Mr Darcy- My Hero

by Zoë Burton

  Darcy returned to his rooms at Netherfield, disheartened and fearful. His sleep was even more disturbed than it had been the previous night. For every hour Elizabeth remained missing, the hope for her good health—her life, even—grew smaller. At dawn the next day, he was once again knocking on Longbourn’s door.

  The sun was low in the sky when the men of the neighborhood, after searching as far as they thought a man could go when dragging an unwilling woman behind him, gathered in a field on the far side of the Bennet estate. All were exhausted, and many had given up hope that she would ever be found.

  Two boys taking part in the search decided to rest for a bit in a clump of trees nearby. First hacking at the tall weeds to make a seat, one sat beneath a tree while the other walked further in to relieve himself. With one hand on a tree and the other aiming his stream away from his feet, the second boy looked around. His attention was arrested by a path of bent weeds and broken branches amongst the thick trees and brush. Upon finishing his ablutions, he followed the trail, at the end finding a building he had never known was there. He pushed the door open and gasped to see a young lady, bound up and unconscious. He turned and ran, past his friend, to Mr. Bennet and the rich nob that was staying at Netherfield.

  “I found her!”

  At the boy’s words, Darcy was off his horse and running after him. Bennet and the rest of the men followed.

  Rushing into the hidden cabin, Darcy was both elated and heartbroken to find his betrothed. “Elizabeth!” He knelt at her side, feeling for a pulse in her neck as he reached with his other hand for the pocket knife he kept in his coat. Men began to fill the room, some helping Darcy untie her and others setting to work making a litter with which to carry her out.

  Bennet lowered himself on the other side of his daughter. “Is she alive?”

  “Yes, but barely,” Darcy replied. He looked around the small space. “He left her here, tied up and with no food or water, for days. Days! He knows as well as anyone that she could have died here. She may yet-.” He choked on the words, tears coming to his eyes. He gripped her hand as he worked to control his emotions. “Please, Elizabeth, wake up. Do not leave me,” he whispered.

  Bennet spoke. “Does she have any injuries?”

  “I do not know. We need to check before we move her.” They set about feeling her limbs and body. When they found nothing to indicate a break, they rolled her from her side onto her back. Darcy growled at the sight of her bruised face, but he continued to check her for further injury. He was relieved to find nothing else beyond rope burns around her wrists. “I will kill him for this.”

  “And leave my daughter a widow when you are caught and hanged? I do not think so. We will find him and deal with him, but for now, we must focus on Elizabeth.”

  Darcy nodded, gathering his intended in his arms. He whispered in her ear, “Please, my darling, come back to me. Do not leave me.” He kissed her ear and her cheek, and then, so very softly, her lips. “I love you.”

  The litter was ready for use and so, reluctantly, Darcy laid Elizabeth down on it, covering her with his coat. He insisted on carrying one corner of it and helping walk her out. She was far too precious to entrust to people he did not know.

  It was a long, slow walk back to Longbourn and there were frequent stops to allow the men to take turns on the litter. Never once did Elizabeth stir, and fear gripped every man among them that she would not survive.

  Upon reaching the manor, the local apothecary was set up to receive her in her bedchamber, having been summoned as soon as Elizabeth was found. Darcy gathered her up and carried her in himself, leaving only at the insistence of the housekeeper and the man of medicine. He stationed himself outside her door, where he could keep watch on her progress. Soon, Mr. Bennet joined him. Suddenly, the door opened and the housekeeper stuck her head out. “She is waking!”

  Darcy rushed to her bed, sitting on the edge and holding her hand. “Elizabeth?” Joy filled him when her head turned toward him and her eyes opened.

  “Fitzwilliam,” she croaked.

  He kissed her hand. “I love you.”

  “Love…you…”

  The apothecary spoke. “She needs water. I have read of people who died as a result of not drinking enough liquids. Mrs. Hill has gone down to fetch broth, but we also need to give her sips of water, slowly but often.”

