Rocks in the Stream

by Lewis Whelchel

  “Mr. Darcy, what shall we do?”

  Darcy clenched his eyes shut as the answer to her question presented itself in the form of a dreaded memory.

  “When my mother was ill, before she . . . she . . . We need to cool Miss Elizabeth and bring the fever down. I will fetch some ice from the icehouse. We will break it up, wrap it in cloth, and lay it around her head and shoulders. I will return immediately. Stay with her.”

  He ran down the stairs and through the door at the rear of the house. Crossing the lawn, he came to a door set in a small rise in the ground next to a large tree. Opening it, he went down a few steps and then passed through two more doors and into a chamber lined in brick and straw. Sheets of ice were stacked on shelves lining the walls. He used a hammer to break off chunks and slivers of ice, which he placed in a bag and carried back to the house.

  Once again at Elizabeth’s bedside, he took out ice chips, wrapped them in damp cloths, and placed them around her neck, on her shoulders, and across her forehead. Contrary to their hopes, the ice was not immediately effective. Elizabeth continued to moan and began to thrash about.

  When he had done all he could do, he took her hand and spoke to her gently, encouraging her with soft words and urging her to rest and be still.

  “Miss Bennet,” he said, pouring out his heart, “Elizabeth, shh . . . you will be fine. We are caring for you and all will be well. Please do not be afraid. I will not leave you alone. Please, Elizabeth, shh . . . ”

  Repeating his entreaties, he began to caress her hand. Despite the assurances he gave her, he was afraid for her. He knew his mother had been treated with ice when she was feverish before she had died, and that in her case, it had been to no avail. He knew he had to be strong for Elizabeth, so making every effort to bury his own fear, he continued his ministrations to her.

  He alternately refreshed the ice and wiped her skin dry, never ceasing to speak softly to her in a manner he hoped was soothing and calming. His mother had spoken to him in this way when he had been ill as a boy, and he hoped for the same efficacy with Elizabeth.

  Darcy did not notice the passing of time. All his thoughts were focused on comforting Elizabeth and cooling her with the ice. Very gradually, it appeared that his efforts began to make a difference. She became quiet, she stopped moving about, and a look of peace overspread her face.

  Exhausted, Darcy sat back in his chair, still holding her hand, still speaking softly to her. He would not leave her. The emergency passed, his eyes slowly closed, and he drifted off to sleep.

  * * * * *

  ANNE HAD FALLEN ASLEEP IN her seat by the table, but she awakened when her scissors fell off her lap onto the floor. The light of dawn began to show through the window, and as Anne was certain that Mr. Darcy would not wish it to be known that he had passed the night in Miss Elizabeth’s bedchamber, she walked over to his chair and touched his shoulder. His eyes flickered opened. “Mr. Darcy, she is sleeping peacefully.”

  He observed Elizabeth narrowly for a moment. “Yes, she seems to be.”

  “I will continue to watch over her. Dawn is approaching, and you should return to your room. You have saved her, sir. The emergency has passed.”

  He was still holding Elizabeth’s hand, which he placed beside her on the sheet, for they had taken the blanket off her long ago.

  “Do you think she is cold now?”

  Anne touched Miss Elizabeth’s cheek. “She seems to be comfortable now. I will watch her closely, and I will send you word if her condition changes.”

  “Please do that.” He was feeling the effects of being up most of the night but did not regret his decision to nurse Elizabeth.

  “Thank you for your help, sir. I did not know what to do. Thank you again and again.”

  * * * * *

  WHEN THE OTHERS HAD ARISEN for the day and gathered in the breakfast room, Miss Bingley could not help commenting on Darcy’s appearance. “Mr. Darcy, did you not sleep well? Is there anything I may do for you?”

  “No, I thank you.”

  “You seem so tired and distracted. Are you unwell?”

  “I am quite well, thank you.” He would not admit to his weariness nor confess to anyone how he had spent the night.

  “May I pour you some tea? Would you like another muffin? May I get you anything?”

