Indisposed Read online

  Indisposed

  A Pride and Prejudice Novella

  Alix James

  Copyright © 2020 by Alix James

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For my husband, who treats me like his queen when I fall ill (which I am right now).

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Alix James

  Chapter 1

  “Bless you!”

  Elizabeth waved her hand at Jane, shaking her head as another sneeze threatened to overtake her. “Ah… ah…” She gasped, and the sensation passed, leaving her eyes watery and her nose ticklish.

  “Are you ill, Lizzy?” Jane rested a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder and peered at her sister in concern. “It was that long walk you took this morning, was it not?”

  “Do not be ridiculous. I never take ill.” A sudden intake of breath, a long-bated pause punctuated this statement, and then a toe-curling sneeze.

  Jane frowned. “You oughtn’t to go this evening if you are unwell.”

  “You know Mama would never—” Elizabeth broke off and turned away as another violent sneeze interrupted her. She drew out her handkerchief and sniffed. “Mama will not countenance it,” she finished. “She is absolutely determined that we must make Mr. Bingley’s acquaintance.”

  “But how are you to make his acquaintance if all you can do is sneeze on him? That would be a dreadful first impression!”

  Both girls giggled at the thought but sobered immediately. “You must go, Jane,” Elizabeth decided. “And that means that I must.”

  “Why would that be?”

  “Because Mama and Aunt Philips have already begun a rumor campaign establishing us as the handsomest girls in Meryton. Since you are easily ten times the prettiest of the two of us, we must appear together at least upon your first acquaintance with Mr. Bingley, so he will be in no doubt of who is the loveliest girl in all the county.”

  “Oh, Lizzy!”

  Elizabeth put up a finger, her nose wrinkling as she caught her breath and turned away. This sneezing fit lasted longer than most, and when she turned back her face was quite red. “It is true even on my best day, Jane. Can you honestly think Mr. Bingley could meet me in such a state as I am and not think you vastly more beautiful? If I attend the Assembly this evening looking as I surely will, Mr. Bingley will have no choice but to fall in love with you.”

  Jane arched a playful brow. “You are so certain Mr. Bingley will fancy me, but what if he is more of the bookish type? What if he prefers a rousing debate to gentle small talk? You would do him a disservice, perhaps even lead him to believe that the most perfect woman in the world is a retiring, unhealthy creature who is not interested in him.”

  “Did you not hear? Everyone who has met Mr. Bingley describes him as amiable and fond of dancing. It is perfectly assured; he will be half in love with you before the first set is complete.”

  “Not if I am constantly worried for you. Are you certain you can endure an entire evening? You look miserable already, and we are not even dressed yet.”

  Elizabeth sniffed again, blinking her scratchy eyes. “Perhaps Mrs. Hill can make me a peppermint or nettle tea. Surely, that will set me right.”

  Darcy could feel his expression hardening more with every new person he met. The party from Netherfield could not very well have refused to attend the local Assembly, but he wished with all his being that he could have been anywhere else. Even tending to the horses outside sounded preferable to fanning his proverbial feathers and prancing about the room with perfect strangers.

  “And this is my good friend, Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire,” Bingley was announcing to the latest new face—a frilly matron named Mrs. Bennet, with four equally frilly daughters arrayed at her flanks.

  Darcy bowed dutifully, cast an eye over the young ladies, and found only one worth a second look. Bingley had clearly been captivated as well, for his gushing friend promptly bowed and extended his hand to the blonde beauty. As they walked together to the dance floor, the mother moved deliberately into Darcy’s line of sight with a smile so brilliant it could have blinded a man.

  “Do you also enjoy dancing, Mr. Darcy? All my girls are excellent dancers—why, Lydia is almost never without a partner, and Elizabeth—” The lady’s brow furrowed and she glanced about the edges of the room. “Where has that girl gone?” she muttered in vexation.

  “I thank you, madam,” he interrupted, “but am not inclined to dance at present. Good evening.” He stepped away, but not so quickly that he missed the lady’s affronted gasp. Well, let her be offended if she chose to be. He could not very well appease every eager mother who presented her daughters to him.

  However, neither could he stand aimlessly about in the middle of the room, or someone else would present themselves to his notice. A place on the wall seemed the most promising notion—something not too near others who might desire to converse with him. He glanced down the long hall in dismay, for the only open space available was inconveniently situated beside a young lady who appeared to be sitting alone. No, no, that would never do!

  Then, from across the room, Caroline Bingley sought his eye. Her look was all sauce and sourness, speaking of some mutual ennui with the unsophisticated crowd, the rustic setting, the shortcomings of the musicians. A second glance informed him that she intended to share her mirth and disdain with him at the earliest opportunity, if he would but wait for her. He thinned his lips and made for the gap along the wall.

