Chapter 11
Elizabeth lay in bed, the darkness lit only by a candle and the fire. It had begun to rain again, and although the room was warm and comfortable, she was still chilled even under the sheets and blankets.
She felt uncomfortable that Jane was in the next room.
She preferred to share a chamber so she could take care of her sister, but Mr Jones, the apothecary, had strongly objected.
He had proclaimed Elizabeth was also injured and needed rest. As much as she tried to argue, Elizabeth could not deny the dark bruises on her shoulders, her hands, her ribs, and the weight pressing upon her chest with every breath.
The cut on her leg was deep and still bleeding, despite Mr Jones’s herbal medicine and the tight bandage he had applied.
But more distressing than the pain was the recollection of Mr Darcy’s fingers on her skin as he attempted to dress her wound.
Mr Darcy had seen her bare legs, covered only in ripped stockings.
What had she been thinking to allow such a breach of propriety?
It was true that she had seen him in a partial state of undress when he was hurt — and when they had happened upon each other in the sea.
But the circumstances were utterly different, and she had every reason to be embarrassed by her imprudence.
She could still hear voices from around the house; since they had carried Jane and Felton inside, Netherfield’s tranquillity had been disturbed, much to Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst’s apparent disapproval.
At Mr Darcy’s suggestion, Felton, who had a badly broken leg, had not been placed in the servants’ wing but in a room on the same floor as Elizabeth and Jane.
The gentleman had argued that it would be easier for Mr Jones to look after all three patients if they were in close proximity to one another, rather than having to climb up and down the stairs.
He had also insisted that the apothecary stay at Netherfield, at least until it was certain none of the patients were in danger.
He was correct, of course, but what other man in his position would take such a detail into consideration?
What another man with such a situation in life would care so much about another man’s servant as to offer him the comfort of a guest room?
What a surprising gentleman Mr Darcy was! So restrained, seemingly arrogant — even cold — in manners, his countenance always severe, yet so attentive, so considerate!
While Mr Jones attended to Jane and Felton, Mr Darcy had quickly changed then driven to Longbourn to inform the family about the accident and fetch clothes for them all. Such attention was surely beyond a polite gesture.
Yes, he had reason to be thankful and kind to her and her family; his generosity towards her uncle was mostly due to his gratitude.
But his actions following the carriage accident, his care for every small detail involving Jane, as well as for the servant, his taking charge of a difficult situation that had clearly overwhelmed Mr Bingley, were all small yet significant details that revealed Mr Darcy’s true nature.
One that he, apparently, tried to conceal under an impenetrable mask.
She had seen him unguarded, his mask removed, a few times, and the impression it had made had been so strong that he had invaded her thoughts and remained there, causing her a continuous and disturbing anxiety and restlessness.
There was a gentle knock on the door, and a maid entered, carrying a tray.
“Mr Jones sent you this medicine, miss. He said you have to take it immediately.”
“I shall. Thank you, Sarah. Can you tell me, how is my sister?”
“Miss Bennet is well, Mr Jones said. Janey took her up some soup and tea. I think she is asleep now. Should I go and see?”
“No, I only left her room half an hour ago. There is no need to disturb her. And Felton?”
“Mr Jones is with him now. The master told Martin and Tom to stay with him.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said as Sarah placed the tray on the small table.
“Oh dear. Why is there so much food, Sarah?”
“It is your dinner, miss. The master asked me to bring you something from each dish so you can choose. Would you like to sit in a chair? Or should I bring the tray to the bed?”
“I shall sit at the table, thank you. But I could not possibly eat everything you brought me, even in a week,” she attempted to joke.
“As you wish, miss. I unpacked your luggage and put your clothes in the closet. The ones you wore today have been cleaned already.”
“Yes, I noticed Mama sent us enough dresses for a week, though I hope we shall return home tomorrow.”
The maid replied with a polite curtsey, then excused herself.
Alone again but with little appetite, Elizabeth pushed the tray aside and went to the window, watching the rivulets of rain running down the glass as she struggled with her feelings and concerns.
Her main concern was Felton, but she was not entirely easy about Jane either.