  All he wished was for her to refrain from speaking to him. His head ached, and the muscles in his neck and arms felt stiff.

  “No, nothing! Please do not concern yourself.” Darcy responded more heatedly than he intended. He stood and went to the sideboard for more tea. Miss Bingley did not press him further.

  * * * * *

  IT WAS BECOMING UNBEARABLE. THE wait for Elizabeth to wake up was trying Darcy’s patience. How much longer would she remain asleep? He had to see her. Earlier than appropriate, but no later than he could tolerate, he was off to Elizabeth’s bedchamber. He knocked on the door, waiting expectantly for Anne to open it.

  A new voice — one that he had never heard before — beckoned to him.

  “Please come in.”

  He was astonished at the feelings of gratitude that coursed through him when he considered that it was in all likelihood Elizabeth answering his request. He forced himself to open the door slowly and entered the room with some show of restraint.

  He was greeted by the warmest smile he had ever received, one which he could not help returning.

  “Please come in, sir,” Elizabeth repeated cheerfully.

  Her voice touched his soul. He felt soothed, invigorated, and refreshed just from the sound of it.

  He walked over to the foot of the bed. “Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy,” he said, bowing slightly. “I am a friend of Charles Bingley, whose residence this is. I did not expect you to be awake. Please forgive me for intruding on your privacy.” He tried to turn to leave, feeling most uncomfortable in this situation, but he could not tear himself away from her. As he looked into her luminous eyes for the first time, their beauty quite overcame him. He had never seen anything so remarkable as her eyes. When she smiled at him, she positively glowed.

  “Please, do not leave, sir, and please do not feel ill at ease. Allow me to express my gratitude.” Elizabeth paused. When she saw that he no longer intended to leave, she continued. “I am Elizabeth Bennet, and I believe I have you to thank for rescuing me and bringing me here. Thank you for your kindness.”

  “It was not kindness, I assure you. I —”

  With a blush, she interrupted him. “And I also thank you for nursing me last night. Anne tells me that you very likely saved my life.”

  Not wishing to discomfit Elizabeth and feeling quite uncomfortable himself, he did not comment on her last remark. “Bingley and I came upon you as we were traveling to Netherfield. It has been our pleasure to care for you.” His heart went out to her, and it was painful to take his eyes away from her.

  “I must thank Mr. Bingley as well, it seems, sir.”

  “Your elder sister came yesterday.”

  “Jane? Jane was here?”

  “She was very upset at first. You see, we did not know who you were for three days, and did not know to whom we should send word of your condition and whereabouts.”

  “I was asleep for three days?”

  “You were, and we all feared for you exceedingly,” he said painfully. “I am — we are all grateful that you are awake now.”

  There was no mistaking the tone of his voice, she thought. He had been quite concerned about her.

  “I am surprised at how weak I feel for having slept so long. Anne told me she was to inform you immediately when I woke up. I begged her not to so that I could be more recovered when you might come to visit me as she said you would.” Elizabeth colored and looked at her hands.

  Darcy glanced at Anne and chuckled. “Yes, I have come regularly since you arrived. Perhaps I might be allowed to come and visit you again later when you have had the opportunity to regain your strength?”
<
br />   “I would like that very much, Mr. Darcy. Thank you.” Elizabeth’s voice wrapped itself around Darcy’s heart, and he felt himself weakening. Her beauty threatened to overwhelm him. How he longed to take her in his arms.

  “Until later, Miss Bennet.”

  “Very well, Mr. Darcy.”

  Chapter 4

  DARCY SHUT THE DOOR OF Elizabeth’s room behind him, feeling heady with excitement that she was awake and that she had asked him to stay and talk with her. The musical sound of her voice filled his body. Her eyes were beautiful. Their dark color matched her hair and gave symmetry to her face.

  The thought that he had imagined himself in grave danger from a woman that he did not know made him laugh. Nonetheless, he was experiencing an immediate kinship with her. He felt bound to her as if somehow they were connected. He knew she would be gentle but not passive. She would be confident but not arrogant. He knew she would be witty and intelligent but not conceited. She was beautiful, but she would not know it herself.

