CHAPTER 11 Bedside Visit
They returned to the parsonage, leaving Jane and Bingley to continue their walk through the gardens.
Charlotte did eventually return and offered them tea, coffee and light refreshments.
The doctor came down not long after that, telling them that Elizabeth’s fever remained but was slightly lower.
He recommended that she continue to be given tea and broth every few hours at least, since she took in very little each time she was given anything to drink.
“That is one thing I am worried about,” he said, “that she will weaken if she does not have enough fluids in her body. She can survive without food for some time, but the internal organs will shut down without enough fluids. And it is more likely to happen when there is a high fever. I have given her as much as she will drink, but I am afraid she has not had much at all.”
“I have tried as well,” murmured Charlotte, looking more worried than Darcy had ever seen her.
“How long can she survive without drinking?” he asked.
“A few days or slightly more. Or even less if the evaporation is more rapid.”
Darcy nodded, realising that Elizabeth’s fever may have been hastening her demise.
He suddenly stood up and went to the window.
He saw Jane and Bingley standing at the edge of the garden, apparently in deep conversation.
He was happy for the both of them but saddened by the fact that Jane might lose her beloved sister ere long.
He tried to shake himself out of his melancholy but was unfortunately too tired to do so.
He wondered abstractedly if she would still have gotten sick if he had worded his proposal in a nicer manner. It was irrational, he knew…
“But perhaps,” said Charlotte, interrupting his reverie, “Mr. Darcy might try giving her some fluids.”
He turned around abruptly and looked from the doctor to Charlotte.
“I have heard her say his name…on occasion,” she continued.
The doctor nodded musingly then looked at Darcy and asked, “Do you have an understanding with Miss Elizabeth?”
“Yes, he does,” answered Richard so suddenly that Darcy could only gape at him.
“He proposed to her two days ago,” added Anne.
“But she refused me!” cried Darcy, looking reprovingly at his cousins who both stared at him as if he were mad. He put his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose and turned away from the group.
“They simply did not agree on certain things,” continued Anne, as if to mitigate his folly. “And I am certain Miss Elizabeth shall change her mind eventually.”
“She does seem to say his name a great deal,” added Richard, who actually only knew this from hearsay.
“She has,” said a voice from the doorway. Darcy saw that it was Miss Bennet. She and Bingley must have approached the house while his head was turned. “I have heard it myself,” she continued softly.
Darcy did not know why everyone was so predisposed to think well of him. He did not feel particularly deserving of their good opinion. Besides which, only Elizabeth’s opinion mattered.
But Dr. Stephens only said, “Well then, I believe you should try, Mr. Darcy,”
They all looked at him expectantly.
I am sorry, Elizabeth, he thought to himself, I only hope you can forgive me for this.
“Very well,” he said. “I shall try.”
He followed Charlotte up the stairs again, and the maid, Mary, was tasked with bringing in another bowl of broth. He sat once more beside Elizabeth and tentatively took her hand.
“I do not wish to disturb her,” he said quietly to Charlotte without turning around.
“But I think you must try, Mr. Darcy,” she answered. “Only recall what the doctor said about Elizabeth needing fluids.”
He nodded, then slowly ran the fingertips of his free hand across her forehead. It was disturbingly hot.
“Elizabeth,” he said in a low voice. “Can you wake up? You need to drink something…”
He turned back to Charlotte, feeling exceedingly self-conscious. For who was he but the man whom Elizabeth had turned down only two days earlier? And now everyone knew of it. What right had he to even be here?
Charlotte, seeming to understand his hesitation, took a small step back and said, “I shall return shortly.”
She left the room.
Alone once more with Elizabeth, he felt slightly less embarrassed. “Elizabeth…” he began again. “You must drink something. Please, dearest…you must…”
*****
She was so tired. So thirsty. But she had not the will to move, let alone to drink. If only she could have turned her head, and buried her face in the snow. Perhaps some of it would melt on her lips. It did not even matter anymore how cold it was.
And then she heard his voice again. Low and soothing - a reminder of another life she used to live.
