Chapter 10
Her upper body felt like it was trapped in an iron cage, and it was a struggle to open her eyes. She gasped for air. Through the sound of the rain and wind she could still hear the horses’ pitiful neighing.
A slight movement and a deep moan recalled her to her current predicament, and she finally opened her eyes.
“Jane, can you hear me? Jane? Jane!”
“Lizzy…” The weak reply was a relief.
The carriage was tilted precariously to the left, where Jane had been sitting.
However the slight movement indicated that, although the wheel must be broken, it was still attached to the horses, who were clearly restless.
The danger of them being frightened again and attempting to bolt, pulling the carriage with them, was immediate and life-threatening.
Elizabeth fought with the momentary panic, forcing herself to seek a solution.
She tried to move from where she had fallen atop her sister but was overcome with pain.
Cautiously, she moved her hands, then her legs, tentatively at first, then with more determination.
She knew from her uncle that if a wound was bleeding or a bone was broken, any movement could cause fatal damage.
The pain seemed to be coming from everywhere, but it did not sharpen at any precise point, so she guessed she had not suffered a serious injury.
She pushed away the broken pieces of wood around her and finally freed herself, but still she did not dare to move. The carriage was in such a precarious state that it could collapse entirely at any moment, trapping Jane beneath the wreckage.
“Jane, can you move, dearest? Oh Lord! Felton! Felton, where are you? Are you hurt?”
“I am here, Miss Lizzy,” the driver called. “Don’t shout — you could scare the horses. I’ll try to release them. Stay still a moment.”
“Can I help?”
“No, just stay still, Miss Lizzy.”
She did so, only reaching for Jane’s hand. Her sister had a small cut on her temple, and there was debris covering her legs.
“Are you hurt, Jane?” she whispered.
“My legs feel like they are on fire. I can hardly move them. And you, Lizzy?”
“Do not worry about me. I shall make sure we get you out, Jane.”
Both of them cried out in panic as the carriage shook violently.
“The horses are free, Miss Lizzy,” the coachman called. “They will return home, I hope.”
“Good. Can you help me pull Jane out?”
“No, miss, I am sorry. I can’t move much myself.”
“If you are hurt, you must be still! I shall come and help you. Just a moment.”
Carefully, Elizabeth manoeuvred herself into a more upright position where she was able to lower the window on her side of the carriage and reach out to open the door. Immediately, the rain hit her, obscuring her vision, and the wind almost threw her to the ground.
Hauling herself from the lopsided vehicle, she stepped cautiously around the back until she reached the door against which Jane was lying and attempted to pull it open — to no avail.
Turning, she saw Felton. He was collapsed in the grass, breathing heavily, his face etched with pain.
It must have cost him the last of his strength to free the horses.
Elizabeth gently touched his chest, and he moaned. When she pressed lightly on his legs, the moan deepened.
“I am sorry, miss. It hurts there.”
“Felton, listen to me. Do not move a single inch. I shall put my coat under your head. Try to stay still. I know it is hard, but I shall fetch help!”
“Miss, let me be. Go and help Miss Jane.”
“Promise me!” she almost shouted, then returned to Jane and wrestled with the door again, only to face another failure. Being stuck inside the carriage must be awful, but at least Jane was protected from the rain and wind.
“Dearest, I cannot reach you. Tell me where it hurts.”
“I am not sure, Lizzy. My legs, I think.”
“Can you move them? Jane, please try to move your toes. Can you do it?”
“I can. I think I have lost my shoes.”
“Good. Now try and move a leg, but only an inch. Careful — one inch only. Can you move it?”
“I can.”
“Did it make the pain worse?”
“It is the same, I think.”
“Now the other leg. Still the same?”
“Yes…”
“Now, dearest, are you able to reach the window? Can you lower it?”
“I believe so.”
The window lowered, and Jane’s hand emerged. Elizabeth took it in her own.
“Now squeeze my hand with yours. Can you do it?”
“I can,” Jane replied and proved it with a strong grasp.
“Good. All is good,” Elizabeth whispered, fighting her tears. “Dearest, I shall leave you here with Felton for a little while. I shall run to Netherfield — it is very close. I shall be there in a few minutes and fetch help.”
“Do as you wish, Lizzy, just be careful,” Jane said, squeezing her hand again.
