Page 64 of Cousin Conundrum

Miss Bingley met his bow with a curtsy before coming to his side. “You must be Mr. Fletcher. Mr. Hurst informed me that you were likely to arrive today. I did not realize he meant with such alacrity. Mr. Hurst’s associates are not normally known for their quickness.”

Kitty contained a chuckle, thinking of all the different ways Miss Bingley might mean that.

“His request for my presence was urgent, miss…” Mr. Fletcher trailed off questioningly.

Miss Bingley smiled as if Mr. Fletcher requesting her name was witty. “I am Miss Bingley, Mr. Hurst’s sister-by-marriage, and sister to Mr. Bingley, who I am certain Mr. Hurst informed you has taken this house for the remainder of the year.”

Mr. Fletcher nodded, his expression polite. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bingley. Are you joining us?”

“Us?” She looked about, then started slightly, as if she had not noticed Kitty. “Oh. Miss Kitty. I did not even see you there. That gown is astonishingly…soothing to the senses. It all but blends in with the upholstery.”

Apparently, the nice version of Miss Bingley was once more nowhere to be found, which meant she knew something about Mr. Fletcher that Kitty did not. Kitty looked him over again as they both sat and Miss Bingley called for tea, wondering what she’d missed.

“Mr. Hurst tells me you are related to the Honorable Arthur Fletcher.”

Well, that explained much.

“I cannot imagine why Mr. Hurst would tell you that.”

Alarm crossed Miss Bingley’s face. “Is it not true?”

“It is.”

Miss Bingley laughed, though Mr. Fletcher’s two syllables hadn’t been jovial.

Kitty could guess Mr. Hurst’s motivation. He wanted Miss Bingley to be pleased by Mr. Fletcher’s visit, and to be accommodating. He’d also set up poor Mr. Fletcher to be tormented.

Miss Bingley hoisted her teacup, looking coyly over the rim at Mr. Fletcher. “Do tell me, Mr. Fletcher, what is it like being the grandson of an earl?”

Kitty sighed and went to the sideboard to make a plate. She should have talked faster, or left some information out. She’d told Mr. Fletcher everything she knew about the Archers, and had barely managed to question him in return. As Miss Bingley would obviously work to keep Kitty from speaking to him alone again, she would simply need to find out more on her own. Kitty definitely wanted to know precisely who Mr. Hurst and Mr. Fletcher were, and why they were so interested in the Archers.

Chapter Eighteen

It only took Elizabeth a day to convince Jane and Kitty that she could rest as well out of her room as in, no matter what Mr. Jones may have said. Finally, more because of her persistence than out of any belief she was well, her sisters permitted her to rise. As Jane and Kitty helped her don a gown, the world swayed, but Elizabeth balled her fists and refused to sway with it, lest Jane usher her back into bed.

“You look very pale,” Jane said, coming around her after finishing on the buttons. “Are you certain you are well enough to go downstairs?”

“I will go mad if I remain abed any longer.” More than that, Elizabeth still held hope that something might be done about Cat Archer’s claim on Mr. Bingley, in which case, Jane still had a cause to further. One she couldn’t further while sequestered with Elizabeth, as both she and Kitty were all the previous afternoon and evening. Kitty had gone to breakfast, yes, but Elizabeth hadn’t been able to persuade either of her sisters to go down for luncheon, tea, or dinner. How could Mr. Bingley remain hopelessly in love with Jane if he never saw her?

After Kitty left them that first morning, it hadn’t taken Elizabeth long to pry the story of Mr. Bingley’s engagement out of Jane. Elizabeth’s heart ached for her sister, while her conscience writhed. She could not quite recall deciding to leave Jane and go after Miss Archer and Mr. Darcy, and couldn’t imagine what she’d been thinking. Whatever her reasoning, Elizabeth knew it could not have been more important than protecting Mr. Bingley for Jane.

Anger flickered in her as well, for Jane also told her their mother’s plan. The idea that Jane should attempt to attract Mr. Darcy, the sort of man who kissed unknown ladies outside assembly halls, was ludicrous. Elizabeth’s cheeks heated, outrage on Jane’s behalf mingling with mortification at the memory of Mr. Darcy’s lips on hers.

Mortification and a tiny, secret sliver of desire to feel his kiss again. And definitely not a hint of jealousy at the idea of Jane setting her sights on him. Elizabeth endeavored to never be envious of Jane.

“You could sit here by the fireplace and read,” Kitty said, pulling Elizabeth from her thoughts. “That way, if you decide you must lay down, the bed is right there.”

Elizabeth mustered a smile over the fear Kitty’s words stoked. Elizabeth did not know if she could read, no matter where she sat. Jane brought her books the afternoon before and, to Elizabeth’s distress, when she opened one the words swam, refusing to hold still and be consumed. She hadn’t told anyone. Not even Mr. Jones when he came to check on her progress. The idea of not being able to read was too horrifying to voice aloud. If Mr. Jones had reason to believe the condition permanent, Elizabeth was not yet prepared to know.

Her false smile feeling brittle, she said, “I would dearly like to sit on the terrace in the fresh air.” At least there she could watch the birds and see leaves flutter in the breeze. In here, she could only watch the wallpaper. The cream and sage stripes were soothing, but were rapidly taking on the look of bars on a cage. She drew her shoulders back. “I believe I am ready.”

She made her way into the hall on Jane’s arm, Kitty hovering on her other side, wearing a rather ugly old gown Elizabeth hadn’t seen in years and had thought given to one of the maids. Jane, in contrast, looked more lovely than ever. The pallor brought by her sorrow over Mr. Bingley’s engagement only enhanced her beauty.

Which Mr. Bingley would undoubtedly notice.

“Are you certain you are well enough to attempt the stairs?” Kitty asked, wringing her hands.

“I am perfectly well enough to attempt the stairs.” But as they reached the top and the long sweep of the steps spread out before Elizabeth, uncertainty set in. Simply looking down that flight made her head swim. She gripped Jane’s arm tighter.