Fragments

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Fragments Page 8

by Teg


  The Bingley home had been evaluated for its suitability of Elizabeth’s needs and suggestions were made for necessary changes to make all their lives easier.

  Then the occupational therapist had gone over it all with her patient to be sure she understood her limitations and could cope with the difficulties the new environment would present. Stairs would be the biggest danger and with

  Elizabeth’s stubborn pride often interfering with her good sense it was a very real concern.

  Alone in her hospital room, Elizabeth scrutinised her image in the small mirror Jane had brought for her. Beautiful was what Will had called her. She saw only a gaunt face peering back, eyes underlined by the stress her body had

  undergone, small scars offering mute testimony to the brutal act that had been perpetrated upon her. She didn't even want to look at her hair; dry and brittle, it had been shorn close to her scalp for ease of care. For the first time since she had opened her eyes in the hospital and seen her sister and Will Darcy staring back at her Elizabeth felt the weight of despair.

  Many long hours had been spent in therapies of all kinds, none of the exercises daunting her. It was her own body that she felt kept betraying her. Elizabeth faced each session with determination, drawing strength when she needed it from the presence of her supporters. There had been frustration and

  disappointment but nothing compared to what she felt upon seeing the

  reflection of a woman she did not recognise, knowing it was herself.

  She closed her eyes and mouthed the words she had heard Will say a thousand times when he thought she was sleeping. You'll always be my beautiful

  Elizabeth.

  Snatches of dreamlike memories surfaced; the touch of his hand on hers, the brush of his lips on her cheek. There was more; the scent of flowers, hundreds of flowers, filled her mind. A voice, whispering and urgent, loving and tender, professing a never ending devotion....

  Elizabeth had never thought of Will Darcy as anything but a man with a heart sealed behind a vault door. That is, not until that time before Jane's wedding when he'd stolen her kisses and tried to convince her he was in love. Elizabeth had spurned him then, shocked at her own behaviour. Expecting George, it

  hadn't surprised her to feel a man's lips on her neck but when she had turned to kiss him as well it didn't take more than two seconds to realise he wasn't who she thought. Yet Elizabeth did not stop to find out whose kiss was far superior to anything George had given her. It just felt so right. She came to her senses quickly enough, though; shaken to discover she was in the arms of Will Darcy.

  More upset with herself than with him, she lashed out with every insult she could think of but the hurt so evident in his eyes had caused her many a

  sleepless night afterward. In those dark hours she would again feel his kiss for it burned deep within her.

  Although Elizabeth remembered nothing of the physical abuse she had

  experienced to result in her trip to the hospital and subsequent coma she did recall what had started that argument with George. Their relationship had not been one of respect, mutual or otherwise. Elizabeth had early on discovered that he was manipulative, a spendthrift and, later, womanising. There was one thing he could not stand, however; comparison with his old friend Will Darcy.

  In the heat of anger, swelled to monumental proportions by the discovery of George with another woman, Elizabeth had used this insecurity to taunt him, declaring Will the most passionate man she'd ever kissed and sending George into a jealous rage.

  It was the last thing she remembered.

  No mention of George Wickham had been made between her and Jane but

  Elizabeth wanted to know what had become of her former lover. She felt safe enough, knew that Will would never allow any further harm to come to her, but not knowing George’s fate filled her with fear nonetheless and she would not count on being forever under Will’s protection.

  Along with guilt and gratitude came admiration for Will. She found it difficult to understand his faithfulness when she had stripped his hide clean that night in their romantic tropical setting. No, she did not want to be merely grateful for everything he’d done, for bringing her back from the blackness of oblivion.

  Will deserved so much more. He deserved her respect, her loyalty, but most of all her love. Yet did he want it? Did he want her with everything so different; she would never be the same, not the woman he had said he loved.

  She could never be the same again.

