To Conquer Pride

by Jennifer Altman

  Taking Calypso’s reins, Darcy led the gentle mare over to a tall oak tree and Elizabeth followed. Lifting her hem, she carefully slipped the toe of her boot into the stirrup.

  “Here, place your hands on the pommel, Miss Bennet, and then pull yourself up.”

  Elizabeth did as he instructed, but her right leg became hopelessly tangled in the seemingly endless material of her skirts and she dropped back onto the ground, grumbling in frustration. “Oh, bother,” she muttered, gathering the material of her gown in her free hand and hitching it up around her knees.

  Immediately, Darcy looked away.

  Calmly adjusting her skirts, Elizabeth gazed down at him as the horse shifted beneath her. “It seems your plan would have been better executed had it involved a pair of breeches, Mr. Darcy,” she called, amused at the deep flush that had settled upon the gentleman’s countenance.

  Darcy coughed, busying himself with handing Elizabeth the reins, but she could see a smile twitching at his lips. Lifting himself into his own saddle, he drew his mount up alongside Calypso, giving Elizabeth some basic instruction before the two set out at a slow walk. After a few minutes, Darcy nudged Poseidon with his left thigh. Bringing the gelding in close, he reached out, lightly taking Elizabeth’s gloved hands.

  “Miss Bennet, here. Loosen your grip, like this. And press in with your legs; that is what will keep you on. Although I promise, you have nothing to fear. She will not bolt.”

  Elizabeth glanced nervously in Darcy’s direction, but she breathed deeply, forcing herself to calm. “Nothing beautiful without struggle.”

  She had not even been certain she had spoken aloud, until Mr. Darcy leaned in, replying seriously, “Those who don’t know must learn from those who do, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth glanced back at him, her eyes wide. Was Mr. Darcy quoting Plato to her? The fact that he had recognized the source of her quip was surprising enough, but to have him return it shocked her to such an extent that she forgot her anxiety altogether. As they rode, Elizabeth continued to ponder the subject. Of course, she knew Mr. Darcy to be an educated man, but aside from her father, she had never met anyone with such a ready intellect. As a matter of fact, she could think of no other gentleman of her acquaintance who was as knowledgeable or as well-read as the one by her side. Nor could she think of any man whose disposition and talents would suit her half as well…

  They continued on in silence for some time before Mr. Darcy glanced in her direction. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Better than I expected. I think you are correct about riding in this manner.”

  Darcy nodded, sitting back in his saddle. “When Georgiana was small, I noticed she never wished to ride at any pace faster than a walk, although she loved the activity. When I asked her about it, she said she always felt as though she would slip off, despite the pommel. And I have to say, having ridden that way myself last November, I now know exactly what she meant.”

  Elizabeth stared at him in confusion until an image of Mr. Darcy perched upon the carriage horse in the aftermath of the accident flashed to mind. Wondering at his ability to tease her over something that had caused him such distress, she slowly shook her head. “I am not certain that is a fair comparison, sir, as you were injured at the time, not to mention riding without the benefit of a saddle.”

  “True. But I still prefer riding with one leg on each side of the saddle.”

  Elizabeth flushed and looked away, before turning back to ask, “And does your sister continue to ride in this manner, sir?”

  Darcy laughed easily. “No. She gave it up some years ago and has become quite proficient with the side-saddle. I am certain she would be happy to teach you if you ever decide to make the switch.”

  “Perhaps someday,” Elizabeth answered. “Though I have learned the hard way that one must walk before they can be expected to run.”

  Chapter 19

  THE NEXT HOUR slipped by as Darcy and Elizabeth crisscrossed Pemberley’s lush pasture. With each turn, Darcy noticed that Elizabeth seemed more at ease, and before long he was gratified to see that she was able to keep pace beside him at a steady trot.

  Not wanting to tempt fate, Darcy suggested they leave the remainder of the lesson for another day, and the pair dismounted beneath the great oak where they had begun, settling in the shade to enjoy the refreshments that had been left for them. When Darcy produced a wine bottle, Elizabeth’s eyes widened, but she laughed heartily when he moved to pour and it was not wine but lemonade that flowed into her glass.

