Unforgiving Temper (65 page)

“Far be it from me to dispute the importance
of an injured foot over that of a bullet wound; but I am certain
that Mr. Darcy's injuries were far from trivial. Indeed, what
is a little chaos and confusion in our kitchen when the man risked
life and limb to save our Lizzy?”

Still standing in the hallway, Elizabeth
smiled warmly at her father's words. Although the physical effects
of his devastating stroke were still marked by a severe limp and a
slight paralysis of his right side, his speech was recovered enough
to dispense his characteristic wit. For the most part, he was
himself once again. Pushing open the door, she answered him with
great affection in her voice.

“Indeed, Father, Mr. Darcy risked a
great deal yesterday and we owe him much!”

Her mother's peevish glare was not
unexpected. “Well, Elizabeth! Look at you all dressed up in your
best blue dress and your hair done up. I cannot imagine why you
would trouble yourself after yesterday. Jane's wedding day was
completely ruined and the gossip is starting all over again – just
when people were beginning to forget. You do your sisters a great
injustice, you know.”

Elizabeth blushed slightly as she took a seat
next to her father. “I simply had a new dress and wanted to wear
it. I see no harm in that.”

Mr. Bennet gazed closely at Elizabeth
and she smiled warmly, hoping her efforts to appear calm and
collected were enough to hide her real discomfort from his probing
eyes. He had suffered enough and she was determined not to excite
him before anything was certain.

“You are looking very pretty this morning,
Lizzy,” he said at last. “I had thought you would be a little worse
for the wear after all that has happened. But you are quite right
about Mr. Darcy; we owe him a very great deal for you and your
sister's safe return.”

“Even so,” Mrs. Bennet grumbled from the
other end of the table, “he is a proud man. I venture to say he
will expect a very great deal in the way of showing our
appreciation; although I cannot think what we should do that will
satisfy him.”

“Well, I am confident we can find something
that will satisfy even the likes of Mr. Darcy,”
Mr. Bennet replied dryly before turning back to Elizabeth.
“How is your foot? Does it give you much trouble?”

“It is tolerable, sir, I thank you. Mr. Jones
left a salve that has done wonders. If I am careful when I step, it
is hardly noticeable.”

“Still, you should be a little more
sensible,” replied Mrs. Bennet stiffly. “In my day, a young
lady who had suffered such a distressing ordeal would have the good
sense to stay in bed a day or two at the very least! To show such
resilience and fortitude is not flattering to your femininity, my
dear. Young men are not looking for an equal. They are looking for
a young lady of gentle breeding.”

Elizabeth exchanged a patient look with her
father before turning to her mother. “I thank you for the concern,
Mama; heaven knows I have been sorely lacking in that quarter of
late; however, I refuse to submit to hours of boredom in my room
simply for the sake of appearing frail and helpless – which I am
not. I am sorry to disappoint you, but it cannot be helped.”
Elizabeth gave her mother a solicitous grin. “The day promises to
be beautiful and it would seem a shame to waste it in gloomy
solitude. Do you not think so, Father?”

“I suppose so, Lizzy.” Mr. Bennet looked
again to his daughter, his interest suddenly deepening. “You seem
uncommonly pleased with everything and everyone this morning. Would
you care to illuminate us as to the reason for this unusually
benevolent humor?”

Trying to moderate her excitement at the
expected outcome of Darcy's visit, Elizabeth only smiled. “Well,
sir, I cannot say at present, but I am expecting a visitor very
soon and I believe I may be at liberty to explain myself in a
little while.”

“Is that so?” Mr. Bennet pursed his lips
thoughtfully. “May I ask who is the visitor?”

Mrs. Hill entered at that moment, bearing a
tray with a letter on it. Stopping at Elizabeth's side, she offered
the note which was addressed in Jane's delicate hand. Elizabeth
took up the letter and broke the seal. She scanned the words
quickly at first, expecting a tender expression of sisterly concern
for her ordeal. Jane had always been the worrier, trying to make
everyone comfortable and happy. But as Elizabeth read on, her mind
began to comprehend that the words written were not concern for her
own welfare, but Darcy's! She stared at the letter in dismay.
It
cannot be true! It cannot!

