Chapter 17 #2
“Excuse me, Miss Bennet,” Mr Darcy said.
He stepped closer and gently swung her up into his arms, avoiding her injured ankle.
The action was so immediate, so entirely free from deliberation, that she had no time to prepare for it.
One moment she had been standing, uncertain but composed; the next, she was no longer on the ground at all.
Her hand found his shoulder by instinct rather than intention. “I assure you, Mr Darcy, this is not at all necessary…”
“It is,” he said. There was nothing in his manner to suggest that he would be persuaded otherwise.
Elizabeth did not speak again. She was aware of every particular of the situation, all her senses alive to each impression.
The steadiness with which he held her, the ease with which he moved, the nearness of him, which no ordinary circumstance could have produced, all impressed themselves on her at once.
It was not the pain in her ankle that made her silent, or even embarrassment at her situation. It was something much more difficult to name.
As they were significantly closer to Rosings than to the parsonage, Mr Darcy continued in that direction.
He carried her without apparent effort, his pace measured, his attention divided between the path and the burden he bore, though not in a way that suggested uncertainty.
The ground, uneven as it was, did not appear to trouble him.
Elizabeth searched for something to say and found nothing. She was not accustomed to being carried, least of all by him.
“I fear,” she said at last, though more quietly than she intended, “that I have occasioned you a great deal of inconvenience.”
“You have occasioned me none,” he replied steadily.
“I must still regret it.”
“I do not regret it.”
The answer, though simply given, had the effect of silencing her again. She did not attempt to interpret it. It was better, she thought, not to do so. Yet she could not prevent herself from feeling that the situation, which ought to have been merely awkward, was something else entirely.
The approach to Rosings was made more quickly than Elizabeth would have thought possible, though she was not in a condition to measure the distance with any precision.
When the house came into view, rose before them with its usual air of formality, but she had little attention to spare for it.
The pain in her ankle and her awareness of being in Mr Darcy’s arms occupied all her mind.
Observing their approach, a servant hastened forward, his expression shifting at once from expectation to surprise.
“Mr Darcy, sir.”
“There has been a minor accident,” Mr Darcy said without pausing. “Miss Bennet has turned her ankle. We require assistance.”
The servant bowed and moved aside at once, opening the door without further inquiry.
Within, the effect of their entrance was immediate. Miss Darcy, who had been seated near the window, rose at once, her composure giving way to visible concern as she saw Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet, what has happened?”
“It is nothing very serious, I hope,” Elizabeth said, though she could not entirely prevent the effort from showing. “Only a moment’s carelessness.”
Mr Darcy did not set her down at once, but carried her further into the room before lowering her carefully into a chair.
“She should not attempt to stand,” he said. “Not until we know the extent of the injury.”
Miss Darcy moved nearer, her anxiety plain, though she kindly restrained herself from any expression that might increase Elizabeth’s discomfort. “Does it pain you very much?” Miss Darcy asked with concern.
“Not so much as to alarm me,” Elizabeth replied, with a faint smile. “Though I think I must be content to remain still for the present.”
Lady Catherine, who had been informed of their arrival, entered the room at this moment. Her attention, at first directed toward Mr Darcy, altered rapidly as she perceived the situation. “What is this? Miss Bennet, what have you done to yourself?”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to answer, but Mr Darcy spoke before her.
“She has injured her ankle while walking. It is not yet clear how severely.”
Lady Catherine regarded this with evident disapproval. “And you thought it proper to bring her here?”
“It was the nearest house,” he replied.
“Surely you might have gone to seek help and sent a cart for Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine protested.
“I would not leave a lady alone in such a circumstance,” he said, his tone even.
Lady Catherine paused, as though considering whether to pursue the matter further, but her attention was already shifting toward practical arrangements.
“Send for the doctor,” she said at last. “Mr Collins’s household cannot be expected to manage such a situation properly.”
A servant was dispatched at once, and in the interval Georgiana remained near Elizabeth, speaking to her in a tone intended to reassure without intruding.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had entered shortly after, sat near them, cheering Elizabeth’s spirits with a very welcome mix of reassurances and jokes.
