by Robin Helm
Especially since, with such a lively mind, that lady would be very bored once she awakened. There should be some books at hand. Perhaps he could have a few sent to her rooms so she had a choice. Too bad he could not be there to gauge her reaction to the titles he selected for her.
What types of books would she enjoy? History? Biography? Poetry? Plays? Since she knew Latin, mayhap some philosophy? Something lighter, perhaps—a novel? Darcy was sure they had purchased some because Bingley had said that, though it was doubtful his sisters would look at anything but fashion magazines, if they were to read a book, it would be one of the latest novels, but only because other ladies were discussing it.
With that purpose in mind, he went in search of a footman and the appropriate tools.
~%~
Elizabeth was surrounded by a pleasant scent. Masculine. Sandalwood, citrus and something else. Leather? There was a sharp pain in her head and arm, and her body ached, but she knew all would be well because she was in his arms. The horse’s movements were hypnotizing. She looked up into eyes of the deepest brown that seemed to reach straight into her soul. There was an irresistible sense of home. She wanted to stay here forever.
“Mr. Darcy?”
“Lizzy, what is it? Are you well?”
It was Jane’s voice. There was the soft stability of a mattress beneath her. The supple pliancy of a pillow.
She was in bed? Had she been dreaming?
The scent was still there, though not as strong as it had been in the dream.
Elizabeth opened her eyes and blinked several times as the room came into focus. Sunlight streamed through a nearby window. It struck her that she was not squinting.
She smiled. “The light does not add to the pain in my head, Jane.”
“That is wonderful!” her sister exclaimed.
“How long was I asleep?”
“About fourteen hours. Mr. Jones should arrive soon.”
“Fourteen hours?” Elizabeth raised both eyebrows. “How could I possibly sleep that long?”
“I did wake you from time to time as Mr. Jones told me to, but you fell right back to sleep.”
“I do not remember your waking me at all.”
Jane nodded. “I did not think you would. You were quite sleepy. I had worried that perhaps I should force you sit up and eat when Mrs. Curtis brought a tray for us at suppertime, but Mrs. Curtis advised that you needed sleep more than food.”
“Apparently, she was correct, though I am famished.” Elizabeth tried to sit up, but it was not an easy task with one arm. Jane called into the dressing room for help. Sarah stopped briefly at the bell-pull and came to assist them. After piling many pillows behind Elizabeth’s back, she was finally in an upright position when Mrs. Curtis arrived with a breakfast tray.
Elizabeth lifted the cover. It was her favorite morning meal: toast with blackberry jam and a fresh pear. There was also toast with apple-butter for Jane. Obviously, someone had inquired about their preferences.
She took a bite of the toast and hummed her approval, then took a sip of tea. “This is perfect, Mrs. Curtis. Thank you. I feel as if I have not eaten in days.”
“A good appetite is always a good sign.” Mrs. Curtis smiled sweetly. “Now you must help me, Miss Elizabeth. The gentlemen have been asking after you at least every fifteen minutes since dawn. Please do not hold back any details about how you are feeling.”
“It is so kind of them to be concerned,” Jane said.
Elizabeth answered, “I agree. Thank them for me, please, Mrs. Curtis. My head is a bit better, and the light is not affecting me this morning, to my relief. I believe I am a bit less sensitive to sound, as well. I slept very well indeed, which is a bit of a surprise considering this contraption.” She gestured to the wrap Mr. Jones had arranged to immobilize her left arm. “The shoulder is much less painful than it was when I arrived at Netherfield.”
“It sounds like you have made excellent progress.” Mrs. Curtis turned to Jane. “There is some concern about you, too, Miss Bennet. How are you?”
Jane moved from a chair near the bed, which had been in shadow, and into brighter light.
Elizabeth noticed she had dark circles under her eyes. “You must not have slept at all, Jane.”
“I did, Lizzy, just not as much as I normally would.”
