A Happy Accident

by Amelia Wood

  “Very well. Thank you, Michael.”

  The footman bowed and left. Darcy dipped his handkerchief in the bowl of water beside him and gently dabbed at Elizabeth’s forehead. The skin was cut and grazed there.

  “You heard what he said, my love,” he said. “You must wake up. Please, darling. Come back. Use that spirit to come back to us.”

  Darcy continued to speak to her as he cleaned her wounds as best he could. He banked the fire until it roared and heated the room. But still Elizabeth felt cool. Mrs Reynolds came and went to offer her assistance and to offer to stay with her while Darcy ate and rested but he would hear none of it. Finally, she left when Darcy promised to call her at once if he needed anything.

  Darcy sat beside Elizabeth, holding her hand against his lips. Elizabeth continued to sleep on like the princess from the fairy tale his nurse had read him when he was a child. His other hand stroked her forehead. The room was so hot, it was making him drowsy. His head nodded forward and his eyes closed but he pulled himself awake with a jerk. But the sleep and shock of the day’s events claimed him with a determination he could not fight. Without realising it, Darcy rested his head on the bed and was pulled into sleep.

  4

  The first thing Elizabeth was aware of was a dreadful pain in her head. She had sometimes awoken with headaches but never one like this. She must have slept badly. Or perhaps she had slept in an odd position because everything seemed to hurt all over. She frowned even without opening her eyes. She would have to ask Mama for some of her headache powders. She would not be able to tolerate the noise and clamour of her younger sisters until she was recovered.

  The room was incredibly hot. Had Hill come to light the fire during the night? Why on earth would she do something so strange? Elizabeth was aware of someone warm and heavy sleeping beside her. Jane must have fallen asleep in her room again. She did that sometimes when she and Elizabeth talked late into the night. But Elizabeth could not recall any conversation between them before sleeping. How odd.

  Elizabeth shifted and opened her eyes. The dancing firelight picked out the gold thread on a canopy over her head. Elizabeth stared at it in confusion. She did not have such a canopy over her bed. Perhaps her eyes were still heavy with sleep and saw a light that did not exist. She shifted in the bed, wincing as a pain gripped her, feeling as though her head was clamped in a vice. She struggled to sit up, gritting her teeth as she felt her body ached all over. She shifted her head from side to side, feeling the ache in her neck. Her arms and legs felt bruised. Had she fallen while climbing Mount Oakham? No, surely she would have remembered such an event.

  Elizabeth shifted the bolster behind her to allow her to sit up. Then she glanced around the room and frowned. Her head felt foggy and confused but she was absolutely sure she had never been in such a room in all her life. She looked around at the magnificent furnishings and the rich, Chinese wallpaper in bewilderment. Was she dreaming? Where on earth was this place? Her attention was once again drawn back to the warm weight beside her and she glanced down. A dark, curly head lay on the bed beside her. The rest of the person was seated in a chair that was placed beside her bed. The person had leaned forward and had fallen asleep with their head on their arms. It was clearly a man.

  Elizabeth felt a dart of fear at that realisation. She was in a strange place with a strange man asleep beside her. Her body ached all over and her head pounded with such brutality that she might have considered a guillotine to be a mercy. Her mind was dazed and confused and she could not place the pieces together to discover why she was there. Surely she was dreaming? What was the last thing she could recall? She struggled as she tried to remember. She recalled waving to her parents and her sisters as she moved further away from Longbourn. But nothing else. Where was she going and where was she now? Perhaps this was a dream, after all?

  Careful not to wake the man just in case he was not a dream, Elizabeth gingerly climbed out of the other side of the bed. She looked down at an unfamiliar nightgown and wrapped her arms around herself in alarm. She could see no wrap she might use to cover herself. A wave of dizziness swept over her and she gripped the bed post to steady herself. She leaned there with her eyes closed, taking deep breaths, as she waited for the dizziness to pass. She opened her eyes but the room span before her. She squeezed them shut again but it did not help. She glanced towards the door. It appeared to be the one, solid thing in the room. Elizabeth started towards it, stopping to steady herself against the wall when the nausea threatened her.

  Elizabeth grasped the handle and pulled the door open. She staggered out to the hall outside. She looked in confusion at the unfamiliar thick carpets and rich oil paintings displaying strange faces. A few candles still flickered but the hall was mostly dark. A dark oak banister ran along the edge of the hall. Elizabeth gripped it and used it to pull herself along. She was not quite sure where she was going but surely she would see something that would make sense of all that was happening.

  Her head had never felt so heavy. Elizabeth paused to lean on the banister and press a hand to her forehead as though she could force the pain out that way. She felt drowsy and had an overwhelming urge to lie down on the thick carpet and sleep. But she could not. She must press on if she were to find out what had happened to her. And she would do so at any moment. Just as soon as she rested her eyes…

  The floor swayed before her.

  “Elizabeth!”someone called. Elizabeth raised her heavy head to see the fuzzy outline of a tall, well-built man. She had the impression of a handsome face looking pale with worry as it hurried towards her. An impression of familiarity tugged at her before she felt her hand slip and the floor rush up to meet her. A pair of arms grasped her and she was pulled against a warm chest. Elizabeth found she did not have it in her to be frightened. She lay her head against the neck of the man who held her and closed her eyes as a feeling of peace and security washed over her and allowed sleep to claim her once again.

