CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE A Scar
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
A Scar
The first time Elizabeth saw the full scar on Darcy's leg was an accident.
Dr. Morrison had come for what he announced would be his final regular examination before the wedding.
Darcy was at Longbourn because Mrs. Bennet had insisted the physician take luncheon after his visit.
Elizabeth passed the open guest-room door carrying fresh towels Hill had given her.
Darcy sat on the edge of the bed with his trouser leg rolled above the knee.
Dr. Morrison was unwrapping a light support bandage.
Elizabeth stopped.
The scar was ugly. There was no gentler word.
A jagged line ran along the outside of his lower leg where the bone had broken through and the physicians had enlarged the wound to clean and stitch it.
Smaller marks showed where swelling and infection had damaged the skin.
Elizabeth had seen blood that first day.
She had seen bandages for months. She had never seen what remained beneath them.
Darcy noticed her.
His face changed. Elizabeth immediately looked away. "Forgive me." She continued down the passage. An hour later he found her in the small parlour. She was alone, pretending to read.
"Elizabeth."
She closed the book.
"I did not mean to intrude."
"I know."
He stood near the door. For once he seemed uncertain how to approach her.
"It is not as bad as it appears."
Elizabeth looked at him.
"That is a ridiculous sentence."
Darcy almost smiled. She set the book aside.
"Does it hurt?"
"Sometimes."
"How often?"
He hesitated.
"Fitzwilliam."
"Most mornings. After too much walking. In damp weather."
Elizabeth stared.
"You say nothing."
"There is nothing to say."
"There is pain."
"Which passes."
"You are impossible."
"So I have been told."
She stood. Her eyes had filled unexpectedly.
Darcy's expression changed. "Do not cry."
"Do not order me."
"I did not mean—"
"I know."
Elizabeth looked away, angry with herself.
"When I found you, I thought you were dead."
Darcy went very still.
"For perhaps two seconds. You were not moving. Your leg looked..." She stopped. "Then you opened your eyes and began saying absurd things, and there was no time to be frightened properly."
He came closer.
"Elizabeth."
"I have spent three months teasing you about the proposal because it made the memory ridiculous instead of terrible."
Darcy's face softened with pain entirely unrelated to his leg.
"I did not know."
"Neither did I. Not exactly."
She laughed shakily. "It seems Jane is not the only Bennet who hides feelings behind a convenient expression."
Darcy stood before her.
"May I hold you?"
Elizabeth nodded. He put his arms around her. She pressed her face against his chest. For a while neither spoke. His heart beat beneath her cheek.
Alive.
Steady. Darcy rested his chin lightly against her hair.
"I am sorry."
Elizabeth drew back. "For falling from a horse?"
"For frightening you."
"You cannot apologize for an accident."
"Your mother has ordered me never to repeat it."
Elizabeth laughed against his coat.
"She has."
Darcy touched her cheek.
"The scar will fade some. Morrison says not entirely."
Elizabeth looked at him.
"Good."
His brows rose.
"Good?"
"I do not want you hurt. But if the scar remains, perhaps it will remind you not to take shortcuts merely to avoid Miss Bingley."
Darcy stared.
Then he laughed. The sound broke the last of her tears.
"That," he said, "is the lesson you have chosen?"
"Among several."
"And the others?"
Elizabeth smiled.
"Foxes are dangerous."
"Obviously."
"Farm wagons are uncomfortable."
"Extremely."
"And proposals should be made while conscious."
Darcy's hand slid gently to the back of her neck.
"That one I shall never need again."
Her smile softened.
"No," she said. "You shall not."