Chapter 10
The night of Mr Bennet’s accident was a whirl of fright and despair, then joy, gratitude, and relief.
By the morning, Elizabeth had not slept for a single moment.
Mr Bennet was still feverish and had not spoken more than a few short sentences.
But he was conscious, and his state seemed far from the danger of death.
Yet, Mr Jones remained sceptical and recommended prudence and rest, waiting anxiously for the arrival of Dr Crawford, as if he wished to pass the responsibility on to stronger shoulders.
Elizabeth did not attend breakfast either until she was called downstairs as her mother had arrived.
She hurried down to find not only Mrs Bennet but also Jane and Mary.
They were in the drawing-room with the Bingleys, the Hursts, Mr Collins, and Mr Jones.
Only an instant was needed for Elizabeth to notice how spiteful Mr Bingley’s sisters remarks were, and she could only assume how much they despised the entire situation.
Her mother was crying and whining about the tragedy that had struck them and demanded to see her dying husband.
“Mama, please calm yourself,” Elizabeth said decidedly. “Papa has recovered. I am sure Mr Bingley has told you so already. But he is still in danger and cannot be disturbed. Mr Jones has insisted upon it.”
“I certainly have, ma’am,” the apothecary replied. “He has a high fever, which is no wonder considering how long he was out in this freezing weather.”
“Mr Collins, how could you leave him there?” Mrs Bennet whined. “I know you want him dead, but abandoning him in the wilderness is outrageous! And you are a clergyman, for Heaven’s sake!”
Mr Collins turned red, then pale, then stood up from his chair, sputtering as he considered the offence.
“My dear madam, I assure you such accusations are as unfair as they are untrue! How can you even voice them? I am truly appalled, as I have suffered as much as Mr Bennet! I searched for help until I found it!”
“Mama, we are all tired and hurt. Let us not throw around the blame for this unfortunate accident,” Jane suggested gently, holding her mother’s arm.
“Would you like a cup of tea, perhaps?” Mr Bingley suggested.
“No, I only want to see my husband!”
Elizabeth felt lost as to how to convince her mother to see reason, and she glanced at Mr Jones. However, it was Mr Darcy who spoke first.
“Mr Jones, I was wondering…would it be possible if Mrs Bennet and the Miss Bennets could see Mr Bennet from afar? By perhaps just taking a few steps into the room?”
“That would be acceptable,” Mr Jones said. “But I strongly advise that only Miss Lizzy sit with him while he recovers. That is my opinion, at least until Dr Crawford arrives.”
“Dr Crawford?”
“Yes, Mama,” Elizabeth answered. “He is Mr Darcy’s physician from London. Mr Darcy has sent for him to take care of Papa.”
The news had a soothing effect upon Mrs Bennet, and she finally calmed herself enough to have a cup of tea.
Afterwards, the Bennet ladies were all escorted to see Mr Bennet.
Despite Mr Jones’s warning. Mrs Bennet could not stop her crying, awakening Mr Bennet, who was able to exchange a few words with them.
The ladies left an hour later, still reluctant, accompanied by Mr Bingley, who escorted them back to Longbourn.
This time, Mr Collins returned with them, as he had to make plans to return to Kent.
Around noon, Elizabeth was reading near her father’s bed.
Jane had brought her two clean dresses and a nightgown, but she was too tired to change.
She could barely keep her eyes open, and the book made no sense to her.
Mr Bennet was still feverish and sleeping most of the time, and she still feared his state might take a turn for the worse.
She did not know how things would progress, if her father would continue to recover, or if and when they would be able to move him back to Longbourn. With nervousness, she waited for Dr Crawford’s arrival, hoping he would provide them with some clarification and more hope.
The maid’s entrance interrupted Elizabeth’s thoughts; she handed Elizabeth a note, which she took with surprise.
While reading it, the surprise turned into astonishment.
She knew the note was from Mr Darcy even before she saw the signature, and a new sort of emotion — which she could hardly acknowledge or accept in those trying times — enveloped her.
Miss Elizabeth,
I deeply apologise if you find this note presumptuous and arrogant, but I hope you know I was thinking of you and your well-being.
I cannot imagine how tired you must be, but I can understand — and admire — your desire to be near your father.
Since it is likely Mr Bennet will stay at Netherfield for a few more days and you need some rest and comfort, I have removed my belongings from my present room, and it has been cleaned and prepared for you.
The maid who brings you this note will help you to move.
Please know that I informed Bingley of my proposal, and he readily agreed to it. I am well aware it is not my duty to make such decisions on your behalf, and my only excuse is my genuine concern for you.
F Darcy
She put the note down, looking at it in disbelief. There were plenty of rooms at Netherfield, and Mr Bingley would have given her any of them. But Mr Darcy had offered his room because it was the most convenient for her.
As much as she refused to admit it — or, better said, was afraid to admit it — there could be no other explanation: Mr Darcy’s attentions towards her were no different from Mr Bingley’s towards Jane.
And — another thrilling admittance — she was as happy to receive them as was Jane, despite the dreadful circumstances that had caused them.
In the next half an hour, Elizabeth moved to the next room — Mr Darcy’s room — and with the help of the maid, she washed and changed her clothes.
Only then did she realise how ill she looked.
Her feelings on the previous night compared with the present afternoon were utterly different — both in regard to her father and to Mr Darcy.
She lay down on the bed for a little while to make herself feel better.
