Mr. Darcy's Letter

by Abigail Reynolds

  “There, that will ease the pain a little. The wound itself is shallow and has already begun to knit. It would have given you no difficulties if there were not an abscess preventing healing. It must be lanced if the wound is to heal cleanly, but perhaps you would prefer to have your doctor do that rather than me.”

  For some reason, he felt safer in her care than he ever had with London’s finest physicians. “I would be just as glad to have it over as soon as possible.”

  She spared him a keen glance, and he had no doubt she saw straight through him. “Very well. I will need a sharp knife. Shall I bring Mr. Gardiner to hold your arm during the lancing?”

  “I can manage,” he said stiffly.

  She shook her head with a smile. “Men are all the same.”

  ***

  Elizabeth took advantage of her aunt’s absence to disregard her orders to leave Mr. Darcy alone. She slipped into the room quietly. His eyes were closed, but he opened them when she sat in the bedside chair.

  “Elizabeth, you should not be here,” he said.

  “If you are here, then I should be here,” she said firmly.

  He did not seem inclined to fight. “Your aunt would have made a fine sergeant-at-arms.”

  “She does not tolerate disobedience?” Elizabeth teased.

  “Not a bit of it.” He reached out his left hand to her, and she grasped it. “Elizabeth, I am sorry. I truly do not mean to be troublesome. I had hoped you need never know about what happened that day.”

  “I had worked that much out on my own,” she said archly. “But I am glad to know. I dislike secrets, and it explains a great deal. I had wondered about the brevity of the letters I received from you.”

  He had the grace to look guilty. “I wanted to pour out my heart to you in those letters, but it was all I could do to write a few sentences.”

  Mrs. Gardiner bustled in with a basket of linens and implements. She stopped short at the sight of Elizabeth. “You are not supposed to be here.”

  “Because the sight of Mr. Darcy without his coat might give me a fit of the vapors? That would be unfortunate, given that we are to be married.”

  “You may prefer not to be present for the next part.”

  Elizabeth glanced at Darcy. “Do you wish me to stay or to go?”

  His face reflected indecision. “I would not wish you to stay if you had rather not.”

  She decided to ignore his gentlemanly nonsense. “I will stay.”

  Mrs. Gardiner shrugged lightly, as if to say no one should blame her for the outcome. She raised the wet cloth covering his wound and probed lightly around it, causing the gentleman to wince. “Are you ready for the lancing?” she said gently.

  “Yes,” Darcy said tersely, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth.

  “Hold still.” Mrs. Gardiner took a deep breath and made a small incision with the knife.

  Darcy held Elizabeth’s hand so tightly that she wondered if she would have any sensation in it when he was done, but no sound escaped his whitened lips.

  “That is all,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “It is draining nicely.” She swabbed at his arm with a damp cloth. A foul odor, like that of a long dead animal, filled the room. “Ah, yes, it is good that we did this now.”

  Darcy stiffly turned his head toward Mrs. Gardiner. “The pain is less,” he said with an air of surprise.

  Mrs. Gardiner opened a window onto the garden. “That is because the pressure is relieved. It should heal more easily now.” She bundled up the soiled linens. “Do not move your arm. It needs to continue to drain. I will return shortly to check it.” She smiled at them both before departing, leaving the door open.

  “My poor love,” Elizabeth said.

  “I do not know whether to be grateful that your aunt is allowing us some time together or annoyed that she thinks me so disabled that there is no danger in leaving us alone in a bedroom,” Darcy grumbled.

  Elizabeth laughed. “Perhaps she trusts me to prevent you from injuring yourself further. It is in my best interest for your arm to heal quickly, you know.” She pressed a kiss on his good hand, noting an odd bruise over the knuckles.

  “She seems knowledgeable about healing.”

  “Her father was an apothecary and her mother a midwife. She learned from assisting them, and we are the beneficiaries.” She watched his face closely to see how he would react to these details of Mrs. Gardiner’s low connections.

  “I am in good hands, then.” He closed his eyes.

  A few minutes later his breathing became deep and even. It made Elizabeth realize how truly exhausted he must be, and she felt a pang of guilt for having quarreled with him in that state. Of course, she had not known his true condition then. She smiled, taking the opportunity to gently brush a stray lock of hair from his damp forehead, pausing to caress his cheek. He turned his head to nuzzle against her hand, and she held her breath for fear she had awakened him. Apparently she had not; it must have been instinct that caused his response. Her heart almost ached with love for him, and tears burned the corners of her eyes at the thought of how close she had come to ending their engagement.

  Elizabeth could have sat there and watched him sleep all day, but after half an hour Colonel Fitzwilliam joined her. “Asleep, is he? Good, he needs it,” he said softly. “Apparently he was awake most of the night.”

  There was a question in his voice.

  “It has been a difficult time,” she said.

  “If it is not impertinent to ask, have you set a date yet for your wedding?”