“Miss Bennet was worried about you, Miss Elizabeth. Knowing how well you are recovering, she will sleep well tonight, I’m sure.” Mrs. Curtis retreated into the dressing room and returned holding a pillow. She approached and asked if she could look at the ones on the bed.
Curious, Elizabeth leaned forward. Mrs. Curtis rifled through the pile. “Here it is.”
Pulling one pillow loose, she removed the linen casing. She slid the pillow she had brought with her into it, then placed it behind Elizabeth.
“I am so glad I found it! Apparently, Mr. Darcy travels with his own pillow and cannot sleep without it. In all the confusion, we forgot to switch it out last night.”
So that was why she had detected Mr. Darcy’s scent in the room and dreamt of him during the night.
“These were Mr. Darcy’s chambers?”
He gave up them up for me? It must have been why he stormed from the room when Jane told him it would be hours before rooms were ready. How kind.
Mrs. Curtis nodded. “When we opened the house, we had quite a bit of work to do to get it ready for occupation. When Mr. Darcy heard it would be a few hours before we cleaned a room for you, he insisted we clear out his things and allow you to use his rooms to rest.”
Warmth infused Elizabeth’s face. First he saved her life, then he sacrificed his own comfort for her sake?
If she was not careful, she might find herself in the way of falling in love with this man.
She reminded herself that her father mentioned Mr. Darcy had made it very clear that he would have done the same for anyone. She was not special; Mr. Darcy was simply a true gentleman.
About the time Elizabeth and Jane finished eating, a knock upon the door proved to be Sarah, who led Mr. Jones into the room. They brought him up to date on her condition and informed him that she had not even needed the brews he had left with Mrs. Curtis.
Mr. Jones was very pleased.
After his examination, he reapplied clean bandages to her head and side, and then fashioned a sling for Elizabeth to wear instead of having her arm wrapped close to her body, though he suggested if she could not sleep, Jane and Sarah should wrap it again tonight.
“I have not had that problem, sir. I slept much more than I should have.”
“Listen to your body, Miss Elizabeth. If it is telling you to sleep, do so.” He turned to Jane, “I think the danger has passed, and you may stop waking your sister every hour.” He returned his gaze to Elizabeth. “That should help you feel more rested.”
“Perhaps I would sleep better at home in my own bed, sir.”
He chuckled. “I do not recommend it. We do not want a reversal of your progress. However, since I also know that you cannot stay in bed for long, if you are feeling up to it, you can spend some time in the music room in the opposite wing on this level. Do not go any further. And no more stairs until I give you permission.”
His severe expression made it clear that he had heard about her insistence on walking up the stairs instead of being carried.
Jane was innocently concentrating on a crease in her skirt.
When had her sister found time to tell Mr. Jones? “I understand, Mr. Jones.”
He continued, “Make certain you are suitably supported while walking. We do not want you to become dizzy and fall. It is my experience that a second blow to the head within a short period of time would result in a worse prognosis than the first.”
“I agree to your restrictions, sir,” Elizabeth said.
“Good.” He started to pack his instruments into his black bag. “Is your father at Netherfield or shall I ride to Longbourn to speak to him?”
“He said he would come this mor
ning if he could. You might see him on the road to Longbourn if you go straight there.”
He nodded. “I will return tomorrow morning, but if you need me, please do not hesitate to send for me.”
Mr. Jones left them. Sarah scurried into the dressing room to prepare a basin for Elizabeth to wash up as best she could.
Elizabeth turned to Jane. “When did you tell him I walked up the stairs?”
Jane’s blameless expression was so exaggerated, Elizabeth had to grin.
Jane burst out into laughter. “It is not fair, Lizzy. You always catch me.”
“You are so good, you cannot tell even the smallest untruth convincingly.”
Jane shook her head. “I did not mean to make trouble; I simply passed him a note asking if your traversing the stairs was permissible. I did not realize he would deduce that you had already done so.”
