Chapter 4
Darcy jolted awake,his body aching from the exertion of the events the day prior. He gingerly stretched his limbs, relieved to find no hidden wounds. His thoughts immediately turned to Elizabeth, and he longed to see her, to assure himself of her well-being.
He rang for Barnes, his trusted valet, and began his morning routine. As he was shaving, a knock at the door interrupted him. Barnes entered, his face grave.
“Sir, I have troubling news,” Barnes said, his voice low. “Miss Elizabeth has developed a fever overnight.”
“A fever? How severe?”
“The staff have changed the sheets twice, sir. Mrs. Reynolds has already sent a servant to Lambton to fetch Dr. Ferren.”
Darcy nodded, his mind racing. “And the Gardiners?”
“They are awake and waiting for the doctor’s prognosis. They will decide whether Miss Elizabeth can recover here at Pemberley or if more drastic measures are necessary.” Barnes hesitated at the end of his sentence, as if he knew the gentleman he was informing would have his own recommended course of action but was obligated to remind them both that Miss Elizabeth was not a family member under his charge.
Not yet.
Mr. Darcy nodded. “Thank you, Barnes.”
He finished dressing hastily. The thought of Elizabeth suffering he could not abide. He had to see her, to offer whatever comfort and support he could.
This was one of the few times when he could exercise his position as master of Pemberley, and he intended to do so.
Whether by instinct or on advice from Barnes, Mrs. Reynolds was waiting for him on the stairs.
“Take me to her,” he said.
Mr. Darcy followedMrs. Reynolds into the guest room where Elizabeth lay. His hand reached out and touched her forehead. Her skin burned with fever.
The housekeeper lifted the sheet and revealed Elizabeth’s leg. The area around the cut was swollen and red. Darcy and Mrs. Reynolds exchanged a grave look.
Mrs. Reynolds turned to the maids. “Bring more cold compresses.” The maids hurried away.
Mr. Darcy considered the options. He knew the Gardiners waited outside, worried about their niece. Moving Elizabeth now could be dangerous, but he understood their desire to have her parents with her.
Her best chance was to remain in place, where she could receive proper care without the stress of transport. He hoped.
He left the room and addressed the Gardiners. “I understand you must wish her parents to be at her side, but the journey is more than two days by carriage. There is no question that she would receive inferior care on the road. We must trust Dr. Ferren and the care she will receive at Pemberley.”
The Gardiners nodded, their faces etched with worry. Mr. Darcy knew they were as conflicted as he was.
“We will do everything to ensure Miss Elizabeth’s recovery,” he assured them. “She will have the best care possible here.”
Mr. Darcy pacedthe hallway outside Elizabeth’s room, his mind consumed with dread. The Gardiners had reluctantly agreed to his plan. Mrs. Gardiner refused to leave her niece’s side, while Mr. Gardiner had departed with one of Darcy’s own servants to send word to the Bennets in Hertfordshire.
Mr. Darcy had instructed his staff to see to the Gardiners’ every need, but his thoughts lingered on Elizabeth. What if the fever did not break? The image of her lively eyes dimming, her clever mind addled by the fever’s delirium, tormented him.
Worse, what if she recovered, yet was forever altered? The very qualities he so admired—her sharp wit, her principled defiance of convention, her unaffected manner—could be lost. Her vibrant spirit could be extinguished, leaving only a hollow shell of the woman he loved.
Darcy caught himself, forcing such morbid thoughts from his mind. He was getting ahead of himself. Elizabeth was strong, resilient. She would fight this affliction with every ounce of her being. Had she not displayed remarkable fortitude already?
Despite this, the physician’s grave expression haunted him. Darcy knew he must steel himself against the cruelest possibility. He bowed his head, steadying his breath. If she perished, he would have to find the strength to let her go. To cherish the memories of her life force rather than mourn what could have been.
But not yet. He could not, would not, entertain that notion yet. Elizabeth would prevail. She had to.