All the fruitless thinking and self-condemnation fatigued him. Darcy welcomed the blackness of sleep and reprieve from a mess of his own making. He ought to have stayed at Rosings and courted Elizabeth there. Now, he may regret it for the rest of his life.
*****
When he awoke to Richard’s and Bingley’s voices some time later, Darcy thought he was dreaming.
“Milord is through here,” Mrs. Green said. “Don’t know if he can be moved. The surgeon needs to see him still.”
“Bingley, ride into the town and find the surgeon. Get him here at once. Money is no concern.”
Darcy heard quick, heavy steps and managed to open one eye to see Richard staring down at him. “Ah, it is you, Darcy! I thought for sure we had the right place when she called you a lord.” Richard laughed before sitting down.
“Damned dream,” Darcy said and rubbed his eyes.
“You dream of me? I am flattered, although perhaps we shall not tell Miss Elizabeth that.”
Finally convinced that Richard was in the flesh and not a figment of his imagination, Darcy opened his eyes all the way. “Richard! How did you find me?”
“Georgiana thought it odd that you were gone for so long without a word to her. Anne wondered why you did not welcome her in London. Hints were made that you had promised to call at the Gardiner residence the day after Anne and Miss Elizabeth arrived. Before I made it to Darcy House, the lady herself had come, convincing my cousins that you would never break your promise to call on her and that something awful must have befallen you.”
Darcy marvelled at Elizabeth’s attitude. “Nothing so awful. An animal spooked my horse, and I was sent flying. I broke my leg and cut my head. The difficulty lay in that I lost my purse and could not pay my hosts nor anyone else to ride to London or send an express. I convinced the surgeon, when he finally arrived, to send a note, but it was returned today.” He held up the muddied envelope.
Richard peered at it. “It looks as though it was returned several days ago. I am unsurprised. Mail service to these small hamlets is deplorable.”
“I do not understand how you thought to look for me in Kent. I had thought you would look on the route to Pemberley first.”
“Indeed, I would have,” Richard said with a small smile. “I even thought you might have fled to purposefully avoid Miss Elizabeth.”
“I would never—”
“I was already reprimanded on the subject. Bingley said he was surprised you did not return to Rosings, and Miss Elizabeth herself was so utterly convinced that you were still madly in love with her. She suggested that we look first at The Bell in Bromley rather than wasting time at every coaching inn. How did she know that was your favourite inn?”
Darcy flushed. “In one of my letters to her, I explained how I loved their Toad in the Hole. I was attempting to make light conversation. I am surprised she remembered.”
“Well, it was quite useful and saved us considerable time. Once we determined you had been there, we knew to move forward, and it was not long before we heard a tale of a horse found with no rider. We focused on the neighbouring towns and hamlets and were finally directed here.”
Richard leaned close to Darcy’s ear. “Why on earth did you not write to us? What are you doing staying in this decrepit building without adequate care?”
Darcy whispered back, “They did the best they could. Beggars cannot be so choosy. I was fortunate that anyone would take care of me at all.”
“Well, I can think of three eager ladies who would gladly take care of you once we get you to London.”
“Three?”
“Yes, and I think I might have a bone to pick with you. Why did you arrange for Anne to journey to London? Why did you tell me nothing of your plans to court Miss Elizabeth from afar? You should have simply stayed at Rosings.”
Fortunately for Darcy, Bingley arrived with the surgeon in tow. Richard’s expression said he would not wait long for an explanation. The man poked and prodded before announcing Darcy well enough to travel. He advised it would be quite painful to be moved and suggested an inn rather than several hours in a carriage but understood the necessity. Richard promptly paid the man, and after Darcy explained his gratitude to Mrs. Green and her family, he left her with more money than they likely earned in a year.
After hasty farewells and assistance from Bingley and Richard, Darcy found himself in his carriage with a flask of spirits thrust into his hand to numb the pain. Once sufficiently inebriated, he explained to Richard about his ridiculous plan to woo Elizabeth, how he involved Anne, and repaid her with her heart’s dearest wish — a trip to town without Lady Catherine.
“Of course, I cannot say more about why Anne desired such a journey. I would not want to break her confidence.”
At the mention of that, Bingley smirked, and Richard flushed.
“I think Richard knows all about why Miss de Bourgh wished to be in London.”
“Really? What happened?”
“She kissed him! In front of your sister, Miss Elizabeth, and me! She ran right up and kissed him. Lucky dog!”
“You have your own lady,” Richard growled and playfully knocked into Bingley with his shoulder. “Get your eyes off mine.”
“Oh, she is your lady, is she?” Darcy teased.
“No more brandy for you,” Richard said and pulled the flask out of Darcy’s hand. “You are only jealous because I have what you want.”
“A kiss from Anne?” Darcy made a face, making Bingley laugh. “No, thank you.”
“No, you idiot.” Richard rolled his eyes. “I am surrounded by idiots. I hope we hit a deep rut just to teach you a lesson.”
“You would wish that on your favourite cousin?”
“I think I have made plain my preference for my favourite cousin. I surely will not be kissing you, no matter how much you dream of me.”