  Darcy nodded as he changed his position on the bed. Lifting her up, he leaned Elizabeth against his chest. Bennet handed him a glass of water, and he coaxed her to drink, pulling it away after just a little bit. “Not too much, my love. Let that settle and I will give you more.”

  Elizabeth managed to stay awake long enough to take half the water in the glass and a small amount of broth. Darcy and her father took turns with the apothecary and Mrs. Hill, watching her for signs of fever and encouraging her to take water whenever she awakened, even if it was for only a few minutes. When she survived the night, her caretakers were elated, and the news relayed to her mother and sisters, who had been confined to their rooms once Elizabeth had been found. Mr. Bennet had decided that theatrics were not needed in the sickroom and that was all the three women were capable of.

  London, late the next day

  Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam settled into a chair in his quarters. His batman had handed him a letter upon his return to the barracks, saying it had arrived only minutes before. Seeing the return address and recalling that his Darcy cousins were currently staying with Darcy’s friend Bingley, he snapped the seal and unfolded the letter. Expecting it to be a simple recount of their days in the country, he was unprepared for the contents.

  Leaping from his seat, he read the note again, his shock giving way to anger. He began to pace as his mind, with the precision that had gained him acclaim for his strategies in battle, plotted steps to avenge Darcy and his betrothed. After examining his plan from all angles, he sat down to write two letters. One was to a former comrade who made his money now by conducting investigations. The other was to his cousin.

  Darcy,

  I am without words. My anger knows no bounds. That your innocent betrothed should be left to die in such a manner horrifies and enrages me. I am relieved to hear that she is awake and on the path to recovery, and that the cur did not injure her further.

  I know that you are not in a position to take care of this situation. You are rightly where you belong, with your Elizabeth. Be assured that I will, with all due diligence, address it as swiftly as I can manage and in as discreet a manner as possible. You should know by now that I am well able to arrange matters to suit me, and with no repercussions.

  Give my love to both Georgiana and Miss Bennet. I have never been more eager to have her join the family.

