To Conquer Pride

by Jennifer Altman

  Darcy inclined his head, offering her an awkward bow. “I will leave you to your privacy, then.” He walked halfway to the door before turning. “Is there anything you require before I go? I can ring for one of the maids to come sit with you, if you would like?”

  “Oh, no! Do not disturb anyone at this hour. I… I think I will read for a while and then attempt to return to sleep.”

  Darcy nodded, his eyes soft. “As you wish. Sleep well, Miss Bennet.”

  Walking back into his sister’s chamber, Darcy could not help feeling somewhat relieved to know that Elizabeth would be moving back into the guest wing on the morrow. Clearly having her in such close proximity was not as good an idea as he had previously thought.

  ***

  The following morning Elizabeth woke with the sun, still reeling from the night before. Hurrying to dress, she sat before the mirrored glass, studying her flushed countenance as her late-night encounter with Mr. Darcy played out inside her head: the dark room, Mr. Darcy holding her, his hands warm against her back, his soft voice whispering words of comfort… Good Lord! How was she ever to face him again after such an incident? Perhaps she should join her aunt and uncle on their trip to the Lakes after all.

  Pushing back her chair, Elizabeth rose and headed for the door. It was still early. She would take a walk in the gardens. She needed time to clear her head, and she could not bear to face anyone until she had come to a decision.

  Hurriedly descending the stairs, Elizabeth padded across the vaulted entrance hall, hoping Mr. Darcy’s always efficient staff had already put out a pot of tea. But as soon as she reached the breakfast parlor, her feet ground to a halt. There, alone in the room, sat the one person she would have moved heaven and earth to avoid.

  His head was bowed over his paper, but as if by instinct, Darcy lifted his gaze, rising when he spotted her standing in the doorway.

  “Miss Bennet. Good morning.”

  Elizabeth stared back at him, but her feet remained pinned to the carpet. She could feel a blush spreading from her neck to her hairline and would have liked nothing better than to turn and run, but of course now that he had noticed her, that was no longer an option. Attempting to regulate the hammering of her heart, she schooled her features and slowly entered the room.

  “Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” she answered, hoping her voice was reasonably steady. Making her way over to the sideboard, she selected the first thing she saw—a roll and butter—and filled a cup with freshly brewed tea. Feeling Mr. Darcy’s watchful gaze, she stood uncertainly for a moment before choosing a seat farther down the table.

  “I trust you are well this morning, Miss Bennet?”

  Elizabeth tensed, her eyes darting to the footman stationed near the door.

  “Yes. I thank you, sir,” she murmured, immediately fixing her attention on her food.

  Darcy frowned, then turned to address the footman. “Andrew, would you be good enough to go to the kitchens and speak to Mrs. West about preparing a basket for our guests? I am certain they will wish to depart shortly after breakfast and I would like everything to be ready.”

  The footman bowed and promptly removed himself from the room.

  Once the door had closed behind him, Darcy drew his chair in Elizabeth’s direction. “Miss Bennet,” he said softly, but Elizabeth’s focus remained on her plate. “Elizabeth, will you not look at me?”

  At the use of her Christian name, Elizabeth’s eyes widened and her gaze snapped in his direction.

  Seeming to realize his blunder, Darcy colored. “I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I can see you are upset. I only wished to ask—”

  But before he could complete his sentence, the sound of raised voices in the vestibule silenced them both, and Darcy hastily moved his chair back to its original position. The Gardiners, Mary Bennet, and Grant entered the breakfast parlor, and Darcy stood. After greetings were exchanged and everyone had helped themselves to food, Mr. Gardiner looked across the table at his elder niece.

  “Well, Lizzy, I see you are up early as usual.”

  His gaze swept the edges of the room, clearly noting the absence of the footman, and Elizabeth flushed.

  As if reading her thoughts, Mr. Darcy turned in his seat. “Mr. Gardiner, I have taken the liberty of sending my man to the kitchens to ask my cook to prepare some provisions for your journey. I assumed you would wish to depart shortly, although of course you are welcome to stay as long as you would like.”