  The soft ripple of Elizabeth’s laughter still hung in the air when Darcy felt a slight tremor beneath them, followed by the unmistakable sound of hoofbeats pounding on the hard-packed earth. Turning his head, Darcy saw James, his stable lad, galloping in their direction at a breakneck pace. Dropping his glass, Darcy stood, fear settling like a stone in the pit of his stomach.

  “What is it? What has happened?” he demanded as the groom reined in his mount.

  “‘Tis Miss Georgiana, sir. She’s taken ill. Mrs. Reynolds sent for the doctor, and Mr. Hastings says you’re to come right away.”

  Before the boy had finished speaking, Darcy was already yanking at the knots that tethered Poseidon’s reins to a low hanging branch. This was his fault. He knew Georgiana had been feeling unwell. He should have insisted that a physician be summoned weeks ago!

  “James,” he barked over his shoulder, “escort Miss Bennet back to the house, and then deliver Calypso to the stables.” Freeing the reins, Darcy turned to Elizabeth, softening his tone. “Forgive me, Miss Bennet, for leaving you this way. James will return you safely to the house.” He prepared to mount, but Elizabeth reached for his arm, holding him in place.

  “Mr. Darcy, wait. I will come with you.”

  “I appreciate the offer, Miss Bennet, but I am afraid I intend to ride at a rapid pace. I fear even if you were up to the task, Calypso is not.” He turned away, but Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around his arm.

  “Can your horse accommodate two riders, sir?”

  Darcy stilled. “What?”

  “I shall ride with you, if you will allow it.”

  “I… Are you… That is, are you certain?” he stammered, but Elizabeth was already reaching for the saddle.

  “Quite certain. Although I may need some assistance in mounting. Poseidon is quite a bit taller than Calypso.”

  Darcy blinked back at her.

  “Mr. Darcy? Please, hurry. We are wasting time.”

  Snapping out of his torpor, Darcy immediately stepped forward, placing his hands on Elizabeth’s slim waist and easily boosting her into the saddle. Swinging up behind her, his pulse raced as her back pressed against his chest, her soft curls brushing his cheek. Filling his lungs with her light floral scent, he grasped the reins in his right palm before sliding his left arm securely across her body. Pulling the horse about, he stared down at his wide-eyed groom.

  “James, take Calypso back to the stables and then collect Poseidon from the east side of the house,” he called, before kicking his mount into a brisk trot.

  Anchoring Elizabeth firmly in place, Darcy rested his chin gently on her shoulder so he could speak into her ear. “Are you well, Miss Bennet?” he asked, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the pounding of the horse’s hooves.

  Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, as long as you keep your arm around me I am quite well. However, I am certain you intend to travel faster than this!”

  Heat rushed through Darcy’s bloodstream like a wildfire, and it was all he could do to keep from touching his lips to the pale column of Elizabeth’s neck. Instead, he dug his heels into the gelding’s flanks and Poseidon took off at a run. Elizabeth remained pressed against him, but her posture was relaxed, not stiff with tension as he had expected.

  Once again, Darcy sent up a prayer of thanks that he had requested Poseidon for today’s lesson. In truth, he generally rode his newest stallion, Apollo, but he had specifically selected the elder, more docile Pos
eidon for his outing with Elizabeth. Apollo was an excellent mount, but he could also be headstrong and temperamental, and Darcy had wanted to leave nothing to chance.

  As they galloped through the fields, a tempest of emotions swirled inside his body—terror for his sister and what he might find back at the house mixed with the sheer ecstasy of racing across his estate, Elizabeth Bennet wrapped tightly in his arms. Briefly, he wondered how one person could feel such diametrically opposed sensations, but all too soon, the familiar stone edifice was upon them, causing him to focus solely on the task at hand.

  When they neared the east terrace, Darcy yanked abruptly on the reins, and Poseidon skidded to a halt, pitching them forward in the saddle. Automatically, his arm tightened around Elizabeth’s waist and he shifted slightly, studying her face. But although her cheeks were stained a deep pink, she did not seem in any way frightened.

  Darcy moved to dismount, gathering Elizabeth in his arms and carefully guiding her to the ground. And although the urge to embrace her had never been stronger, he immediately released his hold, taking a step backwards.

