entered the room and now stood behind her at a barely proper distance. Elizabeth
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