  Unfortunately, he also knew by now that the younger Miss Bennets had no dowry, no estate to inherit, and no position in fashionable society. As he reflected on his new relationship with Elizabeth, he realized that this had been apparent to him when he found her on the trail. Women of consequence would not deem it appropriate to dare the solitude of the country, let alone go out of doors unaccompanied.

  * * * * *

  ELIZABETH FELT THAT MR. DARCY held her at quite an advantage. He knew much more of her than she did of him. Consequently, after he had gone away, she began to seek more information about him from Anne. “Please tell me what you know about Mr. Darcy.”

  “I really do not know him. Indeed, we all moved to Netherfield the day he found you and carried you here. He is a kind gentleman, and I told you that he is always coming to see you.”

  Always coming to see me, she repeated to herself.

  “He is very handsome, and the sound of his voice pleases me.” Elizabeth rolled onto her side to look at Anne. It seemed to her as though she recognized his voice. He must have spoken to her a great deal during his visits.

  “I brought Mr. Darcy here last night when your fever was at its worst. I was very frightened. He held your hand and spoke very softly to you the whole night. It was his idea to cool you with ice.”

  Elizabeth was a little surprised at the intimacy he assumed with her. “What did he say to me?”

  “I did not hear the words, but I remember that the sound was calming and comforting.” Anne looked back at her work.

  “That I can believe. I feel very safe with him.”

  Elizabeth settled back into the bed, burrowing deeper under the blankets, content for the moment with what she had learned. He was a handsome, strongly built man who carried a determined look in his eye. She felt he was a quiet man, though possessed of great feeling.

  Elizabeth tried to understand Mr. Darcy. From what little she knew of him, he appeared to be very gentlemanly, though not unwilling to defy convention when it suited him. Indeed, his constant attendance on her while she was sleeping could be deemed most improper, and when he administered the iced and damp cloths, he had gone beyond the bounds of propriety. She had no quarrel with him and was quite grateful. She knew she should be on her guard, but how could she resist such a man?

  * * * * *

  EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, JANE was pleased to receive a note from Netherfield written in a strong, masculine hand. The news was the very thing for which she had been hoping and praying.

  Netherfield

  Miss Bennet,

  Please excuse the liberty I am taking in writing to you, but I know you will forgive me when I tell you that Miss Elizabeth awoke this morning and is in good spirits.

  I know that she would appreciate a visit from her family, and Mr. Bingley has asked that I extend an invitation to you to come to your sister just as soon as may be.

  I do not wish to alarm you, but Miss Elizabeth was very feverish last night. However, in the early morning hours, we got the better of it, and she slept peacefully for the remainder of the night. She is resting now, or I am certain she would have undertaken the task of writing to you herself.

  I will look forward to seeing you and your family.

  Sincerely,

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  * * * * *

  ON READING THE MISSIVE, FEELINGS of relief and gratitude swelled in Jane’s breast as she realized that all her wishes for her sister had been answered. She was alarmed at the news of the difficult night Elizabeth had passed, but apparently, she had been carefully attended. In Jane’s mind, the person responsible for that care could only have been Mr. Darcy himself, otherwise, how could he have known of her condition in the “early morning hours?” The service he had rendered to her sister was invaluable. His compassion exceeded any limits she had ever established as reasonable and generous. While Jane was grateful to Mr. Darcy, she wished that she had been the one to care for Elizabeth. Surely, it was her place.

  * * * * *

  “IT IS A FAIR PROSPECT, is it not, girls?” said Mrs. Bennet to Jane and Mary, who were accompanying her in the carriage.

  On reading Mr. Darcy’s note, Mrs. Bennet had been mildly alarmed, but as that same note brought reassurances that Elizabeth was recovering apace, her thoughts turned once again to more pleasing subjects.

