Chapter 37
The return home was quiet.
Mother, son, and the Colonel meditated silently, sitting in the carriage, each wrestling with their own demons, each considering how they could have protected Elizabeth better.
Darcy reprimanded himself more than the others; what if she dies? He tortured himself constantly, with an unrelenting iron fist of fear gripping his heart. What am I to do? I cannot lose Elizabeth, Lord.
And so he sent rambling prayers up, tortured supplications of a man who had once struggled to confess his affection, but who now feared that he had waited too long.
They reached Pemberley and Lady Anne almost ran to Elizabeth’s chambers, to find the invalid resting more peacefully than she had so far.
Seeing her improvement they all breathed a sigh of relief, but that night Elizabeth’s condition deteriorated once again, leading Lady Anne to reach out to Darcy for his opinion in the dead of night.
“She is burning up, William, she has not been able to take more willow bark tea and the fever is raging.” His mother started to cry, quietly.
“I do not know what to do. There is no point in calling Dr Holler again. It is not as if he can work a miracle and she certainly cannot go through another leech therapy.”
Darcy had not seen his mother cry since his father’s death.
He was dismayed.
He hugged her and allowed her to cry unhindered for a few minutes, realising his mother was burdened with the added pressure of Elizabeth’s care.
They still had not sent word to her family in Brighton about her attack, for they had hoped that Elizabeth would improve quickly, but time seemed to be running out.
After letting his mother cry for a few minutes, he asked gently, holding his own tears at bay, “What do you suggest?”
“We have been bathing her face and chest for hours now with no improvement whatsoever.”
Darcy stepped out of his bedroom determined, “in that case mother, we have no other option but to dunk her in the bath.”
She agreed, “Maybe Mrs Reynolds, Mandy and I will be able to drag her to the bath... maybe if I get in the bath with her...” His mother said more to herself than to him.
“No, you will not, mother.” Darcy exclaimed firmly, “I will carry her.”
His mother gasped, “William, you cannot. You will ruin her reputation. She will…”
“Mother,” Darcy stopped her, “what is preferable? That I help save Miss Bennet’s life or that she dies with her reputation intact? Also we cannot afford for you too to become ill.”
“What do we do then?” She was resigned.
“Let us go to her bedroom.” He directed her gently but firmly back to Elizabeth’s chamber.
When they arrived there Mrs Reynolds and Mandy were trying frantically to bring her fever down, manically wiping her forehand with damp cloths, but to no avail, for Elizabeth looked as red as if she had been burning with naked flames.
“Fill the bath immediately,” Darcy instructed. He moved to the bell pull and ordered more tepid water to be brought up.
A battalion of footmen carried buckets of water and soon the bath was filled.
Mandy was sent from the room and Mrs Reynolds and Lady Anne prepared Elizabeth, making sure she was properly covered with her nightgown. When this task was performed, they made room for Darcy who had removed his sleepers and stockings.
He picked Elizabeth up and cradled her in his arms. With a look of determination and resolve he got into the bath.
Splashing water everywhere, he held her against him keeping her back firmly tucked under his chin and pressed against his chest as his mother splashed water gently on her face and head.
At direct contact with the water, her nightgown immediately became transparent and stuck to her figure in a most revealing manner, but Darcy closed his eyes and his mind to it.
A deathly ill and helpless Elizabeth was in no way enticing.
Yet his resolve to ignore her soft curves under his hands was almost supernatural.
After a few minutes submerged in lukewarm water Elizabeth shivered and soon her body was covered in goose flesh.
The fever had broken!
She moaned pitifully.
Very soon Darcy himself was shivering. He asked his mother if they could get out of the bath before his lips turned blue and Lady Anne nodded, satisfied that together the two of them with their trusted housekeeper had saved Elizabeth’s life.
This was the last time Elizabeth suffered from fevers. Within the next few days her recovery was more evident. The lump on her head subsided and the cut on her face started to heal and slowly fade.
Doctor Holler visited her another four times and on the last visit he declared her healthy enough to leave her bedchamber, although a footman would be required to carry her downstairs for a change of scenery.
The doctor had reassured her that the sprain, though healing well, would take a further five or six weeks to completely mend; but to Elizabeth, it felt like a prison sentence.
To Darcy it felt worse.
He watched her from across the drawing room as she stared out the window toward the distant hills, those rolling green slopes she so longed to explore.
