Page 7 of What to do with Fitzwilliam Darcy?

"I am a clumsy animal tonight," she said, chuckling to herself as another hiccup escaped.

"Miss Bennet," Mr Darcy said, "I really must insist. I would not like to see you unwell."

"I think you would. I think you would like to see me the most unwell. I think you would like to see me dead and buried, and that is the only thing that would bring a smile to your stupidly handsome face."

He stood at that, his voice rising. "How can you say such a thing, Elizabeth? Never speak of that again."

At this, Jane rose and hurried to Elizabeth's side, tugging her from the chair, but Elizabeth suddenly felt quite boneless and unequal to the task of standing.

"You take such care of me," she said, leaning heavily against her sister. "It is hard. Hard to stand, is it not? And then to walk. You know I am very, very fond of walking, but right now I cannot seem to get my legs to work."

"I have had quite enough of this," said Mr Darcy, throwing his napkin down onto the table.

He rounded it in a few long strides, gathered Elizabeth from her chair, settled her in his arms with a huff and strode off towards the hall. "Mrs Bingley," he called over his shoulder, "please advise me where Miss Bennet's chambers are so I may deposit her there."

The room and hall seemed to spin around her as Elizabeth nestled into his arms. She could hear Jane's worried tones somewhere behind them, but for now she felt quite sleepy and comfortable and could not rouse herself to care what was being said.

"You smell so lovely," she said, leaning closer to him and taking a deep inhale of his coat. "So, so lovely."

"Miss Bennet, please desist from sniffing me."

Elizabeth considered this. "No."

She brought one hand up and patted his chest. "It is all right, Mr Darcy. You will never have to see me again after the next few days. Do not worry your pretty little face about it."

His arms tightened around her almost imperceptibly and she closed her eyes and gave in to unconsciousness.

***

Jane Bingley flopped onto the bed she shared with her husband. Charles was already beneath the covers, but he was sitting back against the headboard, his eyes thoughtful and his mouth tightened into a concerned line. He reached out a hand and he moved across to rest her head against his bare chest and felt the reassuring thud of his heart beneath her cheek.

"Charles, my darling, I fear we have made a mess of things."

"I fear you are right, my angel. I am not sure tonight could have gone much worse. Not if I had arranged for a troop of elephants to walk directly through the centre of the dining table."

"What was my sister thinking? I have never seen her in a state like that before. I have never seen her so much as merry."

"She was drunk as a lord. She reminded me of a red-faced chap from the club who takes his first drink at ten in the morning and is still there, imbibing, and red-faced at eleven at night."

Jane sighed. "It is not like her, and it is my fault. We forced her into a situation where she felt so overwhelmed and cornered that she took what little escape the wine afforded her. Oh, she is going to feel wretched in the morning. And so embarrassed. And Mr Darcy... I have never seen him look so angry. Do you think he will stay on and help you with the purchase? Do you think he is packing his bags now?"

Charles sighed and kissed the top of his wife's head. "I do not think so, my angel. Darcy is honourable above all things, and he will stay on to help me with the purchase, but I fear he will be sorely vexed by this whole affair. It looked as though it caused him physical pain merely to see her, and that was before the wine started flowing."

He was quiet for a moment before tightening his arm around his wife. "I fear we are very much out of our depth, my love, and we must call in the cavalry."

Chapter Five

The cavalry arrived shortly after eleven the next morning, Charles having insisted on sending an express rider the night before. He had been restless since breakfast, rising every few minutes to look out of the window, and when the sound of carriage wheels finally came up the drive he was on his feet at once.

"They are here," he said, and Jane jumped up to his side to peer out of the glass.

A few minutes later Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the morning room with Georgiana beside him. Georgiana looked worried, her eyes moving over Jane and Charles as though she expected one of them to announce some terrible news. The colonel appeared less alarmed, his eyes curious and his mouth tilted upwards in a wry smile.

"Bingley," he said as he removed his gloves, "you wrote with such urgency that Georgiana has spent most of the journey imagining Darcy either mortally ill or running mad. Which is it?"

"Neither," said Charles. "At least, not exactly."

Colonel Fitzwilliam paused. "Well, that is reassuring!" He peered down on the tea tray. "Another spread to rival a royal palace, I see, madam."