The Trials of the Honorable F. Darcy

by Sara Angelini

  “I have no wish to be in anyone else’s company,” she replied, smiling at him. “Either socially or intimately,” she added softly.

  “Elizabeth...” he began and stopped himself. She looked at him expectantly. He shook his head and looked away. She watched him for a moment until he looked back at her. Whatever he had been about to say, it had passed. She leaned back on her elbows and crossed her ankles. She closed her eyes and dipped her head back, breathing in deeply. A second later, she smelled him and then his lips were on hers.

  Darcy kissed her tenderly and eased her back onto the ground. He deepened his kiss as she put her arms around his neck. He became more passionate and then broke the kiss, pulling away.

  “No, don’t stop,” she smiled and pulled him back to her.

  “We are in the middle of a field,” he said against her neck.

  “Then we are full circle,” she replied, recalling their first kiss. It struck a chord within him and soon they were making love under the willow tree. He had never made love outside before and it was exhilarating to feel the dappled sun on his back as he lay over her. A breeze ruffled over them and he shivered. The sound of the trickling brook was more atmospheric than any music. He looked down at her naked form, so perfect in its naturalness, and breathed in her scent. Their journey to bliss in each other’s bodies was relaxed and slow. The sun was dipping toward the horizon when they parted.

  Elizabeth lay with her head in the crook of his shoulder while he stroked her hair. She heard the solid thumping of his heart, which not long ago had been so rapid. She traced a circle on his chest with her fingertip.

  “I will miss this,” she said quietly. He kissed the top of her head and ran his hand over her arm in a gesture of warmth and tenderness. After a moment, he said quietly,

  “You smell like pears. Always, no matter what perfume you are wearing or whether you are sweating; I always smell pears. For the rest of my life, Lizzy, I shall never be able to eat a pear without thinking of you.” The thought made them both solemn. They lay still for a while longer and then both felt there was nothing more to say. They rose by mutual agreement and dressed quietly. Darcy plucked blades of grass from her hair with a smile and kissed her again.

  He went to fetch the horse and then helped her mount it. Before he swung onto the horse himself, she said

  “Your fence needs mending. Something has broken through.” She pointed to a gap in the fence and without thinking he dropped the reins and went to examine it. Before he had gone five steps, he heard her shriek and turned just in time to see the horse rear her onto the ground. He saw her head bounce off the ground with a sickening crack. He immediately rushed to her.

  “Elizabeth! My God! Are you OK?” He fell to the ground beside her where she was lying with eyes opened to the sky. She was obviously dazed but was conscious. Reassured that she was not unconscious, he hurried to secure the horse so that it would not desert them and then rushed back to her.

  “Elizabeth! Lizzy! Can you hear me?” he said as he held her hand.

  “Yes, I’m OK, I’m just stunned and had the breath knocked out of me,” she replied, pushing herself up on shaky arms. He touched the back of her head and paled when he saw bright red blood on his fingers. He knew from experience that it was likely not serious but, nonetheless, it was a disturbing sight.

  “Lizzy, lie still, you are hurt,” he said quietly.

  “I am?” she said, sounding a little dazed.

  “Yes, you have a cut on your head. Lie still,” he said gently. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and held it against the back of her head and was dismayed to see red blossom through a few moments later. He pulled open his cell phone and dialed with a shaking hand.

  “Bingley? Are you at the house? Elizabeth has fallen off the horse and I would like you to take a look at her.”

  “What’s the injury?” Bingley asked, medical training instantly taking over.

  “As far as I can tell, just a cut on the head but I’d like to be sure.”

  “We’re on our way back anyway, I’ll meet you there. I’ll call the house and have Mrs. R. get the first aid kit ready,” Bingley said. Darcy thanked him and hung up.

  Elizabeth was struggling to sit up again.

  “Lizzy! Lie still!” he said in a commanding voice. She promptly lay down again. She had been dazed but her head was clearing now to a very prominent pain. Darcy removed the handkerchief and folded it over, then replaced it on the back of her head.

  “I didn’t think anyone carried handkerchiefs anymore,” she commented. Darcy smiled.

  “I also wear clean underwear everywhere. My mother taught me well.”

