Page 58 of Cousin Conundrum

In the end, Kitty told Jane all she’d overheard, even the bit about Jane being unsuitable. When she finished, they sat in silence for a long moment. Jane’s tears dried, and she scrubbed at her face with Kitty’s handkerchief.

Finally, she drew in a deep breath and, her expression quite determined, said, “What can we do?”

Kitty shook her head. “I do not know. Perhaps Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley can do something?”

“Perhaps.” Jane pursed her lips. “Mr. Bingley cannot marry a woman who trapped him so duplicitously.”

“Especially when he wants to marry you.”

Jane blushed. “We cannot know that.”

“Miss Bingley sounded rather certain and he gave no denial.”

But Jane shook her head. “I cannot think of that, or believe it. Not now. Perhaps not ever.” She swallowed convulsively.

Outside, voices rose, but in the morning room, remorse stabbed through Kitty. She should not have said anything that might make Jane cry. What could she say to make things better? “I will go look for that letter. I saw it go—”

A woman cried out. One who sounded like their mother. Kitty exchanged an alarmed look with Jane. Had Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley attempted something to extricate Mr. Bingley from his proposal? But why would that alarm Mrs. Bennet so? Mama sounded…frightened?

More voices rose, some shouting. Kitty popped up from the settee and hurried to the terrace door, Jane behind her. Flinging it open, Kitty took in Mr. Darcy mounting the terrace steps, soaked through, an equally sodden and unconscious Elizabeth in his arms, draped in his coat. Miss Archer hurried along behind him.

Ignoring the cries of worry and demands for an explanation surrounding him, Mr. Darcy strode for a pair of double doors in the center of the terrace. Realizing he meant to take Elizabeth in but wouldn’t be able to while holding her, Kitty raced out to yank open a door. Jane came around her to open the other, ensuring he had more than enough room to bring Elizabeth safely through.

Miss Archer barreled up in Mr. Darcy’s wake but with a very un-Jane-like glare, Jane stepped inside and jerked her half of the doors closed. Belatedly, Kitty moved to do the same, but Miss Archer darted forward.

Then skittered back as Miss Bingley strode out, giving no indication she would not trample Miss Archer if she remained in the way.

“I am afraid, in view of what appears to be a terrible accident, that the house is closed to all but residents and Miss Elizabeth’s mother and sisters.” Miss Bingley’s voice carried, loud and crisp, as if she meant her words for the entire gathering, but her eyes glared at Miss Archer. “Until Miss Elizabeth’s condition can be ascertained and requirements for her care set, please remain without. More refreshments will be brought.”

“But what happened?” someone called.

“You will know once we do.” Miss Bingley turned to her left, and Kitty followed her gaze to see her mother collapsed in a chair, fanning herself and sobbing. “Miss Lydia, please attend your mother. Louisa, see they receive anything they require.” She swung back to the pianoforte. “Miss Mary, if you would provide some music, I am certain everyone may return to enjoying their picnic.” Rounding on Kitty, Miss Bingley nodded and, arm out, ushered her through the door and inside.

Relief filled Kitty at being allowed in, along with gratitude for Miss Bingley keeping Miss Archer out. Looking down the wide hallway in which they stood, she saw Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth in his arms, already nearing a turn, Jane by his side.

Miss Bingley locked the terrace doors with an audible click, then turned to a wide-eyed maid. “Tell Mrs. Nicholls I want two men at every door. Only residents of this house and Bennets are permitted inside. Send for the local—” She broke off, pivoting to Kitty. “Who should be summoned?”

“The apothecary in Meryton. Mr. Jones.”

“Does he require a carriage?”

“He will ride,” Kitty assured her. Mr. Jones preferred a carriage be sent because of his medical bag, but as close as Netherfield Park was, Kitty thought he would concede to the urgency of arriving ahorse.

“Send a groom with an extra horse for Mr. Jones in Meryton,” Miss Bingley said to the maid.

“The apothecary shop on Main Street, a third of the way down with the green shopfront,” Kitty added, for she didn’t recognize the maid, and rumor had Mr. Bingley’s stable stocked with only a few local men.

“Off with you,” Miss Bingley said. “Mrs. Nicholls first, then the stable.”

The girl nodded and scurried away.

Miss Bingley set out after Mr. Darcy with rapid strides, directing more servants on her way, sending them running. She seemed not to care if she found a footman or a maid, if they carried foodstuffs for the terrace or simply peeked out of a room, interrupted in some task by the commotion. By the time she and Kitty drew near Mr. Darcy and Jane at the base of the front staircase, Miss Bingley had staff scurrying everywhere. Kitty darted a look at the other woman, impressed with her cool head and ability to make quick decisions.

Mr. Darcy started up the front staircase, Elizabeth held tightly to his chest. Almost, Kitty thought, as if he cared for her. Certainly, the lines of his face spoke of deep concern, not the sort of annoyance Kitty expected to see at having, insofar as she could guess, to haul Elizabeth from a body of water and carry her from the woods.

“The third door on the right, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley called as she and Kitty started up the steps behind him and Jane. “The door will be open. Maids should already be preparing the room.”

He nodded, not slowing his stride, but Jane looked over her shoulder and gave a grimacing sort of smile.