Chapter 14
It was dawn when Elizabeth gently knocked on the door of the patient’s room. She cared little that she was wearing only her nightgown. She had been so tormented by horrible dreams in the short amount of time that she had managed to sleep, that she needed to find out how he was feeling.
“We have no news, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr Jones said. “There is no improvement but happily he is no worse either.”
Elizabeth needed only a glimpse to notice that not much had changed. The three men were all seated around the bed, but the patient was still immobile.
“May I bring you something?” she asked.
“No, we have been properly attended already,” Mr Jones answered.
Elizabeth wished to stay, but such impropriety was hard to justify. Therefore, she delayed for a few minutes, then left and considered if she should return to her chamber or not. At such an early hour, the house was silent and asleep.
Despite Mr Jones’ caution and her own fear, Elizabeth had not caught a cold from the previous day’s events. Her time spent in the rain and her desperate run through the storm had left no scars.
She eventually decided to go to the kitchen. As she expected, there was Hill, already preparing breakfast. Elizabeth’s appearance was greeted with a smile of welcome. A cup of tea was offered, which Elizabeth enjoyed in the company of the long-time servant, who was more like part of the family.
“Miss, you were fearless yesterday,” Hill said.
“Oh, that is nonsense,” Elizabeth smiled. “I did nothing but run home to ask for assistance.”
“But still. You should not walk alone in the woods–especially with all these officers around. I have heard some of them are not as honourable as they should be.”
“Hill, what on earth are you talking about?”
“I say–Miss, my sister’s husband works at Netherfield and she saw things at the ball. Mrs Forster was talking outside in the dark with an officer.”
“What business do we have with either of them, Hill? You should not gossip at peoples’ expense. Maybe they only talked. I talk with many people–men and women–all the time. Is that dishonourable?” Elizabeth scolded the servant, albeit in a friendly tone.
“Oh, you know what I mean, miss! And Mr Darcy–we believe someone attacked him! Stevens said he would never fall from his horse otherwise.”
“Hill! This is a dangerous matter to speak of, if you are not certain. If you hear something beyond gossip, let me know. Otherwise, please do not involve yourself in such idle chatter. Thank God you did not say anything about Mr Darcy doing something improper,” Elizabeth tried to jest, blushing.
“Oh no, ma’am. Mr Darcy is too haughty and pretentious to do anything improper. I asked Stevens if his master ever takes off his clothes when he is healthy. I cannot imagine him ever being improperly attired.”
“Hill!” Elizabeth rebuked the woman with complete seriousness. “Such words are upsetting and disappointing! I did not expect such a lack of propriety from you, truly!”
“Forgive me, miss, I was only joking. I meant no offence; I was only trying to lighten your mood. I know how much you dislike Mr Darcy but Stevens said he is the finest of men.”
“And if so, should we make jokes behind his back, while he is suffering? And no, I do not dislike him. Why should I, since he was the one who saved us–as I am sure you know.”
Elizabeth left the kitchen feeling irritated.
The rumours that had spread so easily around the village would be hard to stop and Mr Darcy was understandably in the middle of them.
But could it be true that he had been attacked?
She thought quite thoroughly about the wound on his leg and on the horse.
But who would do such a thing, in broad daylight, in view of Longbourn?
She spent the following hours in the library, reading, and then checked on Darcy again. The time passed slowly and it seemed forever until breakfast was eventually set. Mr Bennet, Jane and Elizabeth ate in silence, but the table did not lack animated conversation.
The distress seemed to improve the appetite and disposition of some yet ruined it for others.
Lydia and Kitty spoke mostly of Wickham and Denny, and briefly about Charlotte Lucas’s horrible fate as the wife of the repulsive Mr Collins.
“I would rather die than marry a man who is not handsome.” Lydia declared.
Mrs Bennet readily approved such a statement.
“My dear, sadly, not all of us can be as fortunate as Jane, to be admired by a man who is handsome and wealthy and amiable all together. But then again, not all of us are as beautiful as Jane either.”
“Mama, please,” Jane whispered.
“Come now, dearest, do not be modest. Everybody must agree that, if a beauty like you can gain Mr Bingley’s favours, someone as plain as Charlotte is well enough settled with Mr Collins.”
“Mama!” Jane repeated, flushed and embarrassed.
Mrs Bennet ignored her. “Mr Bennet, do you have any news from Mr Bingley or Mr Darcy’s relatives?”