  “It better not have any boogers on it,” she grumbled and he laughed.

  “I see you haven’t damaged the humor lobe of your brain,” he said.

  “Lucky for us we have two resident surgeons,” she said.

  “Now, be careful,” he said as he lifted her up to the horse again. He immediately swung up after her, and with one arm around her waist holding her securely to him, he cantered back to the house. He apologized when she said “OW!” and asked her if she still had feeling in her toes. When she said yes, he laughed and said she would be fine then.

  As they neared the house, he squeezed her tighter.

  “I’m so sorry, Lizzy. It was incredibly stupid of me to leave you on the horse. I wasn’t thinking at all. I won’t forgive myself until I know you are OK,” he said.

  “Neither will I,” she groused. He didn’t laugh. “I’m just kidding, it was just an accident. I probably did something to make him rear up like that,” she said, squeezing his arm.

  “No, he’s a high-spirited horse. I chose him today because I knew he could easily bear the weight of both of us but he can be troublesome with anyone but me. I was careless.” He sounded quiet chagrined.

  “You like a high-spirited horse, do you?” she said, smiling through her pain.

  “As, I am discovering, I like my women,” he said into her ear. “You, Elizabeth Bennet, are very high spirited.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you brained me or I might be positively wild.” He laughed and squeezed her again.

  As they approached the house, Mrs. Reynolds, Jane, and Bingley all rushed down the steps. A groom took the reins and Darcy swung down, then handed Elizabeth down. As soon as she touched the ground, he swept her up into his arms and carried her up the steps.

  “Elizabeth, are you all right?” Jane said, running beside him.

  “Yes, Jane, I’m fine,” she called as Darcy began up the steps to their room. To Darcy she said, “This is terribly romantic of you, you know.”

  “Yes, well, my plan was to just club you over the head and drag you to my room but the horse conveniently did my deed for me.” Elizabeth laughed and winced with pain.

  Darcy laid her gently on the bed while Bingley, Jane, and Mrs. Reynolds filed in the room behind him. Darcy kept the handkerchief pressed to her head, which was still bleeding, while Jane performed a quick examination by checking her pupils, her ability to name everyone in the room, her ability to count her fingers, and her reflexes.

  “Will you be checking my head at some point?” Elizabeth asked crossly.

  “Just making sure there’s no neurological damage. Now, let’s take a look at that cut,” Jane said, smiling reassuringly. “Lots of dirt and leaves here. Goodness, how long were you rolling around on the ground? Let’s clean that up,” she said as she turned and asked Mrs. Reynolds for a bowl of warm water and a washcloth. Elizabeth looked at Darcy with an arched eyebrow and he looked away, the corners of his mouth twitching.

  Bingley took a look at the cut, parting Elizabeth’s hair and blotting the blood away.

  “What do you think, seven stitches or so?” he said to Jane. She nodded and Bingley set about lopping off a lock of Elizabeth’s hair around the cut, preparing it for cleansing and stitching. Darcy looked on, somewhat green when he saw the gash on the back of her head.

  “W
hat are you doing, making a wig?!” Elizabeth exclaimed as she saw the lock of hair drop to the floor. Darcy stooped and picked it up, curling it around his finger absently.

  “I hope you can wear a hat in court, this is going to look dreadful,” Bingley said, winking at Darcy as he used a razor to scrape the remaining hair from the area.

  “Impossible. It’s sanction able. And I will,” teased Darcy.

  “Not to mention the horrible hat head you’re going to have for a week or so,” Bingley put in. Elizabeth made a sound of dismay.

  “Lizzy, it will be covered by the rest of your hair. If you pull your hair back, and you always do, you won’t even be able to see it,” Jane said reassuringly.

  Jane handed Bingley a bottle of betadine and some cotton, then set about threading her needle.

  “Oh, stop being such a baby!” Jane exclaimed in response to Elizabeth’s exaggerated intake of breath when Bingley swabbed the area with betadine.

  “It stings!” Elizabeth pouted. Jane rolled her eyes and shook her head. She then deftly sutured the wound with several stitches, assisted by Bingley.

