Chapter 3
Pemberley
“FIRE! Fire!” Fitzwilliam Darcy was confused. Someone was shaking him and shouting. When he opened his eyes, his valet was rushing about his chamber. “Wake up, sir, the house is ablaze. Here are your breeches and boots. We must leave immediately!”
Smoke was filling his room while he attempted to dress in a rush, tangling himself in his clothing in the process. “Has a bucket line been established? What is to be done?”
Kenton assisted him with his boots. “Yes, but I am afraid it is too late. The fire is too widespread, and I fear Pemberley will be lost. Pray come without delay, while we have a chance to escape.”
“Thank G-d my sister is at Oakmont Hall. Where are the servants?”
“They have quit the house, sir, and Mrs. Reynolds is making certain no one has been left behind in the servants’ quarters.”
The two men hurried down the grand staircase. Darcy hesitated when they reached the ground floor. “Kenton, go outside and see what can be done to put the fire out. I shall see if Mrs. Reynolds needs help and shall join you as soon as possible.”
“I shall go with you and we can both help.”
“No, leave now!” Darcy demanded.
“Yes, sir. Pray take care.” The valet quit the manor house through the open front door.
The sizzling sounds of the flames destroying the structure and the smell of smoke were overwhelming as the blaze greedily consumed his home.
The muscles of his shoulders tightened and at first, his legs refused to move.
Curses came to his head. This was the devil’s work!
A fire of this size was unprecedented! Despite the intense heat, Darcy made haste and turned right towards the servants’ quarters.
Without warning, a burning joist dropped from the ceiling.
Before he had a chance to move out of the way, he was pinned to the floor.
The fiery beam had a crushing weight. He struggled to lift the scorching timber, but the heat and bulk were too much for him.
The searing pain that began to penetrate his face and leg was near unbearable—how could he survive such agony?
Yet despite his efforts, he could not save himself.
Darcy closed his eyes. He had to accept the fact that he was near the end of his life.
At least he would see his beloved parents again.
* * *
July 1811
Lambton
As she stood before Mrs. Hopkins’s small, well-kept home, Elizabeth took a deep breath.
The front porch was covered in flowering vines.
The sight of the many buds ready to open helped her relax, and she exhaled.
Would she be happy with her new life in Lambton?
Upon her knock on the door, Elizabeth was greeted by a smiling woman who appeared to be much older than her aunt.
“I have been expecting you, Miss Bennet. Please come in, and I shall call for tea.”
“Thank you, madam. I appreciate your kind hospitality.” The welcome was all she could hope for. “A man from the inn will bring my trunk soon.”
“Let me see to the refreshments, and then we can chat.”
Elizabeth perused the sitting room. The furniture was covered in lovely floral patterns. Since she believed in first impressions, the view before her was satisfying: she would be comfortable living in this house.
When her hostess returned, Elizabeth turned to her. “My aunt has spoken highly of you ever since I can remember. She has often told me of her fond memories of living in Derbyshire.”
“Madeline Foster and I were not only relatives but the closest of friends, and my heart was broken when her father decided to sell his shop and move to London. Happily, we have kept up a steady correspondence since. In fact, she and your uncle travelled here when my son married five years ago.”
“I recall her speaking of the wedding. Does your son live nearby?”
“I wish it were so, but after my Robert completed his law studies, he and his wife settled near her family in Leicester. They used to visit me more often, but now they have two small children, and his practice keeps him busy. They left here a few days ago after their annual visit, so your arrival was well timed.”
“If I am still in Derbyshire next spring, I would be delighted to meet them.”
“Robert has met your relatives on many occasions. I am certain he would enjoy an introduction to their niece.”
“My aunt mentioned you also have a daughter.”
“Yes, my dear Amelia. Eight years ago, she married a local man, but soon after the wedding, her husband was offered an excellent job in Yorkshire. She has two sweet children, but now she is a widow. Sadly, her husband succumbed to a fever several months ago. I begged her to come live with me, but she said she is not ready to leave the home she shared with him.”
“I am grieved to hear of your loss.” Elizabeth paused before she continued.
“Has my aunt written to tell you why I am here?” Her hostess nodded.
“I am relieved it is not necessary for me to repeat the recent misfortunes which have befallen my family. My aunt Gardiner suggested I look for work in the village or at a nearby estate called Pemberley, which she said employs many people.”