She remembered her uncle mentioning that in the case of such accidents, the consequences might not be observed immediately.
She had every reason to fear the worst could come.
Was Mr Jones able to treat severe injuries?
Perhaps they should find a more experienced and knowledgeable physician as soon as possible.
It was a subject she was determined to broach the following morning, regardless of the risk of offending the apothecary.
The best choice would be her uncle, of course, but he was so busy in London.
Would asking him to travel to Hertfordshire and neglect his patients in town be selfish?
It was an urgent matter she needed to discuss with her father.
All those distressing thoughts did little to improve her appetite and instead increased her nervousness.
She felt a sudden wave of warmth, and a glance in the mirror revealed her cheeks were flushed.
She hoped she had not caught a cold. Another patient was the last thing Mr Jones needed.
As much as she loathed the notion, it was not impossible, though.
She had spent a lot of time running back and forth in the cold rain, and it would be a miracle if she escaped without consequences.
Jane and Felton faced the same danger, and due to their already weakened states, it could be even more serious for them.
Elizabeth quickly donned her robe, leaving the chamber in search of Mr Jones.
She first gently opened Jane’s door — her sister was sleeping, with Janey, the maid, watching her.
She then knocked gently at the door of the little sitting room that had been offered to the apothecary, and at his invitation, she entered.
Once she stepped inside, she froze, her eyes landing on Mr Darcy’s unexpected presence.
He was as impeccably dressed as ever, making Elizabeth aware of her own improper appearance.
“I am sorry to disturb you,” she mumbled, lowering her eyes.
“Miss Elizabeth, is anything wrong?” Mr Jones enquired with apparent concern.
“No… Yes… I am not certain…”
“Should I leave to allow you to speak privately?” Mr Darcy asked.
“No…that will not be necessary…” Elizabeth replied.
“In fact, it is a matter that might affect you too. Mr Jones, I was wondering… I feel a little feverish, and I fear all of us who were out of doors so long might have caught a cold. Especially Felton and Jane… And Mr Darcy since he gave Felton his coat. Do you have any remedies for a cold, just in case? Should we not take something to lessen the chance of it worsening?”
“Oh…yes, you are right. I should have thought of that myself, but I was…” the apothecary replied, obviously confused. “I do, of course…I have some with me and more at home. I shall fetch more tomorrow.”
“Do not worry, sir. I shall ask a maid to prepare herbal teas for all of us. Including Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley.”
“You are very kind, Miss Elizabeth, but I am sure that will not be necessary. I mean — for me and Bingley. Let us not waste medicine on us and save it for those who really need it.”
“I shall go to the kitchens and instruct them how to prepare the tea,” Mr Jones said hastily. “Please excuse me. I shall return soon,” he said, then took a package from his bag and quit the room, leaving Elizabeth and Mr Darcy facing each other in an awkward silence.
“Mr Darcy, I must thank you for all your help today…and for taking the trouble to inform my parents in person…”
“There is no need to thank me. Your parents were awfully frightened, which is to be expected. They will come tomorrow morning to see you and speak to Mr Jones.”
“We have already caused you and Mr Bingley a lot of trouble. I hope we shall return home tomorrow. I do not want to be a burden any longer.”
“Bingley is as concerned as I am and determined that you receive the best care and comfort. You are not a burden to anyone. Besides…”
“Yes?”
“There is something that concerns me, and I am glad for this opportunity to discuss it with you. Mr Jones is a dutiful and diligent man, but he seems overwhelmed by the current situation. I think he would appreciate some help from someone with more experience.”
“Those are my thoughts exactly, sir. I considered asking my uncle to come, if his existing responsibilities will allow him to travel. I intended to speak to my father about it tomorrow morning. I hope Mr Jones will not mind.”
“I suspect he would be relieved. If you and your father agree, I shall send my servant with a letter for Mr Gardiner immediately.”
“Oh…pardon me…is Mr Jones not here?” a timid voice interrupted them from the open door.
“He has gone to the kitchen to prepare some herbal tea,” Elizabeth explained. “What has happened, Janey? Is my sister unwell?”