With a last glance, Elizabeth broke into a run, battling against the storm.
Netherfield was in view, but despite her efforts, it was slow progress.
Her feet hardly listened to her, her clothes — heavy from water and dirt — were a burden that held her back, and even breathing became an arduous endeavour.
In front of Netherfield House, she lost her balance and almost fell. With a last effort, she climbed the steps and knocked frantically on the door with her fist until a servant appeared, staring at her in shock.
“Yes?”
“I am Elizabeth Bennet. My sister and I were on our way to visit Miss Bingley…but we had an accident, and our carriage is wrecked. My sister is hurt, and we need immediate help,” she burst out breathlessly.
The servant looked at her, dumbfounded. “The master is not home. I shall inform Miss Bingley.”
“Did you not hear me?” Elizabeth shouted. “I need men to come with me immediately!”
“Miss, I cannot …” the servant mumbled.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet? What on earth? What happened to you?” a harsh, reproachful voice interjected.
“Miss Bingley! We had an accident on our way here. Jane is trapped inside the carriage, and our driver, Felton, is badly hurt. We need immediate help — a few strong men. And blankets. We shall need blankets to carry them…” she said, her words as disordered as her breathing.
“Oh…how unfortunate. Gordon, go and find some men to help Miss Bennet,” Miss Bingley finally instructed the servant with a calmness that enraged Elizabeth.
“Can we please hurry? They are out in this storm!” she cried impatiently, but the lady merely frowned at her in disgust.
“I am sure Gordon will return soon,” she replied haughtily.
“Miss Elizabeth? Dear Lord, what happened to you?” a male voice cried, startling her. She turned to see Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy, soaking wet from their ride, hurrying towards her.
On the verge of tears, Elizabeth repeated, “We had an accident…and the carriage nearly overturned. Jane is trapped. She is hurt. And so is our coachman,” she whispered.
“I have already sent Gordon to find men to help. He will return soon,” Miss Bingley explained with cold serenity.
“Where is she? Where is the carriage?” Mr Bingley demanded, hopping from foot to foot.
“In that direction,” Elizabeth said, pointing. “I shall show you.”
“Let us go now,” Mr Darcy said, then he turned and shouted to the stableboy to bring back their horses.
“Caroline, send Gordon and the men with a carriage. They will find us,” Mr Bingley said, hurrying after his friend.
“But Charles, where are you going? You have only just returned! You will catch a cold! Come back!” Miss Bingley cried, but no one paid her any mind.
“Miss Bennet, can you ride?” Mr Darcy asked, grabbing his horse’s reins.
“No… They need help… Felton is out in the rain. I think his leg is broken…”
“Walking will take too long,” Mr Darcy said. “You can either wait for Gordon with the carriage or ride with one of us.”
She was so stunned that she could not decide how to reply. “I cannot…” she whispered.
“Explain to me where they are,” Mr Darcy insisted.
“Straight ahead, on the road from Longbourn…you cannot possibly miss them.”
“Come, Bingley, we have not a moment to lose,” Mr Darcy said, jumping into the saddle. “Miss Bennet, follow us in the carriage. It should be ready soon. Do you have a doctor in Meryton? Send a servant to fetch him immediately.”
“We have an apothecary… Mr Darcy, please be careful. If they are hurt, they should not be moved. We need blankets to carry them in…”
“We shall be careful, I promise,” he answered solemnly, then turned his horse and departed at a gallop, Mr Bingley by his side.
Left alone on the steps of Netherfield, wet and shivering from cold, fear, and panic, Elizabeth froze for a few moments.
What was she to do? She should have gone with them, but riding with a gentleman was unthinkable, and she would only slow them down.
But how could she just stay at the house when her sister might die?
“Miss? Miss?”
She barely heard the call until the servant lightly touched her arm.
“Miss, what did the master say?”
As if shaken from her stillness, Elizabeth’s body as well as her mind found the strength to act.
“Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley have already departed. We are to follow them in the carriage. In fact, I think we shall need two carriages. Can you order another one?”
“Of course, miss. I am certain the master will not mind.”
“We also need blankets. Do you have some? And someone must go and fetch Mr Jones, the apothecary, this very instant. Now let us go!” She spoke in ragged breaths, hurrying to the carriage.