  Yours,

  RF

  ~~~***~~~

  Three days after Elizabeth awoke, Jane and Mary Bennet returned home, accompanied by Mr. Bingley and Lord and Lady Watts. The young ladies rushed to their sister’s side, with Jane taking over nursing duties from the housekeeper. She spent much of her time while at Elizabeth’s bedside talking, sharing news and stories of her time in London. Mary, after sitting with Elizabeth for a while and holding her hand, retreated down the stairs.

  “You must get well, dear sister, for I require that you stand up with me. Mr. Bingley has asked me to marry him, and I said yes. I am so happy! Perhaps we might have a double wedding? What do you say?” Jane’s relief that Elizabeth was recovering added to her excitement over her betrothal.

  Darcy and Bingley watched from the doorway. “She is happy, my friend. Congratulations. We shall be brothers.”

  Bingley grinned. “We shall. You are fortunate in that, are you not?”

  Darcy laughed. “Indeed, I am. Fortunate on all fronts, I believe.” He gazed at Elizabeth, who still slept most of the time but had regained some color and strength.

  “Have you found Wickham yet? I knew he was a scoundrel, but never imagined he would do something so heinous.”

  “No, I have not. I have
hired investigators, though, and have alerted my cousin to be on the lookout for him.”

  “Ah, if I remember correctly, Wickham is very much afraid of the good Colonel. What did Fitzwilliam say about the matter?”

  “Not much, just that he would like an introduction to Elizabeth as soon as possible and that he knew if Lady Catherine described her as common and inappropriate that she must be a diamond of the first water. His anger was clear, however. Elizabeth is an innocent, just one of a long line of them, of course, but after the last incident, this one makes it clear that Wickham’s behavior is becoming worse and worse. If I know Fitzwilliam, he believes the miscreant must be stopped, and he is just the man to do it. That army training and service on the battlefield have made him fierce. Wickham is wise to fear him. My cousin will find him, no matter how long it takes, and it will not go well, not for Wickham, at any rate.”

  “And in the meantime?”

  “My focus, for now, remains on Elizabeth and getting her well. Georgiana has been asking to visit and help with the nursing duties. Now that Mary is here and Elizabeth seems to be on the mend, I will allow it. She has always wanted a sister, and watching Jane and Mary serve theirs will teach Georgiana well.”

  The gentlemen moved out of the doorway as Mrs. Hill bustled past them, giving them a look that could only mean disapproval.

  “She does not approve of us seeing Miss Elizabeth in her chambers?”

  Darcy chuckled. “No, she does not. It does not matter a bit to her that Elizabeth is covered to her chin and that her sister sits with her. Gentlemen do not belong in a lady’s bedchamber before they are wed. Come, Bennet had the settee in the hallway brought up for my comfort. Let us make use of it.”

  Chapter 7

  It took Elizabeth a full week to recover her strength enough to leave her room. The apothecary insisted that she slowly increase the amount of food she consumed, and allowed her only broth for the first few days. He looked in on her daily, and was happy to report to her father and betrothed that she was making good progress. The day she stepped into the hall for the first time and felt Darcy’s waiting arms wrap around her felt like the best day of her life.

  “I love you, Fitzwilliam,” she murmured into his waistcoat.

  “And I, you, my love.” Darcy tightened his hold. “You must promise not to frighten me that way again.” His voice became imperious. “You will take a footman with you every time you leave the house. Never again will you be left unprotected.”

  For once in her life, Elizabeth was happy with that sort of demand. “I will, even if I only go to the gardens.” She began to cry. “It was awful, Fitzwilliam, and I never wish to experience anything similar again. I tried to get out, I truly did, but there was nothing I could do. I could not stand and walk, and I could not find any way to get the bindings off.”

  Darcy picked her up and moved to the settee, sitting down with her on his lap. He held her while she cried, rubbing his hand over her back to comfort her. “Shhh, all is well, my love. I know that you tried. There was evidence of it on your gown and on the floor. I am so sorry that I did not find you sooner. Would that I could have spared you some of the horror and pain!” Tears filled his own eyes as he shared with her his feelings of helplessness and pain at her disappearance. “I promise you, my love, that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe for the rest of your life. You are my heart; without you, I am a lost soul.”

  Darcy lifted Elizabeth’s tear-stained face with his finger under her chin. He searched her eyes, looking for permission and assurance, and, finding both, lowered his lips to hers. They kissed for a long minute, giving and taking reassurance and comfort in the one they pledged their lives to. They separated once, then joined their mouths again, deepening the kiss for just a moment before Darcy pulled away. Brushing the backs of his fingers over her cheek, he whispered, “I adore you.”

  Elizabeth smiled at his words, returning his sentiments before laying her head back down on his shoulder. They remained embraced for a few more minutes, until steps could be heard on the staircase. Jane, who had led her sister out of the bedroom then disappeared back into it when her future brother embraced Elizabeth, stepped once again into the hall and cleared her throat.

  Reluctantly, the couple separated, Darcy lifting Elizabeth off his lap and onto the seat next to him before rising. Nodding to Jane, he turned back to his intended, holding out his hand and helping her to rise. He escorted her down the stairs with Jane following.