“Mr. Jones knows us too well,” Elizabeth answered, thinking back over how many times he had been to her house in a professional capacity over the years between the family’s illnesses, her mother’s nerves, and her own injuries. Then there were times he had been invited for personal visits. Elizabeth and her father also played him at chess.
“Are you feeling well enough to go to the music room now?” Jane asked.
“Yes! I want to move around a bit.”
Sarah entered with the basin, a clean chemise, and bed linens.
“A trunk arrived from Longbourn while you were sleeping. I will select a gown for you to wear while Sarah helps you wash.”
Elizabeth nodded.
Elizabeth had been looking forward to taking a bath, but Sarah recommended she wait.
Goodness, she was sore all over. Although she did not remember how she received them, her ribs were covered with bruises and she had a gash on her side. She was very glad Mr. Jones had forbidden her to wear a corset until they had healed. There were scrapes all along her left leg, too, which pained her when Sarah cleaned them and applied salve.
Elizabeth’s eyes were drooping by the time Jane re-entered the room with the gown she had chosen for Elizabeth to wear.
“How can the simple act of washing make me so tired? I am not sure I can make it down the corridor safely just now.”
“We shall delay our excursion until after you have rested.”
It was so rare that Jane showed a real interest in a gentleman. Elizabeth vowed make every effort to give her the opportunity to get to know Mr. Bingley during their stay.
“Just a short nap,” Elizabeth stated groggily.
While Sarah prepared the bed, Jane helped her to it. Elizabeth closed her eyes. Almost instantly, she was fast asleep.
~%~
After hearing from Mrs. Curtis that though Miss Elizabeth was improving, she would not be able to make the journey down the corridor to the music room, Darcy and Bingley rode to the village to see the blacksmith. From what they had heard, he was the man to talk to about hiring labourers to make repairs on some of Netherfield’s tenant farmhouses.
When all was arranged, Darcy said, “You should speak to the solicitor who handled your lease, Bingley. The owner might deduct the cost of labor and supplies from your next payment.”
They headed to Mr. Phillips’s office. The man was just about to close his door and take luncheon.
“I have heard you both came to the rescue of my niece. I wish to show my appreciation. Please join me.”
“It has been no trouble at all, sir.” Bingley agreed to the invitation. “We were about to have a bite at the inn, but this would be much better.”
Darcy sighed quietly. Miss Elizabeth was Mr. Phillips’s niece? Was a country attorney the best connection the Bennets had?
Over their meal, Mr. Phillips said, “If there was a need for fabric for your new home, Mr. Bingley, or any number of other decorative items, my brother-in-law is a proprietor of an establishment in London where you may find such things at a very fair price. Additionally, I am certain you would receive a discounted price once it is known you came to Lizzy’s aid. I would be happy to write a letter of introduction that you may present to my brother, Mr. Edward Gardiner.”
Bingley wholeheartedly and gratefully accepted. “The moment my sisters arrive, I expect they will examine the house and insist I bring the décor up to date. This connection with Mr. Gardiner would certainly help save on expenses.”
Darcy blinked, horrified. Yes, Mr. Bennet was firmly established as a country gentleman on his side, but it seemed his wife’s family was quite active in trade.
Trade!
What other relations did the Bennets have waiting in the wings?
After their repast, which was surprisingly good, Mr. Phillips, Bingley, and Darcy poured over a map of the area so Mr. Phillips could detail for the owner of Netherfield which tenant farms required improvement. The map just happened to have hand-drawn outlines of all the surrounding estates.
When Darcy saw the size of Longbourn, he became too distracted to listen to their conversation any longer. In his estimation, Mr. Bennet could earn no more than two thousand a year.
Once Bingley had finished his business, the gentlemen stopped at the Meryton bookshop, purchased a few more items to add to Bingley’s collection, and then returned to Netherfield. Upon their arrival, they were promptly informed that they had missed Mr. and Mrs. Bennet’s visit. Apparently, Miss Elizabeth was still very tired so the ladies would not be joining them for the remainder of the day.
