Chapter 14 #2
He ought to write to his sister, and his other friends too, but the idea of explaining the entire escapade was daunting.
He had not even written to say he was engaged yet.
He had been waiting until he had Mr Bennet’s approval, and that was the news he wanted to share.
Avoiding a necessary task was unlike him, but informing them of his poor health could wait another day.
More important was to learn how Elizabeth was and if Henry sent a rider from Longbourn with news of how the family coped.
He rang for Warren, but when his valet came in, he refused to set out his clothes.
“Sir, the surgeon said you are to rest for a week.”
“Surely, he meant not to travel for a week, and I would not do that anyway, so long as Miss Bennet is here. We might soon be able to go to Longbourn.”
“Mr Hunter specifically said ‘in bed,’” said Warren, giving him a new nightshirt and banyan rather than the morning clothes he asked for. “You cannot handle any exertion, and we must reintroduce foods carefully.”
“I need to know how Miss Bennet is!” He angrily yanked the clothes from Warren’s hands, who let them go with start.
He instantly regretted his rudeness. It was not his valet’s fault for following the surgeon’s orders and for trying to keep him alive.
Darcy muttered an apology and dressed for staying in his chamber.
Warren accepted his concession with a nod. “I will send in Mrs Tessier to report on how Miss Bennet is. I know Mr Henry sent a messenger late last night. He will bring Miss Bennet’s elder sister later today in your carriage.”
His valet fussed over him for a little longer and offered him some dreadful gruel that Darcy thought the surgeon mad for thinking anyone would find nourishing or appetising.
Mrs Tessier soon saved him from it, and he impatiently endured her long-winded well wishes until she finally mentioned Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet is much the same as she was last night. Headache, confused, nauseous. She does not remember much of yesterday. Her thoughts are rather all in a jumble. But no symptoms worse than before have appeared,” she added.
Something of his crestfallen feelings must have shown on his face.
“The surgeon is confident in her eventually being more coherent, I assure you. But Mr Hunter insists she is to be kept easy. No visitors, no noise, no commotion.”
Disappointment hit him in the chest. He was not sure what he expected. Of course, she had a concussion and was dangerously ill. Elizabeth might not even be able to sit up without pain. There was no way that he could talk with her, and they were not leaving anytime soon.
Who knew when she could endure a carriage ride? His stay at Woodcote was far from over. “It will be distressing to her friends to be involving you in such trouble, madam. But I am afraid Miss Bennet’s condition is serious and she cannot be moved for—”
“Miss Bennet must remain where she is,” Mrs Tessier insisted.
“Her removal is impossible, as is yours.” She smiled.
“The reason is terrible, of course, but I love to have people about, especially since my husband died. Anyone who wants to tend to either of you must come.” Her expression fell.
“I would care for Miss Bennet myself, but Julia—well, Julia needs tending to in her own way.”
“Henry is returning with Miss Bennet’s eldest sister, freeing you to tend to Miss Metcalfe’s sensibilities,” he said flatly. “Jane Bennet must be free from any mention or sight of that woman. It could only remind her of her sister’s near death.”
He could not hide his dislike. He pitied Julia and did not blame her for her mother’s actions, but he could never respect her.
Mrs Tessier stopped fidgeting with her rings and gave a relieved smile.
“I will be glad to have Miss Bennet here, and of course I will help tend to Miss Elizabeth, too. It will distract my mind from thinking about dear Lady—” She looked away under his glare and coughed.
“Did you hear that Lewis’s wife has had the baby?
A little girl; very happy news. I will visit once Miss Bennet is recovered enough to go home.
And once it is settled who will come for Julia, poor thing. ”
He could not hold back an exasperated sigh.
“Julia will not stay a moment longer than necessary!” Mrs Tessier was far too cheerful for his liking. “A week, I suspect, for her family to decide it all.”
His patience was splintering. “She may not have tried to kill anyone, but Miss Metcalfe saw nothing wrong with locking up Elizabeth to more easily seduce me. Do you think she is less dangerous knowing her mother is an attempted murderer?”
“I promise to keep Julia in her own rooms. She will be no bother to anyone. She is melancholy, as you can—”
“She leaves tomorrow,” Darcy snapped. If there was ever a time to order a hostess to throw out one of her guests, was it not now? “I do not care where Miss Metcalfe goes, but she must not stay within one stage of Woodcote Park.”