  Darcy was sure he deserved any bad thing one could wish upon him. How could he have been so stupid as to fall asleep when he was supposed to care for Elizabeth? If he had not awoken when he did, she might have fallen down the stairs and he would have lost her for sure.

  Did she know him when she saw him? He could not be sure. Her expression was too confused. Darcy took the chair beside her again and held her hand. Though he still feared for her, she had woken up and was well enough to move a little. Surely that was something, was it not? A burst of pride went through him. Surely only his Elizabeth would be strong enough to walk after such an accident. Had there ever been a woman like her? Darcy could not imagine it.

  But he could not take the chance of her trying to walk during the night again. He could not risk falling asleep. Darcy went to the basin of water Mrs Reynolds had supplied earlier and splashed his face with it. The cold made him feel slightly more alert. His watch told him it was still two hours before dawn. He could last that much longer, surely.

  Darcy took his seat beside Elizabeth again and stroked her hair. She moved uneasily beneath his hand. Her eyes opened again and fixed on his face with a puzzled frown.

  “Darcy?” she murmured. He could hear the confusion in her voice. Darcy made to answer her though his heart was so full he almost lost his voice. But then her eyes closed again and with a sigh, she drifted to sleep.

  She knew him. Even in her confusion she recognised him. Did that mean her head was not too badly injured? It must be so. She would sleep now, but she would wake in the morning and she would have the comfort of knowing she was not among strangers.

  Unless that was even less comfort for her. Darcy felt something unpleasant twist in his chest. He recalled the look of horror on her face when she saw him on his horse. She had been aghast to see him. So eager to escape him that she did not even take care of where she was going. The sight of him had been so displeasing to her that she had almost been killed trying to escape him.

  What would she think when she opened her eyes and saw h
im there and realised where he was?

  Try as he might, Darcy could never forget her words to him when she had flung his proposal back in his face. He was the last man in the world she could ever be prevailed upon to marry. She did not need to feel any concern for refusing him as she might have done if he had behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner. She despised him and had never cared for him all the while he loved her. It was a thought that had cost him many sleepless nights since that evening in Kent. He did not even know if the letter he had given her to defend himself against some of the charges she had placed at his door had softened her attitude towards him. She might not even have read it. Perhaps she threw it away in disgust. Or she might have read it but dismissed it as nothing more than lies from the last man in the world she could ever marry. Would he ever forget her saying that?

  Darcy looked down at Elizabeth’s sleeping form but he could not bring himself to touch her this time. Not when she thought so little of him. No. He would remain by her side until dawn and he would leave before she woke up. Mrs Reynolds would sit with her then. And when Elizabeth understood where she was and who she was with, he would reintroduce himself but he would remain distant and aloof so as not to cause her any concern.

  Still, Darcy’s thoughts were troubled and the fear of meeting her disgust and approbation kept him awake more successfully than any amount of cold water.

  5

  The pain still ached in Elizabeth’s head as she opened her eyes. She had the strangest dream the night before. She imagined she was in a large, beautiful house, trying to escape something, but she did not know what. Or perhaps she was trying to get somewhere. Elizabeth could not be sure. In her dreams, Darcy had been there. He had gathered her in his arms and carried her to bed. His face had been beside her, filled with concern for her as his hand stroked her face. She had dreamt he spoke words to her, beautiful words, filled with love for her. What on earth had made her dream of Mr Darcy, of all people? He belonged to the past now and she would never see him again.

  Elizabeth shifted and winced as she felt her body ache all over.

  “Lie back, miss, and be easy,” said a soft, female voice in a midlands accent. The voice was maternal but unfamiliar. Elizabeth squinted against the bright sunshine streaming in the window as she turned in the direction of the voice. An older woman sat beside her. Elizabeth tried to sit up in alarm but the woman placed a gentle hand on her to restrain her.

  “Do not move too fast. I wager you have a nasty headache right now, do you not? That is to be expected when one takes the sort of blow you did. But you have nothing to worry about. You are safe now.”

  “Where am I?” asked Elizabeth. She pushed the woman’s hand away and tried to sit up. She looked around the beautiful but strange room in agitation. “What has happened to me? Who are you?”

  “I will explain all in a moment, but you must be calm, miss. Lie down. Your head will only ache all the more if you are not calm.”

  “Who are you?” Elizabeth demanded. She pulled away from the woman, her aching body feeling sharp and defensive.

  “Miss, please…” The woman raised her hands but dropped them and hurried towards the door. She exchanged a few words with whoever was outside. Elizabeth braced herself for whatever was about to happen as a man entered the room. She was about to say something again when the words caught in her throat.

  “Mr Darcy,” she said. Her hands dropped to her side as she stared at the face she thought never to see again.

  “Miss Bennet.” Darcy bowed. His hands were clasped behind his back and he looked aloof and grave. “I trust you are well?”