“Lizzy?! What is it? What has happened?”

She heard her father's voice, calling to her
from what seemed a great distance but could not answer. Frozen by
the shock that ripped through her, she could not move. She felt the
letter slide from her hand as her father took it and read the awful
words for himself. She was grateful that he did not read them
aloud. It would be too much to hear them spoken.

“What is it, Mr. Bennet? I must know
what is going on!”

The sound of her mother's hasty rise finally
spurred Elizabeth to action. To have her mother dissect every word
and its meaning was unthinkable. Snatching the letter back from her
father, Elizabeth folded it into her lap and out of
Mrs. Bennet's reach. Jane's frightful words begging her to
come to Netherfield at once brought her to her feet. There was not
a moment to lose!

“Father, I must go at once.”

“Go? Where?” Mrs. Bennet cried, staring
in astonishment at Elizabeth's near panic.

His wife's pressing inquiries fell on deaf
ears. Mr. Bennet was staring at his daughter. “Do you think it
wise, Lizzy? You yourself are not completely well – as much as you
would like me to think you are. Perhaps we can send Mary or Kitty
if Jane is in need of help.”

“No, Father! I must go!” Elizabeth gripped
the back of her chair to support herself. “I do not need the
carriage. It will take too long in any case. May I take Nell
instead? John can have her saddled in a few minutes.”

“I really think it best you wait another day
– regain some of your strength before you expose yourself.”

“I cannot wait another day or another hour!
If need be, I shall walk. It is but three miles.”

“Walk?!” Mrs. Bennet cried out. “Three
miles? Mr. Bennet, I demand to know what is going on this
minute!”

“As you see, Lizzy is quite determined to go
to Netherfield. Our dear Jane has her hands quite full her very
first day as mistress – Mr. Darcy has taken a turn for the
worse.”

Elizabeth urged Nell up the drive to
Netherfield's front door, her mind racing frantically at the
possibilities of what she would find there. This morning's venture
was the antithesis of her previous day's ride back to Longbourn
nestled in Darcy's arms.

The feel of his kiss still lingering on her
lips, she would have been content to stay that way forever. Once
they had reached home, however, everything quickly escalated into a
flurry of frenzied activity. She had been handed down and whisked
away by her mother and Hill. Her last view of Mr. Darcy had
been of him sitting atop his horse following her departure with a
tender, concerned smile. It was not until much later that she
learned Mr. Darcy had fallen unconscious from his horse and
had to be carried into the house. The extent of his injuries had
been a surprise, but Mr. Jones had given every expectation that
Darcy would mend quickly. There was no thought that he had been
mortally wounded.

Reaching Netherfield's steps, Elizabeth's
mind was brought back to the present. She hurriedly dismounted and
handed the reins to the waiting footman. Rushing to the door, she
lifted the heavy knocker twice in succession and then waited
impatiently for Wilson to open the door.

“Miss Bennet, Mrs. Bingley is expecting
you,” the butler greeted her kindly.

Before Elizabeth could reply, a familiar
voice sounded from somewhere behind him.

“My dear Eliza! I shall call you that now for
we are sisters, are we not?” Caroline Bingley's honeyed words
grated on Elizabeth. “And as your new sister, I must tell you that
you are not looking well at all. You should be home resting after
your terrible ordeal. I see that you have come on horseback.
Wilson, do have the carriage brought round so that Miss Bennet
can have a comfortable ride home.”

“Please do not, Wilson. I am not
leaving.”

“But my dear, there is no need to exert
yourself so. There will be sufficient opportunity for visits once
you are fully recovered. I would be happy to let Charles and Jane
know you called.”

“This is not a social call,
Miss Bingley. Jane has sent for me and I will see her. Wilson,
please let the mistress of the house know that I am here.”

Caroline's façade slipped a little as the
butler turned away. “Really, I see no need for your help. She has
me, after all. What can you do that I cannot?”

Without answering, Elizabeth removed her coat
and handed it to the footman along with her bonnet and gloves. Her
silence only fanned the flames of Caroline's resentment. When the
footman had gone, she turned on Elizabeth.