  Elizabeth searched the eyes in the mirror. She felt only despair and

  disillusionment. Who was this creature staring back, pretending to house her soul in a body that was no longer her own? Until she could accept

  herself, love herself, how could she love Will? Yet part of her knew that she did love him and had begun to long before George had worked his evil on her.

  Elizabeth yawned. Abandoning the mirror, she settled into bed, drew the

  blankets up to her chin and imagined herself tucked in the warmth of Will’s arms.

  There was so much she wanted to say; to apologise for her behaviour, the things she’d said.... for slapping him. Every time she drew near him, though, it seemed that George appeared. The only time Elizabeth had spent alone with Will was their dance and it was hardly the time or place, while everyone else was watching them.

  Amazingly, he had been perfectly polite, a gentleman with class enough to treat her as if nothing unpleasant had passed between them. She could not feel any worse. She could not feel less deserving.

  The day of her discharge had finally arrived. Elizabeth had seen every inch of the hospital and hated it all. Jane and Charles would be taking her home before lunch and she could hardly wait to put the last year behind her. Every moment wasted on George Wickham was one to forget. Therapy would continue for a

  long time; exactly when she would, or if she could, be self-sufficient again was still unknown.

  There was no great fanfare when she was wheeled from her room to the

  elevator although staff from the many departments she had frequented

  appeared to bid her farewell. The elevator doors closed and Elizabeth was

  alone with Jane and Charles. She closed her eyes, determined to keep the tears at bay until she could reach the sanctuary of her own room in Jane's home.

  Charles commented on the weather turning cooler, a forecast of rain for the week ahead, then the doors parted once more to release them on the main floor of the hospital. Charles navigated Elizabeth's chair through the corridors to the entrance where she at last saw Will. He was standing next to the open door of a minivan but upon the trio's approach stepped quickly forward.

  Elizabeth's throat constricted with emotion. His smile sent her heart beating wildly and when he leaned down to whisper in her ear she could no longer hold back the tears.

  "You didn't really think I'd miss this moment, did you?" Will asked and was astonished when she began to cry. "Oh, Lizzy!" he murmured, scooping her up from the chair, her arms wrapped around his neck and her face buried into his shoulder. He managed to place her in the van, sitting down next to her,

  whereupon Elizabeth promptly curled up against him.

  It was a half hour to the Bingleys', even with Charles driving. Elizabeth had regained her control by then, taking an active interest in the passing urban landscape while Jane excitedly filled her in on everything that had changed.

  Will watched her in silence, relishing her excitement and rejoicing in the simple fact that she was living again.

  How I love you so, Elizabeth! he silently told her, probably for the hundredth time. He caressed her face with his gaze, wanting to touch her yet afraid; the day's emotional toll on her would be overwhelming and he had no desire to add to the pressure.

  Charles and Jane were out of the van as soon as it was parked, pulling

  Elizabeth's belongings from the back and taking them into the house. They left Will to assist her, knowing those few moments alone would hav
e to last them for some time.

  "Ready?"

  Elizabeth took a steadying breath, nodding her head. Then she placed her hand in Will's as he helped her down to the gravel drive.

  "I've got you," Will quickly assured when he saw her falter. His grip was strong and he slipped his other arm around her waist for more support. Elizabeth

  smiled at him, grateful for his attention to her safety and just because she liked the look he gave her when she did. She had paid close attention to how much his eyes revealed from the time she had awakened one day to find him staring past her, his expression one of such sadness and pain that she could hardly bear it. Elizabeth wondered how he could.

  They took their time progressing along the walk and to the front door.

  Elizabeth had been frustrated with the slow improvement in the control of her legs; they still refused to cooperate and work together, often turning a foot inward when she most needed it straight. Will's patience amazed her. When she had first met him, and for a long time after that, she had considered him an obsessed professional with no time for the average joe. What she had learned during her weeks of therapy so far was that he was a hard worker, dedicated to meeting the goals he assigned himself regardless of the obstacles in his path.