  Miss Bingley had rightly perceived his annoyance, but not its source. To be sure, he had no personal interest in any of the denizens of Meryton, but they were no worse than the common country set. His true sense of boredom and irritation stemmed from the suffocating presence of so many bodies, all pressing round him and expecting him to be at his most charming and chivalrous. Dashed insupportable, for after the journey from London two days previous, he had suffered a terribly uncomfortable headache and even a sore throat. An evening and a morning above stairs had seen to the greater portion of his complaint, but he still felt weak and over-warm when moving too much. And he was by no means in the mood for conversation.

  Darcy took his place close to the wall, clasped his hands behind his back, and pointedly turned away from his nearest neighbor—the young lady sitting alone. He scarcely even looked at her, save to verify that there was no chair beside her for another ambitious female to occupy. One approached, however. He recognized her as the daughter of Sir William, the master of ceremonies. Though there was no seat for her, she addressed the solitary woman with warm familiarity.

  “Lizzy, I brought you some punch. Are you feeling any better?”

  “Lizzy” shook her head as she accepted the drink. “No, but I did not expect a miraculous recovery. Thank you for this, Charlotte.”

  Miss Lucas smiled in sympathy. “Jane looks beautiful this evening. It is wonderful to see her so well-matched, is it not?”

  Darcy, who had been pretending to ignore them, could no longer conceal his interest. The young ladies could only be speaking of Bingley and his present dance partner. In the way of country matchmakers, they had likely already determined that Bingley must pay court to this Jane creature, and eventually offer marriage.

  “I am pleased for her, Charlotte,” the first young lady an
swered in a voice that sounded weary… or relieved. “I was so hoping she would meet someone pleasant tonight.”

  “Mr. Bingley is more than pleasant. Papa says…” Miss Lucas broke off suddenly and cleared her throat. Darcy, staring resolutely forward once more, could only guess that her gaze had wandered to him. At least she had the decency to cease the verbal confession of her matrimonial ambitions in his hearing.

  “Well, here, Elizabeth,” Miss Lucas stammered, “I will keep close to Kitty and Lydia. You’ve nothing to fret about.” She stepped briskly away, and Darcy released a heavy sigh.

  The dances ticked by… a quarter of an hour… twenty minutes. Darcy closed his eyes against the lingering headache and decided that he might be equal to two sets this evening, but certainly no more. What the devil had made him agree to come? Ah, but a gentleman not confined to his bed must be hale enough to endure an evening of dancing and making new acquaintances, must he not? He snorted.

  “Gesundheit.”

  He glanced to the young lady on the chair. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You did not just sneeze?” she asked innocently.

  Darcy made a bitter face. “I should hope not. It would be insupportable to sneeze in public, even at a gathering such as this.”

  The young lady’s mouth turned up on one side and she regarded him curiously. “I must apologize for my assumption, but perhaps you will forgive me because nearly everyone else in attendance are mere humans and not immortals, such as yourself.”

  Darcy narrowed his eyes. “You are very impertinent to a stranger.”

  “Then you must pray we are never properly introduced, for I can be even more impertinent among my acquaintances.” She turned her face back to the dance floor, her chin held high.

  Darcy remained staring at her for another instant. There was something ill-placed in her countenance, and it was not the smirk of victory playing about her mouth. Her color was unusually high—one might even call it feverish. Even the tip of her nose was rosy, and though he could not claim familiarity with her features, there appeared a faint puffiness about her eyes.

  All thought of the peculiar young woman disappeared when Bingley fairly trotted up to him, having escorted his dance partner back to her mother. His cheeks were bright and his smile radiant as he tugged at the front of his waistcoat.

  “What of it, Darcy, will you dance this evening? I believe Caroline was expecting you. You really ought to come away from the wall, old chap. See how many ladies are seated for want of a partner?”

  “It is the proper thing to do,” Darcy conceded.

  “Come, now, you must not dance simply because it is proper!” Bingley protested. “Can you not enjoy yourself? There are several uncommonly pretty girls here, and all quite amiable. Miss Bennet is a remarkably handsome girl!”

  “She is the only handsome girl in the room,” he agreed.

  “Oh, but look about you, man! I hear—” his voice lowered confidentially, but what Bingley considered a sotto voce was still quite an audible tone— “I hear that there is yet another Bennet sister whom I have yet to meet. Elizabeth, they call her, and I am told she is very agreeable. What do you say, Darcy? Shall I find someone to introduce us?”

  “I would sooner dance with the stable hands,” Darcy grumbled.

  “Here, now!” Bingley laughed. “Is that any way to talk? Suppose the lady or her family overheard you? They do not know your disposition as I do and may very well think the worst of your character.”

  “They may think what they will. I will do my duty by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, but I am in no humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. Go on to your next partner, Bingley.”

  “Very well.” Bingley shook his head. “I hope you are in better spirits come the morrow.” He wandered away, the disappointment in his features melting instantly into pleasure when he rejoined the press.

  Darcy rolled his eyes and felt gingerly of his forehead. No throbbing as yet, thank heaven. Now was as opportune a time as any to present himself to Miss Bingley. As his hand lowered, his eye caught on that eccentric creature seated near him. Her cheeks were even ruddier than a few moments earlier, and her lips were tight. At his notice, her nostrils twitched, and she drew herself up, still staring back at him.