“Darcy dreams of you?” Bingley asked, a horrified expression on his face.
“Lord, no!” Darcy glared at his cousin. “When he first entered the room back there, I thought I was dreaming and mumbled something to the effect.”
“And you will not put me off teasing you that you want a kiss from Miss Elizabeth.”
“Now, don’t be sore, Richard. It’s only because she’s prettier than you.” Darcy laughed and then promptly fell asleep.
Five hours later, Richard shook Darcy awake. “We are here. It is time to get you into bed.”
“I need to see Elizabeth,” Darcy said, ignoring the throbbing in his head and leg. “Let us go to Gracechurch Street.”
“Darcy, it’s far too late to call on the Gardiners. Besides, when we left, Elizabeth was invited to stay at Darcy House. She is likely still awake and waiting for news about you.”
“No one sent an express?”
Richard and Bingley looked at each other and shook their heads. Some pair of rescuers they were.
“I hope she can forgive me,” Darcy muttered.
“Forgive you! You had an accident,” Richard said from one side. “A completely avoidable accident all because of your foolishness but an accident nevertheless.”
“If I were a lady, I think I would like the reckless display of impulse.” Bingley slid an arm around Darcy’s other shoulder.
“You would,” Darcy and Richard answered in unison before laughing.
That was how they entered Darcy House. The two friends providing support for the man in the middle with smiles on their faces and laughter on their lips. As soon as the door shut, there was a scurry of footsteps in an unladylike pace. A thud hit Darcy and almost knocked him over.
“Careful, Elizabeth!” Anne chided. “He is hurt.”
Richard and Bingley let go of Darcy, and he leaned against the warmth of his beloved.
“Welcome home, Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana said from somewhere. Darcy only had eyes for Elizabeth, though, so he could not be sure where his sister stood. “I am pleased you are in one piece!”
“Georgie,” Richard said, “call t
he housekeeper. We will need chambers made ready, bandages, and tonics. I think an apothecary or surgeon can wait until morning. How about I tell you how I rescued Darcy by myself—”
“I helped!” Bingley cried.
“Your lady is not here now. We can change the story tomorrow.”
Anne laughed. “Is that what soldiers do? Change their stories to impress ladies?”
“The first rule of warfare is to impress your lady — just one.”
“We cannot leave Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth here,” Georgiana said.
There was silence and Darcy was sure that the others looked at him and Elizabeth in each other’s arms, but he did not care. He had promised Elizabeth when she made it to London that no one would be left in doubt of his love, least of all her, and he would not let go of her until she moved first.
Richard finally spoke. “I think they can make it to his study. They need a few minutes to speak to one another.”
Darcy heard their footsteps fade down the hall and up the stairs. Elizabeth finally looked up from where her face was buried in Darcy’s coat. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Lean on me. We can go slow.”
Fortunately, the study was only a few feet from the entrance. Between Elizabeth’s assistance and gripping the wall and various objects, Darcy made it safely to a chair. He sagged in relief. Elizabeth began to move away, but Darcy pulled her to balance on his good leg.
“Fitzwilliam!” she cried in surprise.
Darcy grinned. “Yes, Elizabeth?”
“This is hardly proper.”
“Neither is our being alone, you embracing me, you arriving at my townhouse to insist that I must be madly in love with you—”
“Or you writing to me and having your cousin do your work?”
Darcy chuckled. “It seems we never understood one another when we abided by the rules of propriety. You can hardly blame me for not wanting to give up the feel of you in my arms. I have waited so long for it.”
Elizabeth nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. “I feared I lost you,” she whispered. “I thought I was blinded by prejudice for too long and lost my chance with you. I almost gave you up.”
“I am sorry for that. In a moment of impulse, I decided to ride to Rosings and declare my love once more. I ought not to have been so reckless.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught. “You were so impassioned as that? I knew it would be a sight to behold.”
“Why did you not give up on me, my love?” Darcy caressed Elizabeth’s cheek and felt it warm with his question.
“I had come to see your steadfast character whilst at Rosings. Even more than believing you would not abandon me without a word, my heart insisted you still loved me.”
“Why did it do that?” He already knew, but he had been desperate for many weeks to hear the words from her.
Elizabeth lifted her face from his shoulder and met his eyes. She placed one of Darcy’s hands over her heart and held it there. “I knew you still loved me because I love you. Our hearts are one.”
Darcy was unsure who moved first, but soon he found their lips touching in the sweetest bliss he had ever known. After pulling back and taking in the dazed expression on Elizabeth’s face, he kissed her nose. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” Elizabeth cocked her head to one side. “I should have accepted the first time, but then I would not have had your courtship at Rosings.”
They shared a laugh before their lips met again. They were interrupted too soon but knew they would have a lifetime ahead to share embraces and kisses. In the weeks that followed, Darcy healed, and their wedding was planned.
