Chapter Twenty-Two #3
“Mrs. Darcy has no broken bones, which is the good news. From the multiple scratches and bruises, it appears she rolled down the surface rather than falling freely. An impact from that height would have caused more severe injuries. She did hit her head, and these types of injuries can be serious, Mr. Darcy. Your wife may not recover immediately, but Mrs. Darcy is young, and I, truthfully, expect her to have no serious complications. Someone should stay with her at all times until Mrs. Darcy is conscious. When she does awake, she will not be able to stand on her left ankle until the swelling recedes. There are various cuts and bruises, which will require attending. Have her maid bathe her thoroughly and dress the wounds.”
“No, I will do it, Mr. Spencer.” Darcy’s insistence surprised the doctor, but he did not argue. “Did my wife say anything, Mr. Spencer?”
“Just your name, sir.” The man hesitated. “I have known you since your birth, Darcy. May I make an observation?”
Not removing his eyes from Elizabeth lying on his bed, Darcy nodded absentmindedly.
“Although we must watch her carefully, your wife has no major injuries. A bad headache and a sore ankle are a little price to pay for such a fall as what your sister described. Those will easily mend. Why she was outside for so long on such a day as this may take longer to heal.” He patted Darcy on the shoulder as he prepared his bag to depart.
“Unless things change and you require me before then, I will call on Mrs. Darcy in three days. I will leave you several draughts for pain. Once she is awake, she may require them.”
“Thank you, Mr. Spencer.” Darcy permitted himself to breathe again.
He kissed Georgiana’s forehead as she grasped his hand.
“Without you …” he whispered, but he did not finish his thought.
Trancelike, he walked into his room and closed the door.
Georgiana would know, without being told, to order more hot water and bandages to be brought to her brother’s room.
Darcy set about examining Elizabeth’s wounds and seeing that she was properly cleaned.
He placed a screen around the bed to protect her from the view of others.
As she was so fragile in appearance, he refused to move her any more than was necessary, so he went to her room, found her sewing scissors, and began to cut the clothes from Elizabeth’s body.
He talked to her the whole time, describing what he was doing, telling her of his love, of her beauty, and of his sorrow for harming her.
He prayed aloud, thanking God for sparing her life.
Then he used the warm water to bathe the dirt caked on her arms and legs.
At length, he redressed the wounds that were deep enough to become infected.
He doubled the counterpane over her body and then collapsed in the chair beside the bed.
He caught her limp hand in his and brushed the hair from her face. “Stay with me, Lizzy,” he whispered.
Exhausted, he drifted in and out of sleep, but his dreams were filled with images of Elizabeth’s frail body lying on the rocky ledge and the anger on her face when she stormed from her dressing room. When morning arrived, Georgiana appeared to check on Elizabeth’s progress.
Rousing him by touching his shoulder, she said, “William, you should find something to eat. I will sit with Elizabeth.”
“I cannot leave her, Georgiana. I harmed her, something I swore to God I would never do. I am the most wretched of men. It should be I lying there beaten or bruised, not her.”
“She would not want that, brother. Elizabeth loves you.”
“With her last words to me in this house, she told me she never wished to see me again. I cannot live without her.”
“Elizabeth did not mean what she said. You injured her pride, so she reciprocated. You were as children playing some game, which neither of you could win. It was your name she called when the surgeon was present. It is you she loves even now. You cannot tend Elizabeth if you are unwell. Please, William, go below and eat your breakfast. Then you may return to care for Mrs. Darcy.”
Darcy hesitatingly agreed, swearing to be gone no longer than a quarter hour.
Before he departed the room, he adjusted the counterpane, knowing Elizabeth would be embarrassed if someone viewed her undressed.
Georgiana assumed his seat and caught Elizabeth’s hand.
As he departed, he heard his sister talking softly to his wife, professing her affection for Elizabeth and begging her to return to them.
Knowing anything more would not sit well with his empty stomach, Darcy swallowed toast with butter, washing it down with coffee. As he left the morning room to return to his chambers, he heard Georgiana calling him. “William, come quick! Please hurry!”
Taking the stairs two and three at a time, he rounded the corner to find Georgiana on her way to look for him. “She is awake. Elizabeth calls your name, brother.”
In a fraction of a second, Darcy was kneeling beside the bed holding her hand and brushing the hair from her face. “Lizzy, I am here. Speak to me.”
Her eyes fluttered—opened and closed—but Elizabeth managed to say, “William.” He kissed her hand. “You found me.”
“I love you, Elizabeth. You are my life. Where you are, I will always be.”
From the expression upon her features, he realized the effort of her thoughts made it difficult for her to put the words together. “I love you, Mr. Darcy.” She attempted to smile. “I cannot sleep without you. I must sleep, William.”
“Shush, Lizzy, I am here.” He gingerly crawled in the bed beside her, fearing his touch might injure her more.
Elizabeth pulled his arm across her body and then closed her eyes.
He, too, closed his eyes and dreamed as he always did.
There was still much to right in their world.
Even so, he dreamed of her and of himself.