by Robin Helm
Darcy forced himself to think of what was to come.
They were about half-way to the house now. Miss Bennet had said two miles to Longbourn, so that meant there was three miles between the estates. They were travelling so slowly that, if the boys ran, her family could be at Netherfield within the hour. There was no telling how far it was to the apothecary.
“Bingley?” Darcy said quietly.
Bingley pulled up next to them.
“You should ride ahead and alert the household. They should make a room ready for Miss Bennet, somewhere she can be examined by the apothecary.”
“The rooms for my sisters and Hurst are ready. We might have to put her in one of those. If she is too ill to travel home, Mrs. Curtis will have to ready another for a relation of hers.”
“A relation?”
“Miss Bennet cannot stay alone in a house with two bachelors, Darcy.”
Of course. He was usually the one reminding Bingley of the rules of propriety. What was wrong with him?
“I shall organize it all and see you when you reach the house.” Bingley rode off at a quick pace.
Darcy had already compromised Miss Bennet thoroughly. Leaving them alone like this was setting it in stone.
The Bennets had every right to demand he marry her. Would they take into account that he had been helping her—possibly saving her life—or would his wealth, property, and connections be their guide?
And what of the boys who had witnessed his rescue? Would they tell the whole neighbourhood what they saw? Would that help or hurt his cause?
Due to his strong sense of duty, he had a reputation for always doing the right thing. What was the right thing in this situation?
Miss Bennet stirred.
“We are about halfway there,” he said softly.
She whimpered. “Who… Oh, Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes. Did the nap help at all?”
She frowned. “I think all the excitement had dulled the pain earlier.”
“I am sorry to hear you are feeling worse. Bingley rode ahead to have a room made up for you.”
“That will not be necessary, sir.” She winced and spoke more softly this time, “I am sure Mr. Jones can assess my injuries in a parlour or sitting room and then my father can order his carriage to take me home.”
Although she had not yet opened her eyes, still, he held back his smile. She must not be in extreme pain if her determination had not faded.
“If Mr. Jones permits it, your father will not have to wait for your carriage. Mine can be made ready to take you home at a moment’s notice.”
She opened her eyes and moved slightly to look at him. Her gaze meeting his caused a stirring deep within him. He suppressed a gasp.
“I cannot thank you enough, sir. You have been most obliging.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder once again. “I am sorry; the light is making it worse, and I cannot seem to hold up my head for long when my eyes are closed.”
“I am honoured to be of service.”
He thought she was falling asleep again, until she spoke, “I have never been this tired in my life, and I fear that must not be good. I am afraid to fall asleep again unless Mr. Jones tells me it is safe. Please talk to me.”
A bolt of alarm sliced through him. If instinct was telling her not to sleep, they had better listen. “What do you wish to talk about?”
“Where is your home?”
“I have a townhouse in London, but I call Derbyshire home.”
“Any family?”
“A sister who is just over ten years my junior, two aunts, an uncle, and several cousins. And you?”
“I am the second oldest of five daughters,” she said drowsily.
He spoke right away to keep her from falling asleep. “Have you no brothers?”
“None.”
“Neither do I.”
He wracked his brain for another question. He was quite inept when it came to small talk.
She asked, “Have you purchased Netherfield?”
“My friend, Bingley, wishes to buy an estate and thought to lease one first to see if he is suited to it, and to the area.”
“You came along to give your opinion?”
“I am here to instruct him. He has no idea what is involved with running an estate.”
“But you do?”
“Yes.” Would she think he was boasting if he told her about Pemberley?
“My aunt grew up in Derbyshire,” she said, her voice a little brighter this time.
“Do you know from what part?”
“A little village called… I think it is Lambton.”
“My estate is only five miles from Lambton.”
“It must be lovely. She says it is the most beautiful countryside in all of England.”
“I would have to agree.”
“Then why did you not advise your friend to lease an estate there?”
He chuckled. “It is a two-and-a-half-day ride from London to my estate. Bingley wished to be much closer to Town, so Hertfordshire seemed a better choice for him. Besides, had I advised him to do so, you would still be on that cliff’s ledge.”
She smiled slightly.
His heart skipped a beat. Why was he so affected by her?
“We are almost there,” he said. “A man just rode up to the house. Bingley is speaking to him. He seems worried. They are walking in this direction.”
She opened her eyes and tried to lift her head, but could not. He turned his torso so she could look in that direction.
“Lizzy!” the man called out and started walking faster.
He looked down at the lady in his arms. Yes, Lizzy suited her nicely. He would like to call her Lizzy someday.
There went his imagination again!
“That is my father.” She waved. “How could he have received word and come so quickly?”
Her father’s footfalls picked up speed.
“His heart!” Miss Bennet said, her voice panicked. “He should not be walking so fast.”
“Lizzy!” her father wheezed, out of breath. “What happened?”
Miss Bennet moved her head a little. She flinched and squeaked, but only loud enough for Darcy to hear.
His body tensed in sympathy.
She reached out her hand; her father took it. Adoration flooded Mr. Bennet’s eyes, which moistened as he took in the sight of her.
Envy pricked at him. What would it have been like to have had a father who cared for his child that much?
“Papa, Mr. Darcy saved me.”
~%~
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for coming to my daughter’s rescue,” her father said.
Elizabeth looked up at Mr. Darcy, gratitude emanating from every fibre of her being. She felt… she was not sure what she felt for the man, but it was something she had never experienced before. She decided it was profound appreciation.
