CHAPTER 8 After the Coldness
After leaving Elizabeth’s room, Darcy went down into the small vestibule, sat in a chair and waited.
He wondered where Mr. Collins was but was thankful that he was not there at the moment.
Darcy did not think he could make idle conversation just then about the generosity and condescension of Lady Catherine.
Eventually Mrs. Collins came down and stood before him. He looked questioningly at her but did not trust himself to speak.
“Do you have an understanding with Elizabeth?” she asked, apparently too weary to mince words.
“No, I do not,” he answered. And then added, “But it is not for lack of trying.”
“You love her?”
“Yes,” he answered, thinking that he had been more honest about his sentiments over the past day than he ever had in his life.
“I heard what she said earlier,” said Mrs. Collins abruptly.
“I was not certain that I heard it myself...”
“She said your name, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Collins deliberately, “and then she told you not to go. And, though you have no understanding with her, she appears to derive comfort from your presence.”
“Do you think so?” he asked quietly.
“I cannot explain it in any other way.”
He nodded. “And how is she?”
“She has not yet awakened but at least her fever is lower. Dr. Stephens is just giving Jane more detailed instructions on the medicine he is giving her.”
“Thank God!”
Charlotte studied him curiously before saying, “I must return upstairs now but would like to ask you to call on her tomorrow.”
“Of course! I would like nothing more.”
She nodded somberly and said, “Thank you, sir. I shall see you tomorrow.” She turned, walked up the stairs and disappeared from view.
Less than a minute later, Jane Bennet appeared in the upper hallway, walked down and joined him in the vestibule.
“Good evening Miss Bennet,” he said with a bow.
“Mr. Darcy,” she responded, “I just wished to thank you for helping my sister tonight. And also for writing to Mr. Bingley and asking him to bring me here.”
“Did he tell you why I wrote the letter?”
She nodded. "Because Elizabeth needed me." She was quiet for a moment, then added, “Charlotte tells me that you shall call tomorrow...”
“Yes,” said Darcy, “I shall be here tomorrow…or rather…later today.”
“Good, Mr. Darcy…very good.” She smiled softly. “Until tomorrow, then.”
Not long after that, the doctor came down and they began their quick ride to Rosings. The doctor told Darcy that he was hopeful and Darcy wondered if he was only saying this to bolster his spirits.
“But, have you ever encountered such a high fever in a patient?” he asked.
Doctor Stephens thought about it for a moment before saying, “I have but…I must admit that it is somewhat rare…”
And what happened to these other patients?” asked Darcy. “Those whose fevers were as high as Miss Elizabeth’s?”
“I have to admit, Mr. Darcy, that some of them did not…live.”
Darcy swallowed. “How many?”
Dr. Stephens frowned. “More than half.”
They rode on in silence and eventually arrived at the stables and were divested of their horses.
In the front hall they bid each other goodnight and Darcy trudged up to his rooms. It was almost dawn and he looked out the window and saw that the sky was not as pitch black as it was before.
He lay in bed but could not sleep. Two hours later he arose, was shaved and dressed then went down to the breakfast parlour, still not having slept.
There he sat for an hour, lost in thought.
Eventually, Bingley came down and Darcy immediately suggested that they go to the parsonage.
“Allow me to eat first,” said Bingley, looking at him in astonishment, “then we shall go.”
“Yes, but eat quickly, Bingley.”
Bingley nodded but said nothing more. He began to butter his toast and cut up his ham, then proceeded to eat as quickly as he was able.
“I heard voices in the hallway last night,” he said a few minutes later. “Do you know anything about that?”
Darcy kept his eyes forward, recalling the sounds of Elizabeth’s wailing as he lowered her into the tub. “Dr. Stephens was called to the parsonage because Elizabeth’s fever was worse,” he explained, then added, “I went with him.”
“And was he able to lower it?”
“Yes, but with great effort.”
Bingley nodded, “I can understand your worries, my friend.”
“What do you mean?”
Bingley swallowed a piece of ham and said, “Do you recall when Jane was ill at Netherfield? I was beside myself with worry. We were not even married then, nor betrothed. And yet I knew, almost from the beginning of our acquaintance, that she would figure for quite sometime in my life. And I also knew how such fevers can suddenly turn for the worse. My own mother, you see, died in that way. So…I was happy to be near her, Jane, I mean…but worried that she would die.”
Darcy turned away, and nodded. It seemed that Bingley did understand. He ate rapidly then finished his coffee with a few swallows, then stood up.
“Ready?” asked Darcy.
“Yes, let us depart.”
They left through the front entrance this time and decided to walk. Darcy strode along, wishing to get there as soon as possible.
“You do not think it is too early for a call, do you?” Bingley asked Darcy as they walked along the lane.
“If it is,” said Darcy, “then they may send us away. But if we can be of any use then I wish to be there.”
“Of course, Darcy, of course.”
“Besides,” muttered Darcy, “I have been told that Dr. Stephens went there more than half an hour ago.”
They continued their walk in silence. There was a fragile beauty to the budding trees that Darcy had not noticed before.
Everything seemed fragile to him at the moment - especially when he considered how recently he had walked here with Elizabeth, seemingly happy.
But it was all an illusion. In his mind he had been courting her, and he had thought that she was enjoying their time together.
He realised now that she was only being polite, that she probably barely tolerated his company.
If only he had asked her more questions and attempted to learn more about her.
Perhaps they could have gotten to know one another better.
And perhaps she could have come to like him just a little.
Unfortunately, he had been a deluded fool.
When they arrived at the parsonage, they found that Charlotte and the doctor were having tea in the parlour.
“Miss Elizabeth is sleeping,” the doctor told them. “Likely because her fever has prevented any restful sleep over the past two days.”
“Is her fever gone then?” asked Darcy.
“Unfortunately, not. However, it is not as high as it was yesterday and that, at least, is reassuring.”
After a few minutes, Charlotte Collins stood up and announced that she would relieve Jane at the sick bed.
“Would you care to come up with me, Mr. Darcy?” she asked, looking significantly at him.
Darcy nodded and followed her out of the room, leaving Bingley to chat with the doctor.
“She said your name again,” whispered Charlotte as they headed up the stairs.
“Oh, I see…in what context?”
“Nothing in particular. She simply said your name.”
“So she has not actually awakened…” said Darcy worriedly.
“No, unfortunately.” Charlotte paused in the upstairs hallway and added, “Jane wondered why you seemed so concerned about Elizabeth’s wellbeing and so I told her that you admired Elizabeth. I apologise if I overstepped in doing this.”
“No, pray, do not apologise. For it would have seemed strange to Miss Bennet if you had offered no explanation at all.”
When they reached Elizabeth’s room, they were told by Jane that she seemed to be sleeping soundly and only occasionally mumbling something.