In early June, a triple wedding was held for Darcy, Richard, and Bingley and their beautiful brides. Although Lady Catherine was at first indignant that Darcy had not chosen her daughter, her complaints ceased when Lord Fitzwilliam gifted his younger son with a small estate, and there was talk of giving him a title due to his experience in the war. Appalled at the lack of discretion in the youngest Bennet daughters, she invited them to Rosings where they were separated from the evil effects of the militia. Through the connections of their brothers-in-law, they married well. At Easter each year, the extended family met at Rosings, where Darcy and Elizabeth could reminisce about their secret courtship.
The End
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Mr. Darcy's Compassion
A sample from Mr. Darcy’s Compassion
Chapter One
Darcy peered out his carriage window as the conveyance rolled to a halt before the coaching inn at his usual stop in South Mimms. To the east about twenty miles lay the town of Meryton, Hertfordshire. As often as he had traversed the roads between London and Pemberley, he had never before considered what lay beyond them. His mind had only considered the path before him and the duties attached to the destination. Whether at his estate or his London home, his responsibilities to family and legacy did not cease. Despite knowing Meryton lay only a few hours away, and with it the woman he loved, he would cling to his usual route.
Inside the tavern portion of the inn, Darcy grimaced when told that the private dining areas were full and his usual suites unavailable. His decision to leave London for Pemberley was formed suddenly, only hours ago. Easter with his sister in their ancestral home was a convenient excuse. Georgiana’s companion indicated that she was recovered enough to see him. Traditionally, Darcy visited his maternal aunt for the holiday. However, he was now sickened by high society and anyone who kept their views. Waving off the proprietor’s concern for his offence, Darcy sat in the loud common room.
He glanced around the area, unsurprised to see he had no acquaintances in the crowded chamber. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his notice. The maid moved with too much grace; her gown seemed too fine to be the usual sort. Was she some fancy piece trying to sell her wares? It was unlike Cuthbert to allow such, but who was Darcy to interfere with a man’s business? As the lady’s movements and figure continued to interest him—and invariably remind him of a lady mere miles away—he cursed under his breath for the fact that he now compared every woman born high or low to Elizabeth Bennet.
What would his family and friends say if they knew of his obsession? The earl would glare. Lady Catherine would lecture and throw her daughter at him. Bingley would laugh, and Richard, his cousin, would suggest he enjoy the barmaid’s enticements and be free of his physical longing—and possibly mental torment as well. Darcy had too much honour for such, however, and so when he waved her over it was only with the intent to order refreshment. Never mind the fact that her laugh at the table next to him reminded him too much of Elizabeth’s, and he had relished the warm sound when it washed over him.
“What would you like?” she asked.
Her voice was very like Elizabeth’s. Darcy kicked himself again for allowing her to make such a slave of him that his imagination could go so far as to hear her voice. Looking up from his hands, their eyes met, and Darcy’s breath caught.
Elizabeth gasped. “Mr. Darcy!”
“Eliza—Miss Bennet!”
“Par—pardon me!” Elizabeth laid her tray of ale down in a clatter and ran from the room.
Darcy stared after her. Why on earth was she serving in a tavern twenty miles from her home? The Bennets had not been as wealthy as he or Bingley, but their estate was prosperous enough. Only financial hardship or extreme love could drive her to such a situation. Darcy knew the owner of the inn and knew the Bennets had no relationship to him, which left only the financial motive. Before he could think better of it, he was in front of Cuthbert and tossing several pounds at him.
“That maid—the one who just ran out of the room—”
“Lizzy? Pretty with big, brown eyes?”
Darcy nodded. “Yes, that’s the one. I’m paying her wages for the week. Find another maid.”
Several men ar
ound him broke into laughter and raised an obscene toast in his honour, but he cared not one whit. As he dodged puddles of ale and urine, he followed through the door where Elizabeth exited. Hearing sobbing down the hall, he turned and then crept up the stairs. His heart beat in his throat with every step. There was another reason she could be here, one which lay heavily on his mind. Wickham might have ruined her. Darcy ought to have openly declared to the world that man’s character. He should have told Elizabeth the truth and warned her. Instead, his pride demanded he keep his failings private. If Wickham had not ruined Elizabeth, she might have been raped by any man down below. He did not think she would willingly sell herself, but many men took no heed of a negative answer.
Elizabeth sat on the top of the stairs, her head buried in her hands. The sounds of despair and agony split through him. Darcy bent at the knee and placed a hand on her shoulder, intent on offering her a handkerchief and escorting her to the safety of a room.
Before he could speak, he was struck on the side of his head. The unexpected movement set him tumbling down several stairs, landing hard on one arm. Along the way, he reached for the railing managing to twist his arm in a painful contortion.
“How dare you!” Elizabeth cried out, followed a moment later by, “Oh good Lord! What have I done? Mr. Darcy?”
“Aye,” Darcy moaned.
“I am so sorry,” she stammered. “I thought you were a stranger set on accosting me…”
The pain in Darcy’s heart upon hearing such words could be surpassed only by the pain he felt in his arm. He heard Elizabeth’s quick steps and a snivel as she wiped her tears away.
“Can you move?” she asked gently once at his side.
“I think so.” He made to roll over, and she assisted him. No longer lying on his injured arm, it throbbed even worse as blood rushed around it.
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