  “Come over to the hospital in a week and I’ll take them out,” Jane said as she finished up. Bingley handed her a bottle of liquid bandage and Jane applied it over the wound, pressing perhaps a little harder than necessary and laughing silently at Elizabeth’s squeal.

  “She looks a little pale and shaky,” Darcy said. “Should we take her to the hospital?”

  Both Jane and Binglely shook their heads.

  “She’s fine, although I suspect she’s in for a headache for the rest of the night and probably some sore muscles,” Bingley said. “She should probably have a little something to eat and a warm soak, then go to sleep.”

  “Yes, I’d like to get a warm bath and wash the blood and dirt out of my hair.”

  “Would you like me to stay?” Jane asked, stroking Elizabeth’s forehead. She looked at Jane and smiled, then looked at Darcy.

  “No, I am in good hands already.” Jane looked at Darcy, whose expression toward Elizabeth was undisguised love.

  “I’ll start a bath for you now,” he said.

  Darcy began the tap and Jane and Bingley took their leave. Darcy asked Mrs. Reynolds to bring Elizabeth some dinner in about an hour.

  He helped her undress and helped her step into the bath. For once, on seeing her naked, he was not aroused; his sole purpose was to take care of her. He lathered the washcloth and washed her legs in long, tender strokes, massaging her muscles as he did. He held her arm up and ran the washcloth along it while twining his fingers through hers. He leaned her forward and soothingly washed her back. He tilted her head back and gently rinsed the dirt and leaves from her hair, then poured shampoo into his hands and worked it through her hair. He rinsed her hair carefully. He pulled out his own terry robe and wrapped it around her as she stepped from the bath with his help. He carried her to the bed and shushed her when she laughed a protest. When Mrs. Reynolds knocked with dinner, he was carefully brushing out her wet hair.

  “Here you go, sweetie,” Mrs. Reynolds said as she set the tray on the bed. “I thought you might not want anything too heavy and Jane suggested soup and a grilled cheese. I hope that’s OK?”

  “That’s perfect. It’s what my mom always made for me when I was sick. Thank you.”

  “Fitzwilliam, just give a shout if you need anything else. There should be enough there for both of you,” she said kindly. Darcy thanked her warmly and then she left.

  Darcy sat on a footstool by the bed, head resting on his folded arms on the mattress.

  “How do you feel?” he asked after she had eaten some of her grilled cheese.

  “I have a headache but, otherwise, I feel fine.”

  “I feel terrible, I feel responsible.”

  “Sweetheart, please, it was just an accident. Don’t get all worked up,” she said gently. Both were aware it was the first time either of them had used such an endearment. He caught her hand and kissed her palm.

  “It could have been much worse.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “You’re very lucky.”

  She stroked her thumb across his cheek. “Yes, I am.”

  Chapter 14

  June 12-Wednesday

  Elizabeth woke sore and stiff the next morning but again safely within the circle of Darcy’s arms. She did not wake him when she woke but listened to the sound of his breathing, deep and steady, next to her. She looked at the clock; it was nine in the morning. She rarely slept in so late nor did Darcy. She picked up his cell phone from the nightstand and examined it. She wondered whose numbers he had programmed in. She opened it; he had not personalized the screen with any screen saver. On impulse, she snuggled down next to him, held the phone out, smiled, and took a picture of them. She dared not set it as his screensaver but hoped he would look at it and laugh before he erased it.

  She replaced the phone on the nightstand and picked up his watch. It was heavy, made of brushed nickel perhaps, a masculine, sophisticated watch. Its main face was currently set on California time, and a smaller face set on England time. A third dial seemed to be a stopwatch but she couldn’t figure out how to work it. She put the watch on her arm and fastened the clasp; even fastened, it still slipped off her hand easily. She turned it over and saw “Happy Birthday, From Georgie,” engraved on the back. She has excellent taste in watches, Elizabeth thought.

  The watch was returned to the nightstand and his wallet was the next item to be examined. It was brown leather, well-worn, and European in style, meaning it folded in half rather than in thirds. She examined the outside for any initials or signs of it being a gift. She opened it and looked at his driver’s license. Lord, even the DMV couldn’t ruin this guy’s good looks, she thought.