“I wrote to Lady Metcalfe’s son’s guardian. Hopefully, someone will retrieve Julia and find a lawyer for Lady Metcalfe and…” A growl rumbled in his chest, and she stopped rambling. “You do not need to hear about that. I will take care of it. Julia will be gone tomorrow.”
She hurried away, and Darcy was resigned to a day of solitude and recovery. He did not have the heart right now to think about anything other than Elizabeth.
The day passed slowly and dully, but he had strength for nothing.
His valet said his own carriage had returned, bringing Henry and Jane.
As much as he was desperate to see Elizabeth, he feared disrupting her recovery by reminding her of the attack.
Seeing him so soon after it happened might only make Elizabeth’s condition worse.
He would disobey the surgeon on his own account, but not on hers.
And whilst he was tempted to send for Jane to learn how her sister fared, he chose not to ask to see her either. Jane’s thoughts could only be with Elizabeth. Hopefully, she would find her sister no worse, and the patient’s spirits would be better for having her beloved sister with her.
On Monday, the walls of his room were closing in. The only person he had seen other than his valet was Henry, who came in parting this morning to say he was going to town to see his half-brother’s child.
“I can take a letter to Longbourn, before I go, if you like,” Henry added.
Darcy tilted his head, his eyes narrowed with confusion. “That is not even close to being along your way. And I am sure Miss Bennet sent a rider to inform her family about Miss Elizabeth’s condition today.”
“Of course,” he muttered. “I only wanted to be helpful.” Darcy held his gaze, feeling there was more to the story.
Henry shifted his weight, then relented.
“I do want to be of use to Miss Elizabeth, of course, and it is only an afternoon’s ride.
I just—I thought I might talk to Miss Lydia again if I went to Longbourn. ”
“Miss Lydia?”
“I talked with her a great deal on Saturday night.” Henry turned red.
“They were all distressed, of course, but once the shock and clamour of crying was over, most of the family went to their own rooms to cry or write letters, or prepare to leave, in Miss Bennet’s case.
And I had the chance to sit with Miss Lydia.
She is ever so spirited and pretty. She admired my waistcoat,” he added with a grin.
What a curious development. He would have to bring Lydia to town whilst Henry pursued his law degree. “She is only sixteen, and you have no profession. But,” he added, when Henry turned away, “it is an acquaintance worth keeping whilst you both see what time brings. Give Tessier my best wishes.”
He was too weak to ride, too shattered to write, too weary to read, and there was no one to talk to.
He would take a laborious turn in the sad area outside of ostentatious Woodcote that passed for a garden.
Thank goodness no one was with him, because anyone used to his company would be appalled at his ambling pace.
“Mr Darcy!”
Jane Bennet came running up to him, breathless, but holding out her hand and smiling. It was her smile that made him not afraid she came bearing terrible news. “I am glad we are to be brother and sister,” she said after greeting him.
“I sincerely congratulate you on your own joyous news. No person rejoices more fervently in it than I.”
She reddened. “I sent for you after Lizzy fell asleep, but your man said you had walked out in defiance of the surgeon’s orders. You are like Lizzy in that way. She has grown tired of being confined to her bed, but she does not yet have the strength to defy anyone.”
“Can I do anything for you, Miss Bennet?” Perhaps she needed him to send for a physician from town, or to go to Longbourn with a message for her mother.
“Jane, if you please,” she corrected. “Lizzy is so dear to me, and Bingley speaks highly of you, so I hope we will be friends. I wanted to ask how you are? Mr Tessier said you were poisoned—”
“I would rather hear how Elizabeth is.”
She did not seem insulted by his abruptness, given her compassionate gaze. “She says the pressure in her head has lessened. The light still bothers her, but she does not have as much trouble concentrating now. She tires easily, however, and is not ready to read herself yet.”
“But she has moments of lucidity?”
“Oh, yes! The intervals of sense and consciousness are much stronger this afternoon than they were even this morning. I do not have to repeat myself as often. But you must tell me how you are,” she pressed.
“Lizzy does not remember much about Saturday’s attack, but she knows you were ill, and she remembers my telling her that you were poisoned. ”
“I am well enough.”