  She was a bold one, this country lass. Darcy searched his memory for some recollection of her name… “Lizzy,” Miss Lucas had called her. And then, “Elizabeth.”

  Egad.

  It would be just his luck to insult the mysterious Bennet sister directly in front of her. And, yes, there could be no doubt of it. She was righteously indignant at the affront—he could see it by the way her knuckles turned white as they twined in her skirt. If he thought there was a chance of ever knowing her, he would apologize. As it was, however, her eyes hardened, and she turned away.

  Just as well. No sense in causing a scene when he was unlikely ever to speak to her again.

  Chapter 2

  “Are you feeling better, Lizzy?”

  Elizabeth dropped her arm down from her face with a groan and squinted against the pale light flitting in through the window. Jane stood near her bed, concern writ over her features and a hot saucer in one hand.

  “Right as rain,” Elizabeth replied. “What would make you think otherwise?”

  “Well, it is half past ten. Does your head still pain you?”

  Elizabeth sat bolt upright and immediately regretted it when a sharp lance shot through her brain. “Half past ten! I cannot recall the last time I stayed so long abed.”

  “Nor I. Mama thinks you are sulking because no one asked you to dance last evening, and she insisted that everyone leave you be until you came to your senses. I—” here, she permitted a smile and offered the saucer— “I asked Hill to brew this for you.”

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth took the beverage and swallowed gratefully, until needles pricked and sliced at her throat. She winced, then forced another swallow. “Delicious,” she declared with a shudder.

  Jane sat down beside her sister and felt Elizabeth’s forehead with the back of her cool fingers. “Lizzy, ought we to call the apothecary? You are still warm—this could be very serious.”

  “Nonsense. People do not die of trifling colds such as this. Perhaps I was out too long yesterday after all, and I took a chill. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Well, everyone who knows you at all was worried about you last evening. Charlotte was dreadfully concerned, and of course that sent Maria into a fit of terror.”

  Elizabeth made a half-amused face. “Why?”

  “Oh… Maria and Kitty read too many of the same novels. She was afraid you had some fever that would become epidemic. Did you not notice how she avoided you?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I hope she will be relieved when she sees me perfectly well. I should dress and—”

  She broke off when a frenzied knock sounded at her door and their mother’s breathless tones echoed from the other side. “Jane! Are you in there? Come quickly!”

  They glanced at each other, and Jane opened the door. “What is it, Mama?”

  Mrs. Bennet was flushed with joy, nearly trembling as she thrust an opened note into Jane’s hand. “It is the best thing, the very best thing. Oh, we are saved! Look, my dear, you have been invited to dine at Netherfield!”

  “Netherfield?” Jane took the note and read slowly, almost to herself. “It is from Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst… their brother will be dining out… they are hoping for me and perhaps for one of my sisters to join them for dinner to amuse them. Of course, I must go, but…”

  Elizabeth tilted her head to examine the back of the note. “Mama, you opened a note that was addressed to Jane?”

  “Oh, that does not matter,” protested Mrs. Bennet with a wave of her hand. “If you had any thought for your poor mother, Lizzy, you would have danced with some wealthy man, too. To think of you sitting there at the edge of the room all evening, and never even putting yourself in the way of that
Mr. Darcy when he stood right beside you. I thought I would go distracted! Thank goodness for our dear Jane, always thinking of her family. Hurry, my dear, you must dress for your ride. Hill! Come quickly!”

  “Ride?” Jane repeated with a glance out the window. “But Mama, it is going to rain.”

  “Yes, and what if it does? You will be safely at Netherfield by the time the rain comes, and then you will be sure not to miss the gentlemen when they return.”

  “Mama!” Jane’s cheeks turned a deep shade of scarlet. “How embarrassing! I cannot go on horseback and expect them to put me up for the night.”

  “But of course you can, and you must. I have already sent Mr. Hill to town with the carriage to bring home some material for your new gowns—you know it would not do for it to become wet in the old cart before we have even had a chance to make it up. Now, hurry along, you must have your hair dressed. The horses will be saddled any moment. Lydia, my love! Are you nearly ready?” she called out down the hall.

  Jane halted abruptly, causing her mother to bump into her back. “Lydia—oh, no, Mama, you cannot think of it! The note only suggested that I might bring a sister. They did not name anyone, and surely—”

  “What? And lose the chance for one of my girls to catch Mr. Darcy’s notice? You saw how he kept to himself, and it will need a merry sort of girl to attract him. You know Lydia was occupied all evening, and he could not have got a dance for anything by the time he did arrive. Yes, I am quite sure he will like her. Hill! Miss Jane’s hair needs your attention!”

  “Mama!” Jane’s mortification had now taken on a pale horror, and she instinctively looked for Elizabeth to support her.

  “Jane is right, Mama,” Elizabeth supplied. “Why, think of Mr. Bingley’s fashionable sisters. Perhaps… perhaps it would be unwise to send our dear Lydia, who is all fun and merriment when it… it might cast the hostess in an unfavorable light.”