  “What are you doing?” he asked next to her.

  “I’m stealing your money and credit cards,” she replied, continuing to look through his wallet. There was a condom neatly tucked into the pocket, ancient by the looks of it. She pulled out his business card and examined it and replaced it. He watched her, amused. She rifled through his other business cards; one from Bingley, one from some attorney, one from a dry cleaners.

  “You don’t keep any photos in your wallet,” she commented.

  “No, I guess I don’t.”

  She closed his wallet and put it back on the nightstand.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, reluctant to move from his current, very comfortable, position.

  “A bit stiff and sore but nothing that will last more than a day or so. My head feels fine except for right around the cut. That’s a little tender,” she said, touching the back of her head.

  “I have to say, the fall looked really frightful. If I were you, I’d insist on staying in bed all day today,” he said. She grinned.

  “That sounds like a fine idea. Do you thing Mrs. R. would bring breakfast up to us? I’m thinking two eggs, over medium, with some toast and bacon. Yes, lots of bacon, please,” she said to him. He smiled at her and sighed. He would have to resign his very comfortable position after all.

  He put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and went downstairs. He came upstairs about half an hour later with a tray of food for both of them.

  “Bingley and Jane both wish to check on their patient,” he said. She nodded and Darcy opened the door for them. Jane strode in and immediately sat next to Elizabeth on the bed. She looked over her, checked her pupils, and examined the stitches. Bingley watched with approval. Medical examination complete, Jane then smiled and said,

  “Lizzy, hon, how do you feel?”

  “Not too bad but I’d like to take it easy today and rest.”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Bingley said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a splitting headache all day.”

  “What the hell is wrong with your bedside manner? You’re the pediatric surgeon?” Elizabeth said with one eyebrow raised at Bingley.

  “You criticize me when your treating doctor
is an urologist?” he retorted.

  Elizabeth looked at Jane, who smiled sweetly at her. “Feel free to make any kind of dick joke that you want to,” Jane grinned. Elizabeth laughed.

  “OK, visiting hours are over, get out,” Darcy said, opening the door.

  “Feel better, sweetie,” Bingley said and kissed her cheek. “Let us know if you need anything.” Jane and Bingley shuffled out and left them alone for the rest of the day.

  ***

  Darcy and Elizabeth spent the day in quiet conversation, each talking about their families. He learned that as a child she wanted to be a ballerina; he wanted to be a fireman. She showed him the scar on her chin from stitches after her hula accident gone bad at age four; he had broken the same arm twice in grade school, both times a result of falling out of the same tree. He asked about her mother.

  “My mother is insane,” she replied. “If she knew we were involved, she’d have us registered at Macy’s before you could count to three,” she laughed. Darcy didn’t find that a particularly bad idea but he did not say so. Elizabeth continued: “She’s got a very determined idea that all her daughters should marry well and retire to have children, which should then also be married well. You should hear her go on about Bingley. ‘Oh Jane, a surgeon! You’ll have such a big house!’ Never mind that Jane is also a surgeon. And don’t get me started on how she tried to marry me off to my own cousin before she found out he was addicted to prostitutes. I believe you know Mr. Collins?”

  She asked him about his family and he told her about his mother. “My mother was a wonderful person, very warm and funny. I think sometimes you remind me of her. I was lucky to get to spend sixteen years with her; she died when Georgiana was only five. She was a musician and she and I used to play together a lot before she got sick. It all happened very quickly, you know. She was diagnosed in June with breast cancer, and was gone by August. I became very serious for a while until I went off to college and met Bingley. I found him funny, easy to be with, and he drew me out of my shell a good deal. He’s my closest friend, he’s like a brother to me.”

  He asked her about growing up with four sisters. “Five girls in two bedrooms and one bathroom between us!” she laughed. “It’s a wonder I survived. Let’s see, Lydia is the youngest, she is 24 now. She runs an escort service, believe it or not. At least she’s not a stripper. Katherine - Kitty - is the next, she is 25. She went to LA to begin an acting career and is a very successful waitress. Then there is Mary, who is 26 and working on her Master’s degree in Russian Literature with an emphasis on the romances. And you know Jane.”