  Remembering his sister, apprehension turned his stomach and he reached out to squeeze Elizabeth’s hand in a gesture of farewell. His long legs had carried him halfway to the French doors before he realized that Elizabeth’s fingers still clung tightly to his own. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw she was hurrying after him, easily matching his pace. His grip increased around her hand, and heat shot up his arm. Jerking open the door to the conservatory, he began weaving his way through the room, pulling Elizabeth behind him. When they reached the front hall, he turned towards the grand staircase, stopping short when he saw his butler.

  “Hastings! Where is Miss Darcy?” he called, his voice tight with emotion.

  “In her chambers, sir. Mrs. Reynolds is attending her.”

  With a brief nod, Darcy took to the stairs, Elizabeth following at his heels. At the door to his sister’s apartment he came to a halt, taking a moment to steady his breathing before entering, only remembering to release Elizabeth’s hand as he crossed the threshold.

  Mrs. Gardiner moved from her position at the window as they entered and Darcy strode in her direction. “What has happened?” he demanded.

  “I am afraid Miss Darcy collapsed a short time ago. She is resting now, although I believe she is still in a considerable amount of pain.”

  Bile rose in Darcy’s throat and he quickly turned away, but it was Elizabeth who spoke.

  “I am to blame,” she whispered, causing Darcy to swing around to stare at her with no small amount of surprise.

  “I believe she had a similar episode this morning, when she was helping me to dress,” Elizabeth continued. “I wanted to send for you, but she insisted it was nothing of consequence.”

  Darcy dropped his gaze, raking his fingers through his hair. “No. This is not your failing, Miss Bennet. It is mine. Georgiana has been complaining of these pains for some time. I should have sent for a physician months ago.” Pacing to the window he murmured, “If anything happens to her, I will never forgive myself.”

  Squaring his shoulders, Darcy turned, pulling at the door to his sister’s bedchamber. Inside the adjoining room, Georgiana was curled into a tight ball on the large bed. Mrs. Reynolds sat on the edge of the mattress, a damp cloth pressed against the young girl’s brow.

  Seeing Mr. Darcy enter, Mrs. Reynolds stood, making way for him as he neared the bed.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  As if to answer his question, Georgiana groaned, peering up at him with frightened eyes. “William,” she breathed. “It hurts so much.”

  Darcy sat, stroking his sister’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I know, sweetling. The doctor is on his way.” His eyes found Mrs. Reynolds and his mouth tightened. “Where is Prescott?” he hissed. “He should have been here by now!”

  “I cannot imagine, sir. I dispatched a rider over an hour ago.”

  Before Darcy could respond, a knock sounded on the sitting room door. “Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth called softly, beckoning him with a slight tilt of her head.

  Darcy reached out, squeezing his sister’s fingers. “I will return directly,” he told her gently before following Elizabeth into the adjoining room, pulling the door closed behind him.

  An unknown gentleman stood near the entrance to the outer corridor.

  “Mr. Darcy, this is Dr. Grant.”

  Elizabeth crossed the room and Darcy’s eyes narrowed as the gentleman sketched a bow.

  “Mr. Darcy. I had hoped we would have had the chance to be formally introduced under more pleasant circumstances, however I understand—”

  “Where is Prescott?” Darcy snapped. “We sent for him over an hour ago.”

  The physician’s eyebrows lifted, but he answered evenly, “My apologies, sir. I am afraid Dr. Prescott has been called away on another matter. However, I am happy to attend your sister.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he withdrew a folded sheet of parchment, holding it out to his host. “If I may.”

  Darcy took the note, rapidly scanning the brief missive. When he finished reading, he handed it back and began to pace in tight circles before coming to stand before the unfamiliar gentleman.

  “You are a physician?”

  “Yes, sir. I am also a trained surgeon.”

  A muscle tightened in Darcy’s jaw and he stifled a snort. “My sister does not require a surgeon,” he said, his gaze hardening. “What is your age?”

  The gentleman offered a slow smile. “Five and twenty, sir.”

  “And your training?”

  “I was educated at Oxford. I have spent the past three years apprenticing in Paris for one of France’s most prominent surgeons. I have been practicing with Dr. Prescott since the spring.”

