Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Despite Jane’s apprehension, Elizabeth was recovering apace four days after the attack.
She could sit up without pain, walk to where Jane slept in the adjacent dressing room, and had even begun to read a little.
Her confusion was gone, although so too were her memories of Saturday’s attack.
She had flashes of being in the horse rug, of sitting next to Darcy in the cart, and of the clamour of the Epsom crowd.
But it was as though her mind had drawn a shade over that day.
However, her balance returned, the light no longer strained her, and her head did not constantly ache. She was significantly improved as far as she was concerned. And yet both the surgeon and Jane would allow her no visitors. Jane even scolded her whenever she rose from the bed.
“Your body needs rest, and so does your mind,” Jane insisted yesterday when Elizabeth suggested she go down to breakfast with her.
She could admit, at least to herself, that she had needed the quiet of the past few days.
She enjoyed moments for reflection, but she had seen no one but Jane and the surgeon since Sunday.
All of Mrs Tessier’s guests had left, and Henry had gone to his brother’s in town.
Someone had also removed Julia Metcalfe, which eased her mind.
Only Darcy remained at Woodcote—and he had not asked to see her.
Ever since Jane told her that Henry said Darcy had drunk arsenic meant for her, she had agonised over him.
At least, she had worried when she remembered that he had been poisoned.
Jane had to repeat herself several times throughout Sunday and Monday, as she often forgot things.
But Darcy being poisoned was certainly, distressingly committed to memory now.
“How is Darcy?” she asked in a rush when Jane returned from the dining room Wednesday evening.
“He offered his kind remembrance and wishes for your good health.”
“Is he as well as he was this morning? Is he now eating more?”
Jane smiled. “Do you really want to know what he ate?” Her emphatic stare answered, and Jane said, “He ate mostly soup, and dessert, and he refused all wine, but he had much more energy. He was better than he seemed even this morning. And he is as worried about you as you are about him. He is recovering, but he is equally distressed at not being allowed to see you.”
Jane said when she had first seen him on Monday, Darcy looked like he had been ill for weeks rather than days.
He had moved slowly—although his mind was clear—and he was frustrated by his own fatigue.
It was a feeling she sympathised with. But far more frustrating was that her betrothed had not asked for an interview.
“If he is that distressed about my health, he could ask to see me, or just knock on the door.” Darcy was not the sort of person to let “not being allowed” keep him from something he wanted or thought was right. And it was not as though he had not come to her room before.
Her sister sat on her bed, taking both of her hands in hers.
“I have talked with Darcy whenever I am not tending to you. He is reserved about stating his feelings for you, but it is clear he adores you. And he is fearful to set back your recovery. The surgeon said no visitors, no disruptions, no anxiety, so he stays away. It is what is best for you, not what he wants.”
“How unfortunate I am marrying such a selfless, honourable man.”
Jane shook her head at her, but smiled.
“I will have to go find him myself.”
Jane gasped. “Absolutely not, Lizzy! You are to stay in bed until at least Saturday. Then we can discuss sitting up for long enough to have a brief interview with Darcy—if the surgeon approves.”
“But I approve.” She huffed. “Clearly, the vessels in my brain have withstood the concussion. And my insensibility has passed.”
“You must be kept easy.”
“Seeing Darcy would keep me easy. I am more troubled at not being allowed to talk with him than by any weakness or pain in my head. And I want to know what happened. No one will tell me!” Jane hushed her and she blew out a breath.
“I remember nothing for certain from the time I said goodnight to Darcy on Friday and when the surgeon saw me on Saturday.”
“You were the victim of terrible violence, Lizzy. You might not want to remember.”
“I need to know!” In a calmer voice, she added, “You cannot deny that I am far and away better than I was when you first arrived. I can handle seeing Darcy and talking about it.”
“No, you need physical and mental rest.” Jane’s tone was unyielding.
“Please let me take care of you. You do not know how frightened we were to hear you had been attacked. My father turned white with fear, my mother took to her bed, and we were all in tears. We were desperate to make certain you were well.”