In a perturbed state of mind, she felt the servants were moving too slowly, and the carriage did not leave quickly enough. She looked out, trying to estimate the distance, fearing the state in which she might find her sister and Longbourn’s loyal servant.
When the carriage stopped and the door was opened, only minutes later, she jumped out and ran ahead.
She found Felton still lying on the ground, covered with Mr Darcy’s coat. The door on Jane’s side had been ripped off, and the debris that had covered her legs had been removed. Mr Bingley was kneeling next to her, while Mr Darcy paced about.
The rain had slowed, and the wind had eased, while a little bit of blue was now visible in the sky.
“Miss Elizabeth, tell us what to do,” Mr Darcy requested, while the servants were all standing in the rain, waiting.
“Oh…I…I am not sure… Felton’s injuries are worse than Jane’s, I think.
We should put a blanket down next to him, then roll him gently onto it.
Very gently. And then we must try to put him in the carriage…
on the blanket… He must be carefully carried.
Could we take him to Netherfield? It is much closer than Longbourn… ”
Her voice sounded so incoherent even to herself that she wondered how the others could understand her.
“Of course. We shall take all three of you to Netherfield. Very well, we shall do as you say,” Mr Darcy responded, then he turned to instruct the servants.
Having used up all her strength, Elizabeth stood still, watching Mr Darcy take charge of the task, guiding the men calmly, decidedly, until Felton was placed inside the carriage.
Then Mr Darcy returned to her; he was soaking wet, his coat given to Felton, his hat lost somewhere.
“How should we carry Miss Bennet?” he asked her.
“Oh, my sister… I do not think she has broken any bones…but I must be certain,” she replied, her lips hardly moving. She returned and knelt next to Jane, and Mr Bingley took a step away.
“Lizzy, dearest, how are you?” Jane asked, touching her face.
“I am well. How are you, Jane? Let me see. I shall gently press along your body, and you must tell me if it hurts.”
“I can move my legs, Lizzy. I know you feared they were broken, but they are not. They hurt, but I can move them. Look. And my arms too. My head hurts a little…and my shoulders…”
Jane tried to smile as she reassured Elizabeth; the two gentlemen watched from a few steps away.
“I think Jane is right. From my little knowledge, it seems she has not sustained any dangerous injuries. But I think it best not to let her walk. We should carry her in a blanket too…”
“Could I…may I carry her?” Mr Bingley enquired timidly. “If Miss Bennet agrees, of course…”
“I believe you could, sir. Thank you,” Elizabeth approved after a glance at her sister.
Clumsy, tentative, hesitant, Mr Bingley lifted Jane in his arms and began to walk slowly towards the carriage, while she closed her own arms around his neck.
Elizabeth and Mr Darcy remained behind everyone else, standing still, only inches away from each other.
“Miss Elizabeth, you should accompany your sister in the carriage. You look very ill. You must be freezing. Allow me to help you,” he said, taking her arm. Then he suddenly stopped.
“You are bleeding!” he cried.
“Me? Where?” she asked.
“There is blood on your dress. I believe it must be coming from your right leg.”
She looked down; there were a few spots of red, now almost washed away by the rain.
“Oh, I am sure it is nothing,” she said, lifting the hem of her gown a little. Underneath it, her petticoat was stained with brighter red blotches. She frowned at the sight, and only then did she acknowledge the sharp pain that she had previously disregarded.
Without even considering her gesture, she lifted her dress and petticoat to reveal a nasty cut above her knee.
“It is nothing. It will heal easily,” she said. “I shall bandage it with something to stop the bleeding.”
“May I help you?” Mr Darcy enquired with apparent concern, and she held her breath, while her heart began to race.
“I think this might do,” he said, removing his neckcloth.
“May I?” he insisted, and Elizabeth, stunned, only nodded.
He crouched down and attempted to tie the white fabric around her leg.
His fingers were unskilled and hesitant, but he finally succeeded.
He stood up and looked at her with a strange expression.
“I imagine I have done a poor job, but I pray it will help for now.”
“I am sure it will. Thank you,” Elizabeth whispered.
Then she took his offered arm, and they walked together towards the waiting carriage.
She entered and sat next to Jane, taking her hand as they set off towards Netherfield, escorted by the two gentlemen at whom neither nervous and flushed sister dared to look.