  Darcy rubbed the back of his neck, stalking to the window and staring out into the gardens.

  Behind him, Grant spoke quietly. “Mr. Darcy, I understand your hesitation. But I can assure you that I am perfectly qualified to examine your sister. As the letter from Dr. Prescott indicates—”

  A sharp cry from the next room redirected everyone’s attention and Darcy flinched.

  “Mr. Darcy, your sister appears to be in some distress. If you will grant me permission to see her, I may be able to help.”

  The room was silent for several moments before Darcy offered a curt nod. “Very well. But I wish to be present.”

  Grant’s eyebrows lifted. “I beg your pardon, sir, but I do not believe that would be… That is, I intend to do a thorough examination. I would of course be happy to have any of the ladies of the household present.”

  At the physician’s words, Darcy instantly colored. “Yes… I… Forgive me. My housekeeper is with her.” His eyes wandered to Elizabeth. No. I could not ask it of her…

  As if reading his thoughts, Elizabeth came to stand beside him. “Mr. Darcy, I would be happy to stay with your sister if you wish it.”

  Before Darcy could respond, Mrs. Gardiner placed a hand on her niece’s shoulder. “I do not think that is wise, Lizzy. The sickroom is no place for an unmarried lady. I will go, if Mr. Darcy has no objection?”

  “Nonsense,” Elizabeth answered. “I have been in many a sickroom before, and likely will be in many after today. Though I am certain Mr. Darcy would be happy to have you accompany me.” Turning to Darcy she added, “If you are agreeable, we shall both go.”

  Mrs. Gardiner offered a small frown, but she did not object, and Darcy quickly gave his approbation. “Thank you. I would be most grateful.” Leading the small party to his sister’s chamber, Darcy crossed to the bed before making the necessary introductions.

  “You will notify me as soon as the examination is over?” he asked, turning to Grant.

  “Of course.”

  A brusque nod served as Darcy’s reply, and, with one last look at his sister, he headed for the door.

  ***

  The latch clicked, and the ladies retreated to the foot of the bed. Georgiana
huddled deeper beneath the covers, her expression wary, but Elizabeth noticed that a warm smile crinkled the corners of the physician’s eyes.

  “Miss Darcy, I can see you are in a good deal of discomfort. If you will consent, I would like to examine you to see if I might be able to determine the cause of your distress, and hopefully offer you some relief. Pray, can you tell me exactly where you are feeling the pain?”

  Georgiana flushed, lowering her gaze. Pulling one hand from beneath the bedclothes, she used it to gesture to her abdomen and Dr. Grant nodded.

  “Mrs. Reynolds,” he said softly, “if you would be so kind as to lay Miss Darcy on her back. You may cover her to the waist, but lift her gown enough so that I may see the middle-section of her body.”

  Mrs. Reynolds nodded, moving to the side of the bed as the doctor stepped away, motioning for Mrs. Gardiner to accompany him. Without waiting to be asked, Elizabeth followed her aunt and the physician to a small alcove near the windows.

  “May I be of some assistance, sir?” Mrs. Gardiner asked when they had reached their destination.

  The physician’s eyes darted from one lady to the next, settling briefly on Elizabeth before returning to her aunt. “Yes… I… forgive me, Mrs….

  “Gardiner.”

  “Yes, forgive me, Mrs. Gardiner… I am not certain how well the two of you are acquainted with the family, but I was wondering, that is, is there any chance Miss Darcy might be… with child?”

  Mrs. Gardiner drew in a breath, and her lips parted in surprise. Exchanging a glance with Elizabeth, she turned to study the gentleman. “I am afraid I do not know the lady well, sir. We are merely guests in Mr. Darcy’s home…” She paused for a moment. “However, if you are asking my opinion, I do not think it likely. In addition to the fact that it would seem most out of character, I believe Miss Darcy has been experiencing these symptoms for some duration. Since the winter, at least.”

  The doctor appeared thoughtful, then nodded slowly. “I see. Thank you, Mrs. Gardiner; I appreciate your candor. And pray, forgive me, Miss Bennet. I do apologize for raising an uncomfortable topic. As you can imagine, I did not feel I could ask her brother, and I would prefer not to bring up the subject with Miss Darcy herself… at least for the time being.”