You must be so thirsty, he said. Allow me to help you. I shall lift you up. And bring a spoonful of nourishing broth to your lips. You only have to swallow, my love. Nothing more. It will be easy, will it not? To simply swallow…
She felt a hand go under her neck and shoulder, then his strong arm began to lift her up. A few seconds later, she sensed a warm spoon against her lips…and the smell of broth…
She could taste it now and realised that he was right. All she had to do was swallow. She swallowed that first spoonful and thought how delicious it was. Salty and flavourful. A few seconds later, she felt the spoon touch her lips again.
That’s it, darling. Only swallow. Delicious, is it not?
She revelled in the taste of the broth and the simultaneous sound of his voice. She felt soothed and cared for, and hoped he would not stop his ministrations. She could live forever listening to him, and being fed by him.
Eventually she was so full that she could eat no more, and so she turned her head slightly away.
He seemed to understand this and stopped presenting her with broth.
And yet his arm remained around her, and she was grateful for this.
She was less cold now and the snow seemed to recede somewhat.
She felt warmer inside, but could also feel his warmth against the left side of her face and upper body.
She detected the scent of sandalwood, pine and lemon.
He and this scent were now one and the same.
Perhaps the broth had given her some energy, for she was now able to press herself more firmly against him. She could almost feel herself smiling.
There, there, Elizabeth, his voice soothed, just lean into me. That's it, love. Rest now for a while. Then I shall give you something to drink.
More time went by, while she remained in the cocoon of sandalwood. She walked through a cool meadow high in the mountains. It was not Hertfordshire but some place further north. Perhaps it was the peaks of Derbyshire, a place she had only heard of. Darcy’s home.
She imagined walking through the high meadow with him, running her hands along the tops of the wildflowers, seeing his cravat loose about his neck, and feeling the tendrils of her own hair escaping their pins.
But she was becoming thirsty again from the long walk it took to get there. Her throat felt dry. And then she smelled it - the herb tea Jane used to make at home. Jasmine and honey, and even mint. It was an unusual mixture but she had always loved it.
She sat on the grass with Darcy and leaned against his chest.
You must be thirsty by now, love.
Yes, I am, she said to him, though her mouth did not move.
He held the cup to her lips, warm but not scalding.
How thoughtful he was for making it just the right temperature!
She swallowed the wonderful brew and felt herself smiling again.
She drank and wished for more, but her hands could not seem to move.
Yet he seemed to understand this as she heard him chuckle softly.
Do not worry, love, you may have all the tea you want. I most certainly shall not allow you to go thirsty.
When she had drunk enough, she turned away again. She collapsed back against his chest and that cocoon of sandalwood.
Sleep now, love, he said.
Do not leave me, she thought.
I will not leave you, he said.
*****
He was still holding Elizabeth in his arms when he heard a sound coming from behind him. It was Charlotte Collins. She looked from him to the empty bowl and cup on the side table, then back to him.
“You have held her for several hours now, Mr. Darcy,” she said softly.
“Do you wish for me to leave?” he asked in an equally low voice.
“Are you not tired?”
“No,” he answered, not wishing to leave Elizabeth.
“But I can see that you are, Mr Darcy,” she said with a frown. “How long has it been since you slept?”
“I cannot remember. The day before yesterday, perhaps…”
She nodded understandingly. “However, it seems that you are the only one who can feed her and make her drink.”
“I do not mind being here.”
She smiled. “Yes, I know. For your attendance has been ceaseless. Nevertheless, please take a few moments to refresh yourself. And then you may return.”
He nodded, lay Elizabeth gently upon the bed then stood up.
He was just about to leave the room when Charlotte stayed him by saying, “I do not know why Elizabeth refused you but…do not give up.”
“No, I will not,” he answered, then left the room.
He did not know if she meant not giving up on Elizabeth’s life. Or not giving up on his suit. Regardless, he would not give up on either.
He went downstairs and saw Jane Bennet in the parlour having tea. She told him that the doctor had gone to Netherfield with Bingley, Mr. Collins and his cousins, and would return in an hour or so.
She poured him a cup of tea and handed him a plate of sandwiches. “Thank you for your assistance with my sister, Mr. Darcy. I know that I can never repay you but you have my heartfelt thanks nonetheless.”
He looked towards the floor. “I only hope she gets better.”
“She will,” said Jane. “I was worried before, but am not anymore.”