  Elizabeth did her best, after being settled into a chair with a blanket over her legs, to be her usual self, but the effort was exhausting. While the majority of the party, which this day included the Hursts, were encouraging and understanding of the trauma she had faced, Mrs. Bennet was her usual self. She often praised Darcy and Bingley, for various reasons but largely because they were marrying her daughters. However, every time her eyes fell upon her second daughter, she would recall the near-ruin she had brought upon them by disappearing. As a result of these recollections, she berated Elizabeth as an undutiful and wild daughter who had no compassion on her poor nerves.

  The words, combined with her mother’s shrill voice and her own lingering weakness, were more than Elizabeth could take. She held on as long as she could, but her distress was clear to everyone who cared to see it. Darcy waited for Bennet to take control of his wife and when he did not, Darcy did.

  Standing from his chair beside his betrothed, he apologized to the gathering. “I am sorry to interrupt, but Elizabeth is fatigued and requires rest. I will escort her to her room.”

  “Oh, Lizzy is just fine. All she wants is attention. You will have your hands full with her, Mr. Darcy.”

  Darcy’s mien transitioned from blankly polite to menacing. He stiffened with the affront to his future wife and took a full minute to gather his control enough to speak. When he did, however, there was no doubt even in Mrs. Bennet’s mind that he was greatly displeased with her.

  “There is nothing wanting in Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennet. She is neither wild nor untamed. She is not uncaring. What she is, is recovering from a horrific experience that was no fault of her own. A scoundrel tried to use her to revenge himself on me. If you are going to blame anyone for your nerves being overset, you should be attributing them to me and my actions, not your daughter’s.

  “In addition, she is not fine, and if you had eyes for anyone but yourself, you would see this. She almost died, Mrs. Bennet. Died! You should be praising her for her efforts to release herself from her bindings while in that shed. You should be praising her for being out of bed after only a week of recovery. Your careless, thoughtless words have the potential to set her back again. The wedding would have to be postponed in that case. What do you say about that, Mrs. Bennet?”

  Darcy’s harsh words left the entire room silent, including Elizabeth’s mother, who was unaccustomed to being reprimanded for her behavior. He felt Elizabeth take his hand. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm the shaking that came along with his rage, he turned to her and helped her stand. Without another word or look at anyone, he picked her up and carried her out of the room. Jane, Mary, and Georgiana quickly followed, eager to be of use to the couple.

  After a long, awkward silence, Lady Watts spoke. “Well, that was heartfelt. If there was ever a doubt about that young man’s love for Elizabeth, his words should have put it to rest.”

  Her sister’s speech woke Mrs. Bennet out of her shocked stupor and once again loosened her tongue. “Why, I never! He had no right to speak to me that way! I can-.”

  “Yes, Wife, he did have the right. Shame on me for not stopping you myself. Your future son had the right of it. What happened to our daughter was not her doing, and I had best not hear you speak of it or her again in that manner. Mr. Darcy may just be the salvation from the hedgerows that you have been so afraid of for so long. I expect you to treat both him and Elizabeth with the proper respect. I intend to encourage them to marry as soon as possible. Darcy has the license in his
possession; the marriage articles have been signed. All that is left is to stand in the church. They need each other far more than you and I will ever understand.” With those words, Bennet bowed to the remaining guests and retreated to his book room.

  Lady Watts chose that moment to support her brother. “Thomas was correct, Fanny. Elizabeth did not choose to be kidnapped and left to die. The man who did this was using her to hurt Darcy. She is fragile right now, physically and, I would imagine, in her emotions. By berating her on her first foray into the world since her recovery, you have made her ill again. You must learn to see things from another perspective than your own, Sister. I know you love all your girls; you must show it to all of them, even the ones you do not understand.”

  Silence ruled the room once again. Before the mistress of the house could regain her tongue after her third setdown in a row, the Hursts excused themselves to return to Netherfield. They said not a word about it, not in the carriage or upon returning home, but both felt that it was long past time someone took Mrs. Bennet to task.

  Mrs. Bennet, unable to think of a single thing to say to defend herself, rose and, without a word, retired to her rooms. She would spend the rest of the day there, taking meals on a tray and admitting no one to see her.

  ~~~***~~~

  Having carried his beloved to her room, Darcy gently set her on the bed, sitting beside her when she would not release him. Silently he held her while she cried once more into his shoulder and their sisters quietly busied themselves around the room. Finally, she calmed enough to speak.

  “I do not know what to say first.”

  “There is nothing you need to say. I apologize for my part in your distress. I should not have let my temper loose as I did.”

  “You are fine, Fitzwilliam. Mama deserved every word you spoke to her. Thank you for standing up for me.”