  “That is most considerate of you, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner replied, casting a glance at her husband. “And yes, we will leave as soon as we have broken our fast. My husband has already sent word to ready our carriage.”

  Mr. Darcy nodded and Elizabeth lifted her teacup, studying him out of the corner of her eye. She could not help but notice how well he looked this morning, his still-damp hair curling against the collar of his jacket.

  A sudden image of him standing in her bedchamber wearing only shirtsleeves and trousers flooded her mind and she promptly lowered her lashes. How could she stay on in Mr. Darcy’s sole company after what had occurred the night before? But more to the point, how could she bear to leave?

  ***

  Elizabeth stood beside the Gardiners’ carriage as her uncle offered their host a cordial bow. “Mr. Darcy, we thank you for your hospitality. I hope you will extend our best wishes to your sister. We will be praying for her speedy recovery.”

  “I thank you, sir,” Darcy answered, reaching out to grip Mr. Gardiner’s hand. “I am sorry your stay was cut short, but I wish you a pleasant journey.”

  Elizabeth stepped forward as Mary and her aunt approached the carriage.

  “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” Mrs. Gardiner whispered, wrapping Elizabeth in a light embrace.

  After only a second’s hesitation, Elizabeth shook her head. No, she hadn’t changed her mind. Despite all that had occurred, she could not shake the feeling that her place was at Pemberley.

  “Very well. Just remember, you are not a prisoner here, but you must take care. We will see you within a fortnight.”

  “Yes, Aunt,” Elizabeth said softly as her uncle stepped forward to assist the ladies into the carriage.

  Watching as the Gardiners’ coach disappeared down the drive, Mr. Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm. Escorting her back inside the house, he turned to address his butler who was waiting in the front hall. “Hastings, would you be good enough to locate Mrs. Reynolds? I would like to have her acquaint Miss Bennet with the maid who will be acting as her companion.”

  Hastings hurried off to do his master’s bidding and Darcy shepherded Elizabeth across the hall to the library. Settling her onto a silk damask sofa in the center of the room, he moved to take a nearby chair.

  Elizabeth sat twisting her handkerchief, her gaze fixed mostly on her lap.

  After several moments of awkward silence, Darcy leaned forward. “Miss Bennet, I beg your pardon. I wished to apologize—both for the way I addressed you at breakfast this morning and for… last night. I hope you know I would never have entered your chambers if I was not worried for your safety. If I caused you any embarrassment, I assure you that was not my intent.”

  Elizabeth picked up her head, her cheeks pink. “I know that, Mr. Darcy, and I thank you for your concern.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “I hope I did not disturb your sister when I… when I called out.”

  “No. My sister is a sound sleeper, even when not under the influence of laudanum.” He smiled, but then his expression grew earnest. “Would you care to speak about it, Miss Bennet? The dream, that is?”

  “No, sir. Again, I appreciate your concern, but I would rather not.”

  “Forgive me, I did not mean to pry. I merely thought… I wondered if it might have had something to do with the accident.”

  Elizabeth startled. “The accident? But that was more than six months ago, Mr. Darcy.” Suddenly a thought occurred to her and her eyes widened in alarm. Good heavens! Had she spoken in her sleep?
The idea that, in addition to seeing her in the privacy of her chambers, Mr. Darcy might also be privy to the personal nature of her dream was utterly humiliating. She looked away. “What made you think so?” she asked.

  Darcy’s shrugged offhandedly. “It is not uncommon for the effects of such a traumatic experience to linger. I have dreamt of the accident myself, on occasion,” he added quietly.

  Elizabeth turned to study him. “Have you?”

  “Yes.”

  Hoping to move the conversation away from herself, Elizabeth continued, “I had meant to inquire… about the coachman. How is his widow faring? I am certain this has been a difficult time for her.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth could see Darcy tense.

  “She is… as well as could be expected. While I have assured her that she will always have a home at Pemberley, she has gone to spend some time with her son and his family.” Before Darcy could elaborate, a knock sounded at the open door and Mrs. Reynolds entered, a maid in tow.