  “I do not understand.” Elizabeth shook her head but stopped as the pain reminded her it was there. “What has happened? How am I here? Where am I?”

  “All questions I can answer in due course. But first, I must ask that you return to bed.” Darcy’s eyes dropped for a moment and then looked away with politeness.

  Elizabeth followed his glanced and gasped when she saw she wore only a nightgown. Mr Darcy had seen her undressed. How would she ever live down the embarrassment of it! She jumped back below the covers and pulled them to her chest, ignoring the throbbing pain in her head from the sudden movement.

  Once she was decent, Darcy turned to her again. “How do you feel?” he asked in that mild, courteous tone, as if they had met at a dinner where they were slight acquaintances.

  “Confused and my head aches terribly,” she replied. “But you can solve the first in a moment bu answering my questions.”

  Mrs Reynolds looked from one to the other.

  “I will bring powders for the young lady,” she said. Darcy looked as though he wished to stop her but he nodded. He stood awkwardly in the centre of the room as Mrs Reynolds made a point of leaving the door wide open. Elizabeth turned to Darcy. Before she could repeat her questions, he cleared his throat.

  “I met with you yesterday evening as I was travelling home to Pemberley. That is where you are, by the way. We were both on a lane that runs along the edge of a cliff. I am afraid you were startled when we came upon one another and in your confusion, you stepped back and fell. You hit your head which explains your aching and bruises.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes were round with shock. “How can I be here if I fell over a cliff?”

  “You did not fall all the way. Fortunately, there was a smaller ledge not too far down and that is where you landed.”

  Elizabeth nodded as she took it in. “And you brought me to Pemberley? How did I get from the cliff to here? It must have been a difficult taks to organise men to come to rescue me.”

  Darcy cleared his throat. “I did not have time to organise men. I did not think of it. I thought you were…” His voice trailed away and he glanced towards the window. He took a moment before continuing. “I did not know if I had much time,” he said when his voice was stronger. “I climbed down and saw you were alive.”

  “And you carried me to the top?”

  “I did.”

  “That must have been difficult.”

  Darcy smiled. “I have completed easier tasks. But I brought you to the top and then brought you here to Pemberley to recover. You woke up several times but you were dizzy and you fell back asleep at once.”

  Elizabeth blinked then glanced down at the bedspread. “Did I try to leave the room during the night?”

  “You did. I did not mean to fall asleep but I am afraid it overcame me. I awoke to see you were gone. I followed you from the room. You made it as far as the bannister but you almost fell.”

  “And you caught me. And brought me back here.” Elizabeth raised her eyes to look at him.

  Darcy bowed.

  “Who else was here with us last night?” Elizabeth tried to keep her voice light as she asked the pertinent question.

  Darcy hesitated. He cleared his throat again.

  “No one for the most part. Mrs Reynolds came in and out. But do not concern yourself. No one will know we were alone last night. I understand how important that is to you.”

  Elizabeth thought she detected a faint note of bitterness in his voice at that. For her part, she was too surprised at the idea that the staid Mr Darcy would put himself in such a compromising situation. But perhaps it was not so surprising considering he had wished to marry her. Would he deliberately put her in a situation where she was forced to marry him whether she liked it or not?

  No, she could not imagine him being so deceitful. Elizabeth had credited Darcy with many flaws but sneakiness was not one of them. That trait seemed reserved for the man she had defended so fiercely even though he had turned out to be nothing but a cad.

  “You remember last night and leaving the room?” asked Darcy after the silence had lingered beyond the point of comfort.

  “I remember something but it seems like a dream. I think it will be hard to separate what is real and what is not for some time.”

  “Do you recall how you came to be in Derbyshire and so close to my home? I know of no reason why yo
u should be here.”

  Elizabeth leaned back against the pillow and frowned. Why was she there? She could recall waving goodbye to her family at Longbourn but was that before this trip or was she simply recalling one of countless times she must have bid her family farewell? Elizabeth massaged her temples as she fought to recall.

  “Do not trouble yourself if you cannot remember,” said Darcy quickly. “It might distress you. It is no trouble at all for me to send word to the town to find out who you might have traveled with. It is not a large place and there are not many places travellers stay. We will find your friends before many hours have passed.”

  Elizabeth nodded. She gave Darcy a quick smile. “Unless I travelled alone, of course.”

  To her surprise, Darcy gave a brief laugh, his eyes crinkling. “That would not surprise me in the slightest. You are perhaps the most independent lady of my acquaintance. But I doubt your mother would have agreed to it. No, I am sure you have someone here with you. We shall find them.”

  6

  Darcy turned as Mrs Reynolds came back with a glass of water and some powders she had already mixed for Elizabeth. Darcy stood looking uncomfortable as she drank it and Mrs Reynolds examined her wounds.

  “The master did a good job of cleaning them. I see nothing remaining in them,” she said almost to herself. Elizabeth’s eyes met Darcy’s and he glanced away. “Mr Mason sent word that he is on his way, sir,” she added. “He will be here within the hour.”

  Darcy nodded. “And Mr Stokes?”

  Mrs Reynolds sighed. “Passed away a few hours ago, poor man. His wife will be distraught.”