Her indignation fell away, and she hugged Jane. “All I need to recover is you.”
“That is why I was the one from Longbourn to make the journey. Mr Henry Tessier kept his wits about him and suggested it when we were all in a panic and did not know who should do what.”
Her family loved her, but her other sisters would soon think of their own concerns rather than tend to her.
They would all find it tedious after a few hours, let alone days.
Her father was a laconic man and would not come now that he knew all she needed was rest. And her mother would be much too nervous to be of use.
She would only pester Darcy about the wedding.
But as much as she loved Jane, she needed Darcy too.
Jane would never agree to send for him, so Elizabeth asked her about Bingley’s return, and she answered Jane about how she fell in love with Darcy—everything except what happened in Hunsford.
“Do you remember that I told you Darcy apologised for separating us?” Jane asked. “He regrets it very much; he worries about it more than Bingley and I do. And he is more open and amiable than I remember him being in Meryton.”
“He is a good-hearted man, after all. You always had a value for him, and you are gracious not to tell me you told me so.”
“And now, as Bingley’s friend and your husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself dearer to me than him.”
“I must confess that I love Darcy better than I do Bingley. I am afraid you will be angry.”
“You must be improving if you can be so teasing. I am going down to coffee. I can at least spare Darcy from Mrs Tessier. She is a sweet woman, but a very determined talker.”
“Please give him my best wishes that he is restored to health and thank him for his kind regards for my own.”
Jane promised and left, and Elizabeth thought it all ridiculous.
She was perfectly well enough to talk to the person who meant so much to her.
If she talked with Jane, how could her sister not see that she could also talk with Darcy?
She could sit up without pain and concentrate on serious topics.
Whilst she could not remember much of Saturday, she had made new memories since then.
There was no reason not to see him. If Darcy was reluctant to ask for an interview and if Jane would not bring him, then she would find him herself.
It was not as though she wanted to spend a day in a rattling carriage or run through a race meeting crowd. She wanted to sit with the person she loved best.
Her opportunity came after Jane retired for the evening.
She did not enjoy walking through the corridors in her dressing gown in the dark, but dressing would have woken Jane and it was easier to creep along without a candle.
She made it to his door with no trouble, but faltered with her hand poised to knock.
Everything about this was inappropriate, but seeing Darcy surpassed all of that.
She wished she could confidently rap on the door, but managed a few quiet taps with her fingertips.
It was silent, and since she could not be certain if he had gone to sleep or did not hear, she forced herself to tap a little harder.
The door opened slowly, and Darcy’s suspicious expression brightened to delighted surprise. “Elizabeth.” She smiled back before alarm flooded his features. “What is the matter? Do you need me to ride for the surgeon?”
“No,” she cried. “I wanted to see you.”
He exhaled in relief. “You must return to bed. In a few days, after the surgeon says you can be up and—”
“I am not leaving until I have spoken with you.” Jane was right; he was worried for her. “I have not seen you since Friday. I am not counting Saturday since I apparently saw you, but I scarcely remember it.”
He did not appreciate her joke, and she remembered what Jane had said about when her family had heard the news.
It must have been all the worse for Darcy to actually have seen her in such a state and be a witness to the violence against her.
She squeezed his arm gently as she pleaded, “Do not send me away. I have missed you, and I have been concerned about you. If you cannot say the same about me, I will return to my room instantly.”
He knew what she was doing, but he stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. “I have wanted to ask to see you,” he said, closing the door, “but everyone advised against it. And I care too deeply about your health to risk a setback.”
“If I can handle talking to Jane, how can I not handle talking with you?”
Pain crossed his eyes. “Perhaps it is too soon for any reminder of what passed.”
“That is partly why I am here,” she entreated. “I cannot recollect anything from Saturday and not knowing is more troubling.”
“I understand that, but you ought to rest in bed until the surgeon allows you to get up.”