“I fear you will not find any employment at that estate. Pemberley has suffered such a tragedy: completely destroyed by a terrible fire not two weeks ago. I heard the master of the estate sustained grave injuries attempting to ensure everyone escaped from the house. He now lies near death at the Rose and Crown. Perhaps you can find something here in the village or at one of the other nearby estates.”
“I cannot thank you enough for taking me in. Since you are aware of my situation, I hope you will be able to help me find a position.”
“Yes, my dear, I shall try. Madeline told me the whole of your circumstances, and I daresay your father, bless his soul, should have done more to provide for your family.”
Elizabeth bobbed her head. She could not agree more.
* * *
The Rose and Crown Inn
Ten days after the fire
As if waking from a deep sleep, Darcy became aware of his surroundings. Doors were opening and closing, and people spoke in hushed voices. As he slowly gained consciousness, the throbbing in his head became unbearable. Could he move? No, it was too painful, and he groaned. A man rushed to his side.
“Mr. Darcy, can you hear me? It is Mr. Pauling from London. How do you feel?”
His physician was here? “Pauling,” Darcy mumbled. “What are you doing in Derbyshire?”
“You were seriously injured by the fire at Pemberley. Do you remember being trapped beneath a burning beam?” A burning what? His response was a mere moan. “Your valet and footmen were outside when they heard the crash and rushed in to lift the timber from you and bring you to safety.”
“I have a terrific headache.” He paused as he became more aware of his discomfort.
“My face feels as if it is on fire.” His eyes were fully open and he stared at his body.
“Why are my hands and leg bandaged?” He attempted to sit, but cried out in agony and fell back onto his pillows. “Why do I have so much pain?”
“Your head hurts because it was hit by the falling beam, but that will clear up in time. The embers from the timber have scorched the side of your face and there are minor burns on your arms and hands. Your leg took most of the weight of the falling timber. The bones were not broken, but the burning wood caused significant damage to your thigh muscles. Your upper leg is splinted and wrapped so it can heal properly. There is a poultice on your face which will help the burns heal and I hope, prevent them from becoming infected.”
“It hurts to talk.”
“You inhaled a great deal of smoke before you were rescued but that, too, will improve in time.”
“Anything else? I am scarred for life, cannot walk, and can barely speak. You should have let me die!” His raspy and weak voice was still overheard by everyone in the room.
Mrs. Reynolds rushed to his side with tears in her eyes. “Pray do not say that, sir. We are all here to help you, and you will get well and walk again. We are all so grateful no one perished in the fire.”
“I am tired and wish to sleep.” He raised his voice as much as he was able and added, “Leave me alone, all of you.”
* * *
When he next awakened, his steward was speaking to Mrs. Reynolds in a soft voice.
Darcy asked, “Bethel, how is Pemberley? Were you able to put out the fire?”
“The servants and tenants filled bucket after bucket from the lake but to no avail; the fire was too extensive. Sir, most of the manor house was destroyed. The flames spread quickly from the house and destroyed many of the crops and orchards. The livestock are alive because they ran from the flames. Thanks to the direction of the wind, the stables were not touched, and none of the horses or carriages were damaged.”
“That is all I need to know.”
The thought of everything he once held dear being gone was more than he could bear. He closed his eyes and prayed he was having a nightmare.
Over the following two weeks, less and less laudanum was required to ease Darcy’s pain. His arms and hands healed sufficiently for a few of the bandages to be removed.
“Do you feel well enough to deal with your pain without medication?” asked Mr. Pauling. He dipped his chin, and the physician smiled. “I am pleased your recovery is progressing faster than I had expected.”
Later that day, Georgiana came to his chambers while he rested.
“Come in. Mr. Darcy is recovering well, and Mr. Pauling has just returned to examine him,” said Mrs. Reynolds.
He was in no mood to console his sister but had no choice but to see her. Darcy was burnt and bandaged, and his sister began to cry as she rushed to his side.
“I am so relieved to see you. I have been so alarmed.”
“Miss Darcy, I was about to remove the poultice from your brother’s face. Pray wait with Mrs. Reynolds,” the physician said.
Georgiana squeezed Darcy’s hand and walked to the other side of the room. Although he loved her, he was relieved she was no longer nearby.