  Her comment on the prospect of Netherfield was more a statement of fact to herself than an inquiry that she cared to have answered. Mrs. Bennet wanted to thank Mr. Bingley and his sister for their kindness towards her daughter and do all in her power to forward some kind of a match. She considered Lizzy and Jane, and Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Somewhere in that combination an attachment could be formed, and she would see one of her daughters well married.

  “Everything about Netherfield is beautiful, Mama,” Jane remarked. “What do you think, Mary?”

  Mary had not bothered to look out the window to see the house. She had seen it before. “I think that the beauty of a home is not determined by its outward appearances, but by the quality of the relationships of those that live within. A modest home may be a mansion, while a great estate may be a prison.” Mary was proud of her opinion. She thought it showed an uncommon degree of intelligence.

  “Oh, Mary, hush girl! It is a beautiful house,” scolded Mrs. Bennet as she leaned towards the window to admire the place.

  A footman came out to meet the ladies and handed them out of the carriage. They ascended the stairs to the door where they were met by a servant.

  “We are here to see Mr. Bingley,” said Jane with a smile for the servant.

  “Yes, ma’am. This way, please. Mr. Bingley is in the drawing room.”

  The ladies followed the servant, who announced their arrival. Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, and Miss Bingley stood to greet them, and the men and women exchanged bows and curtsies. Jane found herself immediately under the scrutiny of Miss Bingley.

  “Mrs. Bennet, you have a charming little family,” said Miss Bingley with mocking civility. “I am sure that Miss Bennet takes a prodigious good deal of care of you all.”

  “Not such a little family. I have two more daughters at home, and Jane does take very good care of us. She inherited Longbourn after her father passed away some years ago, and manages the affairs of the estate to the advantage of all her family.”

  Miss Bingley was astonished. “Miss Bennet, you are in possession of an estate?”

  “Yes. By law it is mine, I suppose, but I view it as my family’s home.”

  “Of course, you do,” said Miss Bingley dryly.

  “Mr. Bingley, you have a fine looking room here. Netherfield Park is such a delightful place. I hope you will never wish to leave it.” Mrs. Bennet surveyed the room, looking for an indication as to the wealth of the two gentlemen.

  “For now, I consider myself quite fixed here, I assure you.”

  “Do you not wish to go into Town for the season?” asked Darcy. The Bingleys and Mr. Darcy spent part of each year in London
. Bingley’s intention to remain in the country took Darcy by surprise.

  Bingley looked directly at Jane. “No, I am quite content to remain just where I am.”

  Darcy followed Bingley’s line of sight until his eyes rested on Miss Bennet. Darcy could not tell whether Bingley was serious or this was just another one of the passing love interests he seemed to stumble into each time he went somewhere new.

  “I am sorry, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley. “I am certain you did not come to talk to us but to see your daughter. Please, allow me to show you to her room.” The ladies followed Bingley from the room.

  When they were alone, Miss Bingley had some private words for Darcy. “I fear that my brother is going to make a fool of himself with Jane Bennet. You saw, I am sure, the way he was staring at her.”

  “She is an attractive woman. I cannot blame him.”

  “But you know how quickly he falls ‘in love,’ as he calls it, every time he meets a pretty face. With his charm and good looks, he is very capable of making any woman love him.”

  “Your brother is a handsome, amiable man. I know of no one who feels anything but the highest respect for him. It should not surprise you that women are attracted to him.”

  “Yes, but Jane Bennet . . . ” She paused to calm herself. It would not do for Mr. Darcy to see her discomfited by the likes of Miss Bennet.

  “Pray, continue.”

  “Jane Bennet will be no different from the others, and you know there have been many others, and —”

  “Harmless flirtations, Miss Bingley. That is all.”

  Pressing her point, she spoke quickly. “She is just another fortune hunter seeking an easy conquest, and my brother will fall under her power if we do not prevent it.”

  Miss Bingley’s frustration was growing. She was counting on her brother making an excellent marriage in order to increase her own importance so that Mr. Darcy would consider her a worthy match.