Mr Darcy spoke little, but he did not withdraw far. He stood where he might observe without appearing to do so, his attention returning to Elizabeth whenever she spoke, as though unwilling to trust entirely to her assurances that the injury was slight.
The doctor arrived in due time and examined her ankle with professional calm. “It is not broken,” he said at last. “Only sprained. It will require rest, but with proper attention, there is no reason it should not recover fully.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Elizabeth said. “That is a considerable relief.”
“You must not attempt to walk on it today,” the doctor continued. “And for the next week at least, you must walk no farther than is absolutely necessary.”
Lady Catherine nodded, as though the instruction had confirmed her own expectations. “She cannot remain here,” she said. “She must be returned to the parsonage at once. Mrs Collins will take care of her.”
“I will see her there,” Mr Darcy said. The words were spoken simply, yet with a firmness that left little room for objection.
Lady Catherine looked at him with surprise, though she did not oppose him. “If you think it necessary,” she said.
“I do.”
Arrangements were made without further delay, and the carriage was brought round. Mr Darcy assisted Elizabeth into it with the same care he had shown before, though the circumstance, now less sudden, allowed her a greater awareness of what she felt.
She settled herself as best she could, though the motion of the carriage, once it began, reminded her painfully of the injury she had sustained. Mr Darcy had taken the seat opposite, his attention fixed on her steadily.
“I am very sorry,” she said after a moment. “I have caused a great deal of disturbance.”
“None that signifies,” he replied.
“It must still be inconvenient.”
“It is not.”
She met his look, wishing to determine whether he spoke merely from politeness, but there was nothing in his expression to suggest that he did.
“I ought to thank you,” she said, more quietly. “For your help. I do not know how I should have managed without it.”
“You need not consider it in that way,” he returned. “I could not have done otherwise.”
There was a brief silence, and the carriage moved steadily on, the sound of the wheels upon the road filling the space between them.
Elizabeth found she was more aware of it than she would have been at any other time, as though the ordinary movement of the journey had taken on a greater significance.
“If you will not let me apologise,” Elizabeth remarked, “then you must let me thank you. I must have been a most inconvenient burden to carry so far.”
“You are welcome, then,” Mr Darcy said. “But I should not wish to leave you in any misapprehension of how I view the afternoon. I regret only your injury. That it was necessary to carry you, I can only regard as a privilege.”
Astonished, warmed, and thrilled, Elizabeth met his eyes. She knew she must be blushing, and even in Mr Darcy’s face, she could see a trace of colour. He looked away after a moment, though not before giving her a smile that made Elizabeth’s heart race.
They reached the parsonage only moments later. Mr Collins was at the door before the servant had properly let down the steps.
“My dear Cousin Elizabeth,” he began, having already arranged his concern into phrases of suitable consequence, “what an unfortunate event this is. What an alarming interruption to the pleasures of your visit. Lady Catherine was so extremely condescending as to send immediate notice, and Charlotte has been in the greatest solicitude.”
Charlotte herself appeared behind him, and whatever Mr Collins might have added was thankfully cut short by the simple steadiness of her manner.
“Lizzy,” she said, coming forward without ceremony, “do not attempt to move more than you must.”
“I shall obey you willingly,” Elizabeth replied.
Mr Darcy had already stepped down from the carriage.
Before Mr Collins could offer his services, or Charlotte suggest any other arrangement, he turned back toward Elizabeth and said, with the same calm certainty he had shown before, “You must allow me to carry you in. It will be easier than trying the steps.”
Mr Collins, who seemed at once impressed by the offer and uneasy at being forestalled in his own household, drew himself up with an expression of solemn admiration.
“My dear sir, your concern does you the highest credit. The greatest credit. Such attention, at such a moment, must ever recommend itself to the feelings of all present.”
Charlotte cast him a brief look which might, in another person, have been called reproving, then turned again to Elizabeth as though to spare her the necessity of answering.
Elizabeth, who felt refusal to be both impossible and absurd, and felt likewise a certain private thrill at the thought of being in his arms again, said, “You are very obliging, Mr Darcy.”