  Darcy and Elizabeth rose.

  “Ah, Mrs. Reynolds. And Polly.” Darcy smiled as he turned to address the young maid standing in his housekeeper’s shadow.

  The girl’s eyes grew round, but she dropped a polite curtsy, stepping forward at Mrs. Reynolds’ prodding.

  “Miss Bennet, Polly will attend you for the remainder of your stay. I have freed her from her other duties, so she is completely at your disposal.”

  “That is kind of you, Mrs. Reynolds, but I am certain that will not be necessary. At home, I share a maid with all my sisters and am accustomed to managing mostly on my own.”

  The housekeeper glanced over at Mr. Darcy but it was he who spoke.

  “Miss Bennet, I assured your uncle that I would provide you with a companion. You would not have me go back on my word, now would you?”

  “No, Mr. Darcy, I would not. Though I assume I shall not have to rely on Polly’s companionship while I am in the company of your sister?”

  “No, of course not. Georgiana is attended at all times, so there is no need to trouble any of the other maids if you are with her.”

  “Good.” Facing the maid, Elizabeth continued, “In that case, you may have some time to yourself, Polly, as I intend to sit with Miss Darcy for the remainder of the morning.”

  She turned to go, but Mr. Darcy’s voice arrested her steps.

  “Miss Bennet, I will see you later, I hope?”

  Elizabeth paused, but after a moment she nodded before hurrying from the room.

  ***

  When Elizabeth reached Georgiana’s chambers, she found the physician at the girl’s bedside; however, upon her approach, the gentleman stood, bowing deeply and edging towards the door.

  “Pray, do not leave on my account, sir. I should be happy to keep myself occupied with a book if you and Miss Darcy wish to converse.”

  To Elizabeth’s surprise, the doctor flushed. “No. I have other things to attend to.” Directing his gaze back to Georgiana he said softly, “Pray, drink as much of that draught as you are able, Miss Darcy. I will return to check on you later this afternoon.”

  Georgiana nodded and Elizabeth turned to the young girl in the bed. “How are you feeling, Miss Darcy? If you would like to sleep, I can also return later.”

  Georgiana shook her head. “No. I would prefer the company. It helps to distract me. However, Miss Bennet… Would it be impertinent for me to ask that you call me Georgiana?” Before Elizabeth could answer the girl’s cheeks colored and she hurried to add, “It is only that you feel more like a friend than an acquaintance now, but I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

  “I would be delighted to call you by your given name. I would consider it a great honor. And of course, you must call me Elizabeth.”

  A small smile lifted Georgiana’s cheeks. “I thank you, Elizabeth. I would like that.”

  “Good, that’s settled then. Now, shall I read to you? Or I am happy to play the pianoforte if you prefer, though I must own that I play very poorly compared to you and your brother.”

  “I am certain that is not true… But if you would like to read, there is a book there on the table.”

  Elizabeth spent the next hour reading aloud until Georgiana fell into a restless slumber. Shortly afterwards, Mrs. Reynolds appeared with a pot of tea and a light meal of cold meats and cheeses, which Elizabeth ate curled upon the couch in the adjacent parlor. She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake by Georgiana’s maid. Opening her eyes, Elizabeth took in the woman’s worried expression and was instantly on her feet.

  “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but Miss Darcy is awake and I think she is unwell. She did not want me to fetch anyone but—”

  Elizabeth was already across the room, heading for the door to Georgiana’s chamber. “No, you did the right thing, Miss Logan.”

  Entering the next room, Elizabeth hurried to the bed. Georgiana lay on her side, her legs drawn up to her chest and her breathing uneven. It was clear to see that she was in unspeakable pain. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Elizabeth reached to brush a lock of hair off the girl’s forehead and startled at the warmth of her skin. Continuing to stroke Georgiana’s hair, she turned to the maid who was now hovering near the foot of the bed.

  “Logan, pray, go and fetch Dr. Grant and Mr. Darcy,” she said softly. The maid quickly fled and Elizabeth continued to speak soothingly to her friend. “Shh, all will soon be well. I have sent for the doctor.”