Darcy had never seen Bingley so disappointed. He himself was feeling inexplicably dissatisfied for absolutely no apparent reason.
They moved through their evening by rote, with neither saying very much to the other. After their brandy, they retired early.
~%~
When Elizabeth awakened again, the windows were dark. It took a few moments to realize the drapes were open. She had slept the entire day away—again.
“I am sorry, Jane. Have you been forced to remain in this room all day?”
“Actually, Sarah remained with you when Mama and Papa stopped in to see you. Since Mr. Jones instructed that I should allow you to sleep, I met them in the parlour where I first saw you yesterday.”
“I am sorry I missed them.”
Knowing her mother, she already had her heart set on these two gentlemen marrying her daughters by next summer. Upon her arrival here, the only question in her mind would have been which daughter would marry which gentleman. If they were present in the parlour during their visit, she would already have that worked out. Elizabeth hoped she had been discreet in her observations, though she had little confidence.
It seemed Jane read her mind. “The gentlemen were out at the time.”
Thank goodness.
A maid brought in a tray with their supper. By the time they were finished eating, Elizabeth’s energy was already waning.
~%~
No matter what position he tried, Darcy could not get comfortable. His mind was too active. He rose, donned his robe, and went to stand by the window.
Netherfield’s grounds were illuminated with moonlight. It really was a pleasant estate. Bingley would do well here if he chose to purchase it eventually.
Darcy’s thoughts would not remain on Bingley or his property.
There was no avoiding the subject of Miss Elizabeth. After reviewing, once again, all that he had learned of the Bennet family during the day, he was very aware of their standing in society as a whole.
If he happened to meet with one of the Bennets in Town, it would be a disaster. Every single one of his relations would die of mortification if he did anything more than bow in the Bennets’ direction.
I must avoid Miss Elizabeth, he thought, than shook his head. I shall avoid the entire Bennet family. I must make myself scarce whenever the ladies leave Miss Elizabeth’s rooms.
Satisfied with his resolution, he returned to bed. Curiously enough, however, he continued to toss and turn the remainder of the night.
CHAPTER 5
Darcy had made his decisi
on, and since he had thought of little else since, it made absolutely no sense that, upon returning to the house after their morning ride, when Mrs. Curtis informed them that Miss Elizabeth was feeling well enough to traipse down the corridor for a change of scenery, he experienced a burning need to rush through his toilette so he could come here, to the music room, and wait. All the while, he found himself anxiously hoping that Miss Elizabeth did not suffer a relapse and have to cancel her outing.
In fact, after not seeing her the entire day yesterday, he felt if he did not have the opportunity to lay eyes on her and speak to her very soon, he might actually perish.
He stopped pacing and inhaled deeply. It is quite possible I have gone mad!
“What is wrong, Darcy?” Bingley asked.
He shook his head to end his stupor. “Why do you ask?”
Bingley laughed. “You look as though the devil himself had just walked up to greet you.”
Darcy ignored the comment. “What are we doing here, Bingley? It is the middle of the day. We should be hunting or fishing, or riding out to the tenant houses to check on the progress of the labourers.”
“We just returned from doing exactly that, Darcy.” Bingley’s expression was one of exaggerated concern. “Are you sure all is right with you?”
Annoyed, he answered, “I am fine.”
Bingley seemed satisfied. “Well then, to answer your question, we are here awaiting the ladies.”
Darcy clenched his jaw. “Have you checked with Mrs. Curtis? Are they coming, or have you assumed they are? Are we wasting our time here, Bingley?”
“They are, at this very moment, preparing to join us.”
As Bingley finished his pronouncement, the door opened. Bingley sprang from his chair and moved towards it.
In came Miss Bennet. Bingley stopped short, his grin was so wide the corners of his lips almost reached his ears.
Miss Bennet looked up, smiled at Bingley, and then blushed heartily as she turned to push the door open wider.