  Elizabeth bit her lip, recalling Darcy’s earlier request. “We had planned it for about a month from now. We have only been engaged for three weeks, after all. He would prefer it to be sooner, so perhaps a fortnight might be better.”

  “Mrs. Gardiner says he must stay here tonight. At least that will obviate the necessity for him to sneak past me and travel across town to see you.”

  “I did not sneak,” Darcy said. “I simply walked out the door as I always do.”

  “The sleeper has awakened, and just in time,” the colonel said. “I have been questioning your lovely intended regarding when you will be wed.”

  Mr. Gardiner’s voice came from the doorway. “An interesting question. My wife tells me that Mr. Darcy would like to marry as soon as possible in case his arm worsens.”

  Elizabeth turned accusing eyes on Darcy. He shrugged guiltily. “It seemed wise,” he said.

  Mrs. Gardiner followed her husband into the room. “I am not worried about his arm, but they have such a talent for misunderstanding each other that I would be happy to see them wed before they can do so again.”

  She blithely ignored her niece’s glare.

  Mr. Gardiner crossed his arms. “Whereas I believe it would be a good idea because it would counteract much of the current gossip. It is not in his best interest, or yours, to have any attention drawn to his current state of health. So far, very few people are aware of his injury, and it would be best to keep it that way. Dueling is, after all, illegal.”

  “Not to mention foolish,” said Elizabeth tartly.

  Her aunt failed to hide a smile. “That, too, though I doubt we women will ever manage to convince men of that. But the fact remains that the best way to preserve the secrecy of the matter is to take away the cause of the gossip. If you and he are married, there will be much less interest in the matter, and with the added advantage that no one will be surprised that a newlywed couple prefers to keep to themselves and avoid society.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. “I am far more selfish. I want them to marry right away because if Elizabeth is living at Darcy House, Darcy might actually stay there as he is supposed to.”

  Mrs. Gardiner cleared her throat. “Gentlemen, I suppose this is when I should mention that Lizzy does not like to be told what to do.”

  “She and Darcy will get on famously in that case,” said the colonel acidly. “He never listens to reason.”

  “Richard,” said Darcy with a warning in his voice.


  Elizabeth leaned down to speak softly in Darcy’s ear. “I think we should ignore them all and marry immediately for no reason other than because we want to do so.”

  Darcy promptly demonstrated that there was nothing at all amiss with his left arm by using it to pull her close enough to him to deliver a tender kiss. “I like that idea,” he murmured.

  The colonel threw his hands up. “I have changed my mind. It does not signify whether Elizabeth is living at Darcy House, but they had best marry before they drive the rest of us to Bedlam.”

  Mr. Gardiner rubbed his hands together. “Since we are all in agreement, we have some arrangements to make. We will need a clergyman, a license, and a ring.”

  Darcy pointed to his coat hanging over a chair. “If you look in the pocket, you will find a license and my mother’s wedding band. It was always intended for my bride.” He glanced at Elizabeth with the slightest of smiles.

  Mr. Gardiner raised an eyebrow. “You are prepared, I see.”

  “I have been prepared, as you say, since the day after Miss Elizabeth honored me with her acceptance of my hand.”

  Elizabeth’s uncle donned his spectacles and examined the paper. “A special license, I see. That makes it simpler. I suggest that we hold the ceremony here, since we have that option. I will undertake finding someone to perform it.”

  Darcy raised himself on his good arm. “You need not trouble yourself, sir. I will take that upon myself.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam strode to the bed, his eyes narrowed. “You are going to stay exactly where you are without moving a muscle. I will find a minister.”

  “I do not need you to tell me what I am capable of!”

  The colonel leaned over his cousin, resting one hand on each side of him and spoke very slowly and clearly. “Darcy, you are fortunate that we are in the presence of ladies, or I would tell you precisely what I think you are capable of. You will tell me what you wish to be done, and I will do it. That is not a suggestion, in case you were wondering.”

  “I did not wonder at all,” muttered Darcy darkly.

  Mrs. Gardiner favored them all with an amused smile. “While we are making suggestions, Mr. Darcy, I would request that you remain here tonight where I can keep an eye on your arm.”

  “I will be happy to follow your advice, Mrs. Gardiner,” said Darcy.

  “Then we will leave you to rest,” she said, gesturing to her husband to accompany her.

  Elizabeth chose to believe that this suggestion did not apply to her and resumed her seat beside the bed.

  “Is there anything I can get you for your comfort?” she asked.

  “I thank you, no, but I must write to Georgiana at Netherfield. She should learn the news from me rather than from strangers. And no later than tomorrow I must call on Bingley, as we still have some matters to resolve.”

  Elizabeth stood, and for a moment he feared she would leave, but instead she merely moved to perch on the side of the bed, only inches from him. “Perhaps you could dictate a letter to Georgiana to me. And we could send a note to Bingley inviting him to call on you here. Is he aware of your injury?”

  Darcy’s mouth twisted. “It would be hard for him to be unaware of it, as he was one of my seconds, along with my cousin.”