She was restless, having seen so little of Pemberley and she could not stay here forever. She would have to return home by the end of August, whether she was fit or not.
Meanwhile, Darcy often remembered her declaration, that she loved him, when she was unconscious and lying in his arms… could he tell her now, when she was awake and aware of his presence, that he returned her feelings?
But instead he simply exclaimed, “You are frowning at the landscape again, Miss Bennet.”
“I am frowning at my captivity.”
“You are recovering.”
“I am imprisoned.”
A reluctant smile touched his lips. Elizabeth noticed it immediately.
“You find my suffering amusing, Mr Darcy?”
“Only your dramatic description of it, madam,” he chuckled.
She folded her arms in disgust. There was an adorable pout on her lips that tempted him to smooth it with his own.
She seemed truly unhappy.
His smile faded.
“Miss Bennet, you have options, you need not be trapped inside the house. May I carry you to the garden and sit you under a tree? We can picnic there… the day is so beautiful.”
She looked up and smiled self-consciously, “oh Mr Darcy I wish for nothing more than to be outside, but I do not want to impose on you.”
“Do you believe you are an imposition?”
“I know you carried me when you found me…” she bit her lower lip. “That was very gentlemanly of you.”
He got up and sat right next to her and leaning very close he whispered “what about when I carried you to the bath and sat in the cold water with you?”
She blushed and looked around nervously.
“Do not worry, Miss Bennet, the first servant to gossip about it will find himself without a job and without a reference.”
“I do not worry about gossip from below stairs sir, but I do wonder about what you may think of me.”
“Do you really wish to know what I think of you?” His voice was low and husky.
Elizabeth looked up and saw something in his dark eyes, a glimmer that she had seen countless times before but could never quite understand.
She cleared her throat and said loudly, “Well, Mr Darcy if you would be so kind as to take me outside to the garden, I will be forever grateful.”
Darcy did not wait for another invitation.
He stood and very carefully picked her up.
Her scent of rose, peony and something sweet like honey was intoxicating.
He took a deep breath of it and for a moment he almost forgot himself and nearly kissed her head, which was tucked into his chest. He fought for control as he carried her through the opened French doors and sat her down gently on a wood bench under an ancient Spanish oak.
“Excuse me for a moment, Miss Bennet, I shall order a picnic and bring you a friend who is very keen to see you again.”
He disappeared through the French doors and a few minutes later he returned with Hamlet bouncing happily at his side.
The dog ran to her and looking up adoringly, laid his enormous head on her lap.
“Oh, my dear friend, how I have missed you,” She stroked his head lovingly.
Darcy felt an unreasonable urge to kick the dog away and replace his head with his own. Then he smiled.
“You know, had it not been for Hamlet we may not have found you in time to save your life. He was pivotal to your discovery.”
She lowered her head and kissed the Great Dane’s head, while he wagged his tail enthusiastically, hitting Darcy’s leg like a whip.
After a few minutes of this indulgence, the dog was happy to sit by Elizabeth’s feet and rest contentedly.
Elizabeth looked at Darcy wistfully, “may I ask, Mr Darcy if Miss Buchanan was ever confronted about what she did?”
He nodded, “yes, she was reprimanded most severely, threatened with exposure of not only her crime against you but also of her previous offence; crimes which would bring her whole family down with her.”
“I see,” Elizabeth looked disappointed; her attacker’s rebuke did not seem enough punishment for what she had done.
Darcy noticed it, “However, her father has written to inform me that she has been sent away to family in Liverpool. He has secured passage and a companion to send her to Canada, where she will live with a distant family member. She will never return to these parts again.”
Elizabeth looked away thoughtfully, “I wonder what she hoped to achieve. I do not understand why she took upon herself to be so malicious towards me. What did she possibly perceive that I represent in your life?”
Darcy looked at her intently, “Julia is not a stupid woman; she may be dishonourable, a liar and a fornicator, but she is not an idiot. Even without seeing me by your side, she was able to ascertain that I…”
“That you what?” Elizabeth asked frowning.
“That I love you.” He said breathlessly.
At that very moment two footmen arrived to set up a table. Several maids appeared behind them with a table cloth and a variety of cold meats, cheeses, strawberries, grapes, slices of fresh and fragrant bread, a paté terrine and a bottle of chilled wine.
The servants took their time to set it all up, making everything look absolutely marvellous; a picnic table fit for a queen.
However Elizabeth saw none of it. She could not remove her eyes from Darcy, even had her life depended on it.