The sentiments that enveloped her knowing she was lying in the bed where he had slept only hours before were overwhelming.
Despite all the sheets and pillows being changed, she had the strange and disturbing sensation that she could sense his scent and his warmth.
Before dinner, just as Mr Darcy had predicted, a carriage stopped in front of Netherfield. Elizabeth hurried downstairs to greet the doctor, who entered hastily, declaring he was extremely tired after the journey and asking to see the patient.
Mr Darcy performed the introductions and explained the situation one more time, including the recent hopeful development.
“I shall go and see Mr Bennet now, then I would appreciate some food and drink,” Dr Crawford said. Elizabeth followed him, but he stopped her with a glance.
“My dear, no woman should be present when a man is examined. Especially not a daughter. I shall only need the presence of Mr Jones and a male servant. We shall discuss the matter at length later.”
Elizabeth had no chance to oppose him, so she remained in the hall, wondering what to do.
“Miss Bennet, please join us while we are waiting,” she heard Mr Bingley call. She hesitated, then took his offered arm and entered the dining-room, to face Miss Bingley’s and Mrs Hurst’s displeased countenances. Mr Hurst and Mr Darcy were both enjoying their drinks.
Elizabeth sat and accepted a cup of tea.
“Miss Elizabeth, I wish to tell you that your youngest sisters have returned to Longbourn,” Mr Bingley said.
“But where have they been?” Miss Bingley asked.
“They spent the night at my aunt’s house, in Meryton,” Elizabeth explained.
“How old is your youngest sister? Is she not too young to leave the house unattended?”
“She is fifteen. And yes, she is a little too young, but we are among friends here.”
“Well, perhaps, but there is a whole regiment in Meryton now. The soldiers may be a danger for young women,” Mrs Hurst added.
“I thank you for your concern. Since they have arrived home safely, I have other things to worry about now,” Elizabeth said.
“Speaking of the officers, Charles, what will you do about the dinner party?” Miss Bingley asked. “It should be in four days’ time! I hope you will cancel it. There is already enough upheaval in this house.”
The offence was clear, but Elizabeth chose to overlook it. She exchanged a glance with Mr Darcy, then looked at Mr Bingley.
“Not yet,” he replied, slightly uneasy. “Last night I was determined to cancel it, but I have not had the opportunity to send out notes yet. I discussed it with Miss Bennet today…Miss Jane Bennet…and I shall wait for the result of Dr Crawford’s examination. It depends on Mr Bennet’s health.”
“I cannot understand you, Charles. You are mumbling. I hope you will make the decision on your own, based on what is best for you!”
“That is precisely what I am doing, Caroline. By the way, if you intend to return to London next week, you should make the arrangements for the three of you. I shall not be leaving Netherfield soon, and Darcy will delay his departure too.”
The two sisters gazed at him, then at each other, with apparent yet repressed anger. They were obviously refraining from replying in the presence of Elizabeth. She did not care about the sisters, though. The news that Mr Darcy had intended to leave but had now changed his plans added to her unease.
“Miss Elizabeth, I hope you had the chance to rest a little,” Mr Darcy said.
She felt her cheeks heating.
“I did, sir. I must thank you for your kindness and consideration.”
“What do you mean?” Miss Bingley asked.
Elizabeth took a deep breath. She knew she should mind her words; she knew she should not upset the sisters even more, but she could not help herself.
“Mr Darcy allowed me to sleep in his room,” she replied.
Miss Bingley appeared to have forgotten to breathe, and Mrs Hurst choked on her tea. The expression on their faces was amusing, and Elizabeth enjoyed it for a moment, looking at Mr Darcy out of the corner of her eye.
“Of course,” she continued, “Mr Darcy has moved into another room. I assumed that was already understood. But the gesture was exceedingly generous, nevertheless, and I am grateful for it.”
“It was my pleasure, Miss Elizabeth. I assure you,” Mr Darcy answered.
Although their dialogue was brief and nothing beyond politeness, Mr Bingley’s sisters seemed incapable of recovering.
Fortunately, Dr Crawford appeared and ended any other conversation, as Elizabeth hurried to him.
“My dear, there is not much I can say yet, besides the fact that he has a cold, which is quite serious. The injury that was caused by the fall is on his head, and this is always something of deep concern. However, he appears to be reasonably conscious. He can speak coherently enough.”
“But sir, have you seen such cases before?” Elizabeth asked.
“Too many to count. I shall warn you that some of the cases healed completely, others caused damage or even death. We should wait till tomorrow and examine him again. I have sent a servant to prepare him some medicine, and we shall keep him under observation. Darcy, is there a room for me? I would like to change.”
“Of course,” Mr Bingley replied animatedly. “You will be shown to your room, and we shall wait for you before we serve dinner.”
“Dr Crawford, may I go to my father now?”
“You may, but only for a little while. I must say I am worried about you too, miss. I heard from Mr Jones you did not sleep at all last night. Tonight, two servants will watch Mr Bennet, and you will rest.”
“But sir—”
“My dear, do not try to argue with me, as you will fail. Darcy may testify to that,” the doctor concluded.
Elizabeth spent some time with Mr Bennet; she refused dinner, but she acquiesced to the doctor’s orders and withdrew to her room. Mr Darcy’s room. She climbed into bed without even changing her clothes and fell into a deep sleep, which was much needed and quite healing.