  “Then he will understand.”

  “He has enough to deal with, given the scandal of his broken engagement.”

  “Then perhaps he might be happy for a reason to leave London. He could deliver your letter to Georgiana at Netherfield.”

  “The post will suffice, without Bingley taking that trouble.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Why, do you suppose Mr. Bingley would object to having an excuse to travel to Hertfordshire?”

  “Ah.” Darcy nodded. His mind must be more muddled with pain and brandy than he had thought. It was a good thing Elizabeth was by his side.

  ***

  The following morning, Colonel Fitzwilliam returned with the same man of the cloth who had performed Lydia’s wedding. He was either remarkably unsurprised by the request to perform a sudden wedding for a member of the ton in a tradesman’s house or the colonel had lined his pockets well for his trouble and cooperation.

  Elizabeth decided philosophically that this impromptu wedding was a fitting conclusion to their odd courtship. It would have been almost anticlimactic to have a traditional service after the long and rocky road she and Darcy had travelled. Fortunately, she had never been one to dream of her own wedding; that had been something she left to Jane.

  To no one’s surprise, Darcy insisted on standing for his wedding, although he agreed to wear a sling of Mrs. Gardiner’s creation. The event was lent an air of festivity by the extreme excitement of the eldest Miss Gardiner, whom Elizabeth had asked with great solemnity to do her the honour of standing up with her, making the ten year old feel very grown up indeed. Her brother Henry pouted over not being given the same privilege by Mr. Darcy, but was eventually brought to a grudging agreement that Colonel Fitzwilliam, as Darcy’s blood kin, had precedence over him.

  “Then I will hold Lion,” he announced. “He wants to come to the wedding.”

  “And who may Lion be?” asked Darcy with what he thought was admirable patience.

  Young Henry favored him with the incredulous look reserved by the very young for hopelessly muddled adults. “The puppy, of course.”

  Elizabeth had completely forgotten the puppy in all the excitement after turning him over to the kitchen maid the day before. “Lion?” she asked dubiously. It would take a great stretch of the imagination to think that the adorable springer spaniel puppy looked at all like a lion.

  Mrs. Gardiner made a tutting sound. “According to Nurse, your dog spent most of the night in the nursery, since the only other choice seemed to be having the children sleep on the floor of the kitchen with him.”

  “Very well, then,” said Elizabeth with a laugh. “You shall hold Lion, then, Henry, but only if you fetch him this very minute, because we are about to begin.”

  All these complications and distractions were quickly forgotten by Elizabeth at the sight of the expression on Darcy’s face when her uncle brought her to stand by his side in front of the cross that served as a makeshift altar. She remembered what he had said about Lydia’s wedding, that he had been making the same vows silently to her that day. Now they were before the same clergyman, repeating those same vows. They had come full circle.

  She regretted only the absence of her family, though she supposed it would have been far too much for her mother’s nerves. Still, she would have liked Jane to be present, and her father to give her away instead of her uncle, but afterwards, when Mrs. Gardiner took Elizabeth’s face between her hands and said, “Mrs. Darcy -

  how fine that sounds, and how happy you will be,” Elizabeth would have been hard pressed to think of any way in which her wedding could have been improved upon.

  Bingley arrived as they were sharing a celebratory glass of wine - watered down to practically nothing in the case of Miss Gardiner and her brother - in the sitting room, with both Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mrs.

  Gardiner keeping a gimlet eye on Darcy to ascertain that he took no unnecessary risks with his arm. Mr.

  Bingley’s astonishment at being introduced to Mrs. Darcy was only increased by the contradictory explanations he received as to why the ceremony had been performed with such alacrity. “I cannot understand a word of it,”

  he proclaimed, “but I will be happy to join you in toasting the health and happiness of Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.” If his own countenance revealed a certain degree of sadness, no one in the party saw fit to remark upon it.

  Darcy took him aside to ask him if he would deliver a letter to Netherfield. “I do not wish Georgiana to learn of our wedding from a stranger, nor for her to believe that our haste had to do with anything besides impatience, but Elizabeth has been quite firm in insisting that I am not ready to travel such a distance myself.

  Would it be too much to ask
for you to break the news to her?”

  “I will be happy to do so,” said Bingley stoutly.

  “You have my thanks. I believe Elizabeth is also writing a letter to her family; perhaps you could carry that as well, if you do not object to calling at Longbourn?”

  “That will not be a problem.” Then his countenance suddenly brightened with a smile. “No, I can see no difficulty with paying a visit to Longbourn.”

  Darcy gave Bingley’s shoulder a friendly shove with his good hand. “Good for you, my friend. And Godspeed, although hopefully when you take the step I did today, it will be in a less precipitate manner!”

  Bingley smirked at him. “You do not appear unhappy with the outcome.”

  Darcy looked over at Elizabeth and his gaze softened. “No, I cannot complain of unhappiness at all.”