  Elizabeth had quickly adopted his philosophy, applying it to her therapy

  whenever a setback threatened to defeat her.

  The house was dark inside after the brighter light of the outdoors. Elizabeth stood in the doorway, leaning on Will, while her eyes adjusted. When she felt comfortable in venturing forward again she squeezed Will's hand, a signal they had developed early on in her recovery to tell him she was prepared to

  continue. He led her to the sofa, finally releasing her when she was relaxed.

  "Now that I've seen you home safe and sound, young lady, I must return to the office."

  "Must you?" Jane asked, disappointed for his sake.

  "Afraid so," he said with attempted cheerfulness. He looked down and saw in Elizabeth's eyes an expression of longing that made his heart jump. This was her first day home, however. He was not going to tire her by staying too long and he was fully aware of Jane's hope to have her sister quietly settled in.

  "I'll drive you," Charles offered. "I have a few things to take care of, myself."

  "Thanks." Will faced Elizabeth again. "No shirking your exercises once I've gone or I'll have to come back and make you do extra. Don't think Jane won't tell me if you play hooky, either!" He grinned at the latter, then hesitated only slightly before saying goodbye and slipping out the front door.

  When the men were gone Jane moved closer to her sister, patting her knee.

  "Would you like something to drink, Lizzy? Are you hungry? I thought we might sit for a while before unpacking your things."

  Elizabeth haltingly expressed her thanks and said a glass of water would be nice. They were the first words she had uttered that day. Relearning speech had not come easily and despite the hard work she was not comfortable in talking to anyone other than her therapist, Jane and the mirror. Thus their subsequent conversation was rather one sided. Jane's enthusiasm in having her sister at home made up for it, though. It was hardly an hour before Elizabeth was

  unable to disguise her yawns and Jane apologised for keeping her up so long.

  The trip upstairs to the bedroom took longer than Jane had imagined. Her sister was tired and taking one step at a time as she had been instructed. Fortunately there were only five steps to negotiate and once at the top, with a brief rest, the remaining distance could be covered more quickly. Jane pointed out the

  bathroom beside Elizabeth’s room, then smiled as they entered the bedroom.

  “Charles had your furniture moved from storage so you would feel more at

  home. I’ve put some things out on your dresser, within easy reach.” Picking up a decorous china bell Jane said, “You can ring this if you need me. I won’t be far.” She helped Elizabeth to undress then gave her some privacy, saying she'd come back to check on her later.

  Most of the dresser was covered with the stuffed animals that used to fill her hospital room. Many were old favourites but some were new acquisitions. It seemed that Will had a soft spot for the cute puppies with bright eyes and several breeds were sharing space with her older kittens and bears. A smile

  graced Elizabeth’s lips as she picked up one of the pups and carried it back to the bed. She stretched herself out under the blankets, enjoying the feel of the sheets against her skin, then snuggled the stuffed toy under her chin. As she drifted off to sleep, Elizabeth hoped her dreams would be more pleasant now that she was home.

  She stared after him in disbelief, her ears ringing with the sound of her own arrogance. Was he laughing at her? Was that why he had whispered so

  seductively in her ear, told her in essence that he admired her work and then simply walked away?

  She followed him with her eyes as he crossed to the other side of the room, wanting to go with him and demand an explanation, but George had seen her come in and he was already making his way over to her. Elizabeth was not in the mood for his games. With an empty glass in hand she pursued Charles for a refill, managing to leave her boyfriend to share his angry glares with no one.

  As she sipped her wine, thoughtfully turning over what little George had told her of his history with Will, Elizabeth considered the mystery of the man himself. He was not what she’d been led to believe, nor was he what she had originally thought; selfish, thoughtless and vain. Watching him stand silently near the doors leading back out to the deck, she shook her head in

  bewilderment.

  Why did she feel the need to argue with him whenever he opened his mouth, no matter what he said, and why did he never seem to be angry with her when she did? What was it about the man that kept drawing her back?