“Just because he saved you from Wickham does
not mean you can lay claim on him. Once he is well again, he will
return to his own world. Something you know nothing of! If you
truly want what is best for him, you would not –”

“Lizzy!” Jane's relieved cry cut off the rest
of Caroline's words, but Elizabeth already knew what they were. She
did not belong in Mr. Darcy's world of wealth and high
society. Her lowly connections would only hold him back. She did
not believe he felt the same; but even if he did, that was
something she would face later. For now, Darcy was dangerously ill
and the only thing she cared about was seeing him well again.

Jane rushed to Elizabeth, embracing her
tightly. “I am so glad you are here at last. Come, let me tell you
everything before I go back.” Pulling Elizabeth toward the sitting
room, Jane looked back to Caroline who was following closely.
“Caroline, would you be so good as to tell Mrs. Middleton that Mr.
Jones needs another basin of cool water and some clean
bandages?”

By the look of astonishment on Caroline's
face, it was evident she had not yet made the change from mistress
of Netherfield to dependent relation and guest. After an awkward
moment of gaping, she snapped her mouth shut and silently marched
off in the direction of the kitchens.

Once they reached the sitting room, Jane sat
close and began relating the disturbing details of Darcy's
condition, making Elizabeth's heart grow heavier with each passing
minute. When Jane was finished, Elizabeth wrapped her arms tightly
around herself trying to contain the panic and helplessness that
was threatening to escape.

“Mr. Jones said that everything was going to
be all right! He gave every assurance that there was nothing to
worry about! This is unforgiveable!”

“He is only an apothecary, Lizzy, not a
doctor or surgeon. You cannot expect him to know everything.”

“But surely he could have done more!”

“He did his best. He has little experience
with gunshot wounds. Mr. Denham has gone to London to fetch
Mr. Darcy's physician. We are hoping they will be back by this
evening. In the meantime, we can only try to keep the fever down
and wait. I sent for you because I thought you would want to be
here in case he…in case things got very bad.”

“May I see him?”

“I do not think it would be prudent, Lizzie;
especially after the way he brought you home yesterday. It would be
impossible to recover your reputation if it were discovered you
were in his room; and I am afraid Caroline would be more than happy
to have that happen.”

“And what if he does not get well enough?
What then? I must see him, Jane! Would you stay away if it were
Charles?”

“No, I would not, knowing how much he loves
me.” Jane's eyes filled with a deep concern. “But are you certain
of Mr. Darcy's affection? There would be no turning back – and
if the worst should happen, you would be left with nothing. You
would have no future.”

“It does not matter! A future without him
would hold nothing for me in any case. I cannot just sit here and
do nothing. Please, Jane, let me be near him.”

Jane sighed with an understanding smile,
unwrapping Elizabeth's arms and taking her hand. “Very well then,
come along. It is time I returned. I told Charles I would not be
long. Perhaps you will be more successful than I in getting the
patient to take his medicine. He is in such a fever that I cannot
get the spoon to his mouth without him thrashing about and spilling
half of it.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath, bracing herself
for what lay ahead. Regardless of the outcome, she would not, could
not turn back now. “I shall do my best.”

* * * *

Benjamin Lawrence listened to his patient's
even breathing and felt the cool brow with a sigh of relief. After
two long days, the rampant fever had finally broken. It was a very
good thing he had brought a surgeon with him. Had the surgeon not
found the bit of cloth carried into the wound by the bullet, young
Darcy's chances of recovering would have been slight, if any.

With an acknowledging nod to Denham who was
quietly straightening the bedside table, Dr. Lawrence turned
to the figure sleeping in the nearby chair and gently shook her
awake.

“Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth started from her fitful sleep.
“What is it?”

Lawrence caught her as she jumped forward
toward Darcy's bed. “Rest easy, young lady. The fever is gone and
he is sleeping.”

A quivering sigh escaped as she relaxed in
his hold. “Thank heavens!”

“As you see, he is resting comfortably now,
so I suggest you do the same or you will be in no condition to see
him when he awakes.”