Mr. Darcy Came to Dinner Read Online Free Page B

as it is outside this room. Be gone with you.” Darcy sipped from his refilled brandy glass, allowing the alcohol to loosen his tongue. He had had enough of the pompous parson. For his part, Collins blanched before fleeing the room.
    “Sir,” Mr. Jones objected, “your leg looks to be seriously injured, and you have a gash on your — ”
    “And I have full use of my wits,” Darcy cut in roughly. Was anyone in Hertfordshire capable of taking instruction? “I am a gentleman, sir. You will see to Miss Bingley first! Do I make myself clear?”
    Mr. Jones shrugged. “As you wish. Will someone show me the way?” Miss Bennet volunteered to do the service, and the two left.
    Darcy turned to Mr. Hill. “I believe you are called Hill. Thank you for retrieving the apothecary. Please be so kind as to rush to Netherfield and inform my man, Bartholomew, what has befallen me. He is to send an express to London for my physician, Mr. Macmillan. Do you have that name, man? Good. Have Bartholomew bring my necessities as quickly as may be. Off with you.”
    Mr. Hill nodded and took to his heels without so much as a glance at Mr. Bennet. It was then Darcy remembered that Mr. Bennet was still in the room.
    “My apologies, sir. I should have asked for your leave. I meant no offense.”
    “None taken, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet quipped. “I am certain that a man of your station is used to having your own way.”
    Darcy turned his attentions to Miss Elizabeth. If Mr. Bennet was going to be difficult, he would waste no more time on him. Instead, he would entertain himself with a study of the lady’s fine eyes, which were gazing at him in a rather peculiar and fascinating manner.
    A young maid entered through another door. “Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Hill, the cook’s compliments, an’ she says the dinner’s ready.”
    “Ah,” said Mr. Bennet. “I do not suppose you can join us, Mr. Darcy.”
    Apparently, this was too much for Miss Elizabeth. “Father!”
    “What? Forgive me for stating the obvious, but I do not think Mr. Darcy will be moving from my couch.”
    “He is quite right, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy allowed. “Thanks to this injury, I must remain.” Darcy’s only reason for speaking up was to give relief to the dismay written clearly across Miss Elizabeth’s lovely face. As for Mr. Bennet, he could go to the devil.
    Mrs. Hill turned to Darcy. “Are you hungry at all, sir? Stomach’s not too upset? ’Tis usual in these cases.”
    Darcy thought about that. “I think I could manage something.”
    “Cook’s white soup is very good. How’s ’bout a wee bit of chicken in it? Does that sound tempting?”
    “Perhaps with bread and wine?”
    “Well-watered wine, sir,” said Mr. Jones as he reentered the room with Bingley close at his heels. “I can report that Miss Bingley is well and resting. She suffered no injury as a result of her loss of consciousness.”
    Bingley was all apologies. “You know how queasy Caroline gets at the sight of blood, Darcy. How is your leg?”
    “That is for Mr. Jones to determine. Please, do not forgo your dinner on my account. Go on and eat.” He waved his hand imperiously.
    “If you say so,” said Bingley dubiously. He extended his arm to Miss Elizabeth. “Shall we?”
    Miss Elizabeth took Bingley’s arm, gave Darcy one more unreadable look, and left the room. Meanwhile, Mr. Bennet, erstwhile master of Longbourn, stood silent — annoyed and impotent. Finally, he nodded at his guest and followed.
    Darcy felt no pity for the man. If he chose to be only an observer in life rather than a participant, then Darcy would leave him to stew in his own juices.
    Mrs. Hill gestured at the young maid. “I must see to dinner service, Mr. Darcy. But here’s Sally, and her responsibility is your comfort.” To Sally, she continued, “Mind none of your other duties, girl, until you hear my say-so.”
    “Aye, ma’am.” The girl beheld her charge with wide, fearful eyes. Darcy, half in his cups from