“I am not sure, miss. Miss Bennet is mumbling in her sleep…and her face is burning…”
Elizabeth cast a glance at Mr Darcy, then turned and ran to her sister’s room, only to find confirmation of her fears.
“Janey, I need a bowl of cold water and a cloth. Go and fetch Mr Jones. Quickly!”
The maid ran out, and Elizabeth noticed Mr Darcy watching from the doorway.
Their eyes met only for an instant, then he said, “I shall send my man to fetch Dr Gardiner this very moment. There is no time to lose.”
Tearfully, Elizabeth whispered a thank you, but he was already gone.
During the following hours, Elizabeth’s fear grew, but she swallowed her own discomfort and assisted Mr Jones. She hardly left Jane’s bedside at all, disregarding her own growing weakness and fever.
Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley offered their help countless times, but there was nothing they could do.
“I am so relieved that you sent word to Dr Gardiner, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr Jones admitted in a brief moment of tranquillity, when both Jane and Felton were sleeping peacefully.
“If he could come tomorrow, it would not be too soon. How are you feeling? You look flushed too. Have you drunk the herbal tea I prepared?”
They were having a brief moment of respite in Mr Jones’s sitting room, together with Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley.
“I have, sir. Do not worry — I am an obedient patient. I know better than to allow my own health to worsen. And you, gentlemen? Have you drunk yours?” she enquired, arching her eyebrow in demand.
“We have not,” Mr Darcy admitted. “I do not wish to sound disobedient,” he added with a little smile at her, “but I am quite confident we do not need it. We by no means suffered the same ordeal as you.”
“As you wish, sir. But be advised that, if you become ill, I shall admonish you for your disobedience at least a hundred times,” she said.
“I shall stoically accept your reproach if I deserve it, madam,” he replied.
The conversation, although innocent and friendly, disconcerted Elizabeth, as it did each time they spoke. Or when she dreamt of him, she mused, her cheeks heating even more.
“Miss Elizabeth, you seem unwell,” Mr Jones proclaimed. “Let me examine you. You look feverish.”
“I am well, I assure you.”
“Miss Elizabeth, I must agree with Mr Jones,” Mr Darcy interjected, his smile gone and his voice graver.
“Since your sister is now sleeping, perhaps you should do the same. You must be exhausted, even if you are not ill. You have experienced a trial that would have defeated even a strong, healthy man.”
“I shall, but first I must see Jane. Please excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, hurrying to her feet.
The three men eyed her in concern as she rose, and as she walked towards the door the room began to spin, and her steps became unsteady.
She stretched out her hand for something to support herself, but her knees betrayed her, and she collapsed to the floor, everything around her becoming dark.
As if it were a dream, with the darkness persisting and her head still spinning, she felt herself lifted, then carried, and finally placed down.
She heard voices, then became aware of shadows moving around and felt a few drops of water on her lips and something cold on her face.
She tried to open her eyes, but her lashes were too heavy.
“Miss Elizabeth? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?”
The voice grew louder, and her first coherent thought was that it might disturb Jane. She forced herself to obey, only to see Mr Jones, Mr Darcy, Mr Bingley, and Sarah all round her bed.
“I can hear you, sir. I am so sorry I gave you a fright. I am well — maybe a little tired, as Mr Darcy said. I shall sleep now.”
“Are you sure you are well, Miss Elizabeth? I beg you to be more honest than brave,” Mr Darcy insisted.
“I am…”
“I can see you have not eaten either,” he continued. “How can you take care of others if you neglect yourself?”
“That is an admonishment I deserve, and I expect to hear it at least a hundred times,” she answered, in a poor attempt at a joke. “And I shall ask Sarah to help me eat something.”
“I shall take your word for it, Miss Bennet. Now, we should leave and allow you to rest. After you eat, of course,” Mr Darcy concluded, a trace of a smile returning to the corner of his lips.
“You should do the same, gentlemen. I believe it is almost morning,” she whispered, and they left the chamber.
Despite her promise, Elizabeth did not eat, as she fell quickly asleep. The warmth that embraced her was soft and pleasant, and her body, as well as her mind, found the long-needed comfort.