  Jane put aside her book and looked at the clock. Her sister had slept most of the afternoon and it would soon be time to start dinner. When she knocked softly on Elizabeth’s door she was surprised to see it open from the other side. “How did you sleep?” she asked with a welcoming smile.

  “Fine.” Elizabeth was already dressed, her clothes hanging loosely on her thin body.

  “I’m going to get dinner going now. Would you like to help?”

  Her sister’s eyes lit up with interest and she nodded eagerly.

  Jane walked ahead down the stairs, just in case Elizabeth slipped. Their

  progress was not fast and she talked the entire time. “Charles should be home in an hour or so. I thought we’d have some chicken, a salad, how about mashed potatoes? You always liked them.”

  They made it to the kitchen where Elizabeth sat down at the table. Jane took the vegetables from the fridge and set them, along with a large bowl and

  cutting board, on the table in front of Lizzy. Then she started getting the

  chicken prepared for the oven. Glancing over, she was pleased to see her sister breaking up the lettuce for the salad. “I would have gotten a decadent dessert to celebrate but since you shouldn’t have anything that rich yet I thought it would be cruel to tease you.”

  “Will?” Elizabeth asked, the one word filled with emotion.

  Jane shook her head. “He won’t be here tonight, Lizzy. It’s just the three of us.”

  She felt a small twinge of guilt for excluding Will from this first dinner but really didn’t want to share that moment with anyone else, even Will Darcy.

  Jane was rarely selfish but this time she was not going to give in. Fortunately Will was understanding and, although Jane had no idea how Elizabeth felt

  about him, she hoped any disappointment would be minimal. In any case, the weekend would see Will returning for a visit and Lizzy should be more rested by then. Jane also planned to discover what her feelings were about the man before he landed on their doorstep again.

  Elizabeth said nothing, applying herself to the shredding of the lettuce.

  The chicken went into the oven and Jan
e brought a knife to the table to begin cutting the other vegetables. “Lizzy,” she cautiously said. “I’m sorry if you expected Will to come back. I wanted it to just be us tonight.” She placed her hand over her sister’s. “Does it upset you, his not being here?” Elizabeth quickly shook her head but averted her face. Jane’s expression changed to one of concern. “He did call while you were sleeping, to make sure you were

  alright. I guess he misses you, too.” She noticed the flutter of her sister’s eyelids at that. “I won’t press you on the subject now but we do need to talk about it, about him, over the next few days.” Jane was concerned for both of them. Will had invested so much of himself in Elizabeth that it was unthinkable to shut him out now. Her sister, on the other hand, was not strong, physically or mentally, and she feared any pressure from him might set Elizabeth back in her recovery. Jane could tell that she was hurt by Will’s absence and it worried her even more; it seemed there was no way to avoid it.

  Taking both of Elizabeth’s hands, she insisted that her sister look up. “Lizzy, I know it’s hard for you but please try to tell me what you are feeling. I love you and I can’t stand to see you hurting. I promise Will is going to come on

  Saturday. He’s just giving us this time to be family again.” Her worst fear was that Elizabeth would rely too much on him. That wasn’t good for either of

  them.

  “Okay.” That was all she said, pulling her hands from Jane’s grasp and

  resuming her work on the lettuce.

  Jane sighed, knowing her task was not going to be easy.

  Chapter Ten

  It had been only two days but seemed like forever to Elizabeth. She looked forward with excitement when she awoke Saturday morning.

  Jane had been unusually nosy, prying with all sorts of questions she knew had but one aim. Elizabeth was trying to figure out that answer herself. It may have been frustrating for her sister to get monosyllabic responses but Elizabeth’s frustration was greater. Her tongue refused to cooperate and she felt her speech was slow, unintelligible and downright useless. She simply could not form the words she needed, couldn’t make them come out of her mouth. Had she been

 

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