  Tears coursed down Georgiana’s pale cheeks as Elizabeth sat beside her, gently rubbing her back. Moments later the door burst open and the doctor entered, his long strides moving him to the bed.

  Elizabeth rose, but in her haste to step aside, the heel of her slipper snagged the trimmings of her gown. Without warning, she pitched forward, her arms stretched out in an attempt to break her fall. In a flash, the doctor was before her. Feeling her body collide with his, Elizabeth gasped and then quickly looked away, struggling to regain her balance. “I beg your pardon,” she stammered as she felt his hands settle at her waist.

  A sudden movement behind them captured her attention and she turned to see Mr. Darcy glowering in the doorway.

  ***

  Darcy’s eyes narrowed as fury roiled within his gut. How dare Grant put his hands on her! And here, in his sister’s sick-room, no less! Watching Elizabeth step back, Darcy advanced into the chamber, his fingers tightening into fists, but Georgiana’s pained whimper stayed his course.

  Darting a venomous look in the doctor’s direction, Darcy moved to the far side of the bed. Kneeling at his sister’s side, he reached for her hand and all thoughts of Elizabeth and Grant vanished.

  Georgiana’s eyes were haunted, and when Darcy stared into their depths, it was not his sister’s face he saw before him, but his mother’s, just as she had looked before death had claimed her. A silent scream began climbing up Darcy’s throat and he struggled to compose his features. “Georgie, I am here,” he whispered. “Is the pain very bad?”

  Fighting back tears, the girl nodded, before letting out a strangled sob. On the opposite side of the bed, Grant reached for his bag.

  Darcy lifted his gaze. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving her another dose of laudanum. There is nothing more to be done besides managing the pain.” After a pause he added, “Unless you have changed your mind?”

  Looking away, Darcy felt the terror he had been holding at bay cinch tightly around his heart. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could answer, Georgiana cried out, a chilling high-pitched wail that propelled Darcy to his feet.

  “I… excuse me,” he choked, before rushing past Elizabeth and out of the room.

  Darcy’s footsteps pounded through the front hall, carrying him across the threshold of his study. Striding towards the fireplace, he grabbed a decanter from the mantelpiece, splashing brandy into the nearest glass and consuming it in one swallow. The fiery liquid burned its way down Darcy’s throat but
he was oblivious, immediately refilling his glass. He did not notice the soft footsteps that crossed the room until he felt a gentle hand just above his elbow.

  “Mr. Darcy, is there anything I can do?” Elizabeth asked.

  Darcy’s arm jerked at her touch and he spun to face her. The ferocity that he knew must be reflected in his eyes would have sent most men scurrying for the door, but Elizabeth stood her ground. Darcy turned away. “Unless you know of some magic potion that will relieve my sister’s suffering, Miss Bennet, no, there is not.”

  Elizabeth stepped back, clearly startled by the coolness of his tone. “Forgive me, I know it is none of my affair but… Dr. Grant mentioned you changing your mind. Has he suggested some remedy for what is ailing Miss Darcy?”

  Darcy glared back at Elizabeth, his eyes like granite. “Oh, yes, Miss Bennet, the doctor, if he can be called such a thing, has a particular remedy in mind.” Grasping the decanter, he poured himself another drink, taking a large draught.

  Elizabeth waited as Darcy lowered himself into the chair behind his desk. “What sort of remedy?” she finally asked.

  Darcy stared vacantly across the room. “Nothing I can discuss. Not with a lady.”

  Elizabeth stepped closer, taking a seat on one of the chairs opposite the desk. “I am not so delicate as all that, sir.”

  Darcy took another swallow of brandy. After a moment he spoke, but his eyes remained fixed on a point across the room. “He wants to cut her open. In a most… vulgar manner.” Just thinking about the operation made his fingers tighten around his glass.

  “Oh, I see. I… I understand how that would be upsetting to you.”

  Darcy turned his head, fixing Elizabeth with an inscrutable stare. “Do you?”

  Elizabeth lifted her chin. “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I do. However, if it is your sister’s best chance at a full recovery…”