“I do not, Mrs Bennet. Rest assured that if I do, you will be the first to know.”
“Well, I am sure a letter will come today.”
“Very likely. With your permission, I will wait for it in the library,” Mr Bennet concluded, separating from his family as soon as he finished his meal.
More hours passed and Elizabeth, together with Jane, took turns in the patient’s room, allowing Mr Jones and Peter time to rest and eat.
Stevens never left his master's side, barely spoke to anyone, and kept asking if any news from London had arrived.
The general concern increased and the darkest thoughts invaded the family as time passed and Darcy showed no sign of recovery.
Even for the less informed among the Bennets, it was clear that the longer his state continued thus, the harder it would be to regain his strength. And Mr Jones did not help much, as his own angst was apparent.
By the afternoon no letter had come from London still, but when the daylight began to fade, a large carriage stopped in front of Longbourn.
From it, Mr Bingley hastily jumped, offering his hand to a young lady, then to an older one.
Behind them was a gentleman of Mr Bennet’s age, carrying a medical bag.
The Bennet girls all ran to the windows, staring at the scene outside.
Jane turned pale, taking Elizabeth’s hand.
Her worst fears had become reality, as she witnessed Mr Bingley walking with the young lady on his arm.
Even for Jane’s kind heart, the pain was too hard to bear.
Mr and Mrs Bennet were informed and they hurried to greet the new arrivals.
“Mr Bingley, how good of you to come,” Mrs Bennet gushed, as though it were a joyous occasion. She looked at Jane meaningfully, but her eldest daughter was pale and kept her eyes down.
“Mrs Bennet, Mr Bennet…Miss Bennet…” Bingley bowed to them.
The young lady clenched at his arm and he tenderly kept his hand over hers.
Her figure showed delicate and flawless beauty.
Her eyes were as blue as the sky on a serene summer day, but dark circles surrounded them, betraying her turmoil.
She looked at them, lost, fearful, her lips dry, leaning on Bingley, searching for support.
Elizabeth held Jane’s hand tighter.
“Allow me to introduce you to Miss Georgiana Darcy, her companion Mrs Annesley and Dr. Aaron Cooper. He has been the Darcys’ doctor for years,” Bingley said.
“Please, may I see my brother?” Miss Darcy pleaded abruptly.
Her haste sounded impolite, even rude, but the depth of her sorrow was obvious.
Elizabeth’s heart was touched; she gently released Jane’s hand although she knew her sister was suffering too.
But between the two kinds of sorrows, she chose to comfort the stranger’s.
“Miss Darcy, I am Elizabeth Bennet. I shall take you to your brother.” Miss Darcy’s eyes moistened with tears and she hastily stepped forward.
“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”
“I will join you,” Dr. Cooper said. “Forgive me, but I must see the patient first. Any other conversation can be postponed.”
The Bennets nodded, inviting the two to enter. Bingley hesitated a moment, looking from Georgiana to Jane; in the end, he remained with Mrs Annesley and followed the Bennets into the drawing room.
Jane was so devastated that she could barely walk, her restraint puzzling Bingley even more. Distressed, he sat near Mrs Annesley on the sofa, glancing at Jane from time to time while she stubbornly avoided his eyes.
The Bennets talked, asking and providing information about Darcy all together. Bingley asked for details and the entire story was narrated to him. He listened and wondered, astounded, repeating how good a rider Darcy was.
“He had looked unwell all week. I think he has had a bad cold since that day in the cottage,” Bingley declared. “I strongly opposed him riding all the way to London! He planned to meet Stevens at an inn, but we asked there and we were told Darcy never arrived and Stevens returned to look for him.”
Mr Bennet nodded.
“I feared something might happen and it did. I was shocked when I received your letter. I had just arrived home and I planned to meet my solicitor today and then such news...I immediately went to Georgiana…to Miss Darcy. She was devastated and almost fainted from fright. She was crying and wished to come here in the middle of the night. Alone, with only Mrs Annesley. Her closest relatives, the Matlocks, are at their property in Derbyshire until spring. She was waiting for her brother to spend Christmas together and instead she received such horrible news.”
Mrs Annesley nodded silently in agreement, while Bingley continued to mumble with little coherence, combining questions with answers in a barely rational conversation with Mrs Bennet.
“Well, where are my manners? You must be tired and hungry; let me order some refreshments. I shall ring for Hill. No, I had better go and talk to her personally,” Mrs Bennet suddenly said, leaving the drawing room before anyone had the chance to reply.