“Papa, beside you is Mr. Bingley, who also came to my aid. He is the new resident at Netherfield. Gentlemen, this is my father, Mr. Thomas Bennet, of Longbourn, your nearest neighbour.”
She felt herself sag. Goodness, how could a simple introduction have taken so much out of her?
“I appreciate your help, as well, Mr. Bingley,” her father said and shook the gentleman’s hand.
Sarah, the daughter of one of her father’s tenants, who Elizabeth had heard was working at Netherfield, approached. “Can I do anythin’ to help, sirs?”
“Sarah…” Elizabeth said and closed her eyes. Speaking was making the pain in her head unbearable.
Mr. Darcy said, “Have you experience with nursing, Sarah?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let us get Miss Bennet into the house, and then you can attend her.”
Mr. Darcy clicked his tongue and directed his horse to continue to the entrance of the building.
Once there, she was handed down into her father’s arms.
Three footmen, a woman who looked to be Mr. Bingley’s housekeeper, and Sarah waited t
o be given instructions.
It was not Mr. Bingley giving orders, as she had expected. Instead, Mr. Bingley seemed at a loss and looked to Mr. Darcy. Her father was distracted beyond anything she had ever seen. Mr. Darcy kept a cool head and had an air of authority radiating from him. Everyone responded to it.
The housekeeper turned to Elizabeth’s father. “Follow me, please.” Mrs. Curtis headed up the marble stairs that led to the front door.
After only a few steps, her father was badly winded. She knew he could not carry her up the stairs and into the house. With the state he was in, she wondered if he might need to be carried in himself.
“Set me down, please, Papa. My legs are sound. I might not have been able to march a mile from Oakham Mount, but I can walk into the house.”
He gently placed her on her feet.
Maybe standing was not such a good idea after all. Just holding her head upright was a task. A wave of dizziness came over her.
She refused to give in to it and steadied herself by wrapping her arm around her father’s. Her father would never allow anyone else to carry her, and she would not cause him to become ill as a result of her own stupidity.
She caught Mr. Darcy’s eye and then glanced at her father.
He nodded slightly and stepped forward. “If you insist on walking, Miss Bennet, after your ordeal, it would be best if are supported on both sides. Perhaps, Mr. Bennet, you would allow your daughter to make use of my arm while you hold her around the waist from the other side.”
Her father nodded, and the gentlemen switched sides.
As they made their ascent, she leaned heavily on Mr. Darcy. Their slow speed was as much for her father as for herself.
“There is a parlour on this level,” said Mr. Darcy. “Shall we wait for the apothecary in there?”
Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, grateful he had taken her wishes into account. “Yes, please.”
Mr. Darcy told Mrs. Curtis to fetch a blanket.
A footman opened a door. Elizabeth let go of Mr. Darcy’s arm and allowed her father to steer her through the opening. It was not long before she was settled into a wing chair near a roaring fire, with her feet on an ottoman and a blanket tucked around her. Sarah hovered nearby. Her father sat next to her, and Mr. Bingley took a seat on a sofa across the way.
Mr. Darcy entered the room last, with a new cravat tied around his neck. Where had that come from? She touched the one she was using as a sling.
Normally, Elizabeth would sit with her back as straight as a board, but she was completely exhausted. She hoped the gentlemen forgave her for leaning back against the cushions.
~%~
Darcy watched Miss Bennet close her eyes. Her breathing rate decreased almost immediately. If it were not for the blood-soaked handkerchief tied around her head, she would look like an angel.
She had been afraid to fall to sleep while they were riding. Should he wake her now?
Once Mr. Bennet had caught his breath, Darcy cleared his throat as loud as he could and said, “Mr. Bennet, your daughter was surprised you had arrived so quickly after the boys were sent to notify you of her accident.”
Miss Bennet stirred and opened her eyes. Good.
Mr. Bennet said, “I was on my way to welcome Mr. Bingley to the neighbourhood.” He looked at Bingley. “You looked to be in quite a shock when I introduced myself.” He met Darcy’s gaze once again. “He then explained that the lady with you also bore the name Bennet, and I confirmed that she was my daughter.”
Darcy said, “So you were not notified of the accident after all?”
Mr. Bennet shook his head. “The only other family member at home right now is my eldest daughter, Jane. When the boys do get to Longbourn, I hope she handles the news without too much anxiety. I would be surprised if she did not make an appearance here soon.”
Darcy noted that if Jane was the eldest, he should call her Miss Bennet. Her sister should be called Miss Elizabeth. For some reason, he felt a spark of pleasure at being able to use her Christian name.
As if in answer to Mr. Bennet’s prediction, a footman announced Miss Jane Bennet. The gentlemen all rose. She was wearing a riding habit and had not stopped long enough to remove her hat or coat.
She was lovely in the classic sense, not like her sister, whose beauty was unconventional. In fact, they were very different—where Jane Bennet was blonde, blue-eyed, tall, and willowy, Elizabeth Bennet had dark-brown hair, green eyes, and a fuller figure. The former also gave the impression of being taller than her younger sister; Darcy had been surprised when Miss Elizabeth stood, for she only came up to his shoulder.
Bingley’s mouth hung open as he stared Miss Bennet.
Darcy stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Another case of love-at-first-sight for Bingley.
Mr. Bennet made his way over to Miss Bennet as she crossed the room. She kissed her father’s cheek and rushed to her sister’s side. Kneeling, she took Miss Elizabeth’s hand. The two ladies spoke softly.
Darcy nudged Bingley with his elbow, which awakened him from his dream-like state. He directed a footman to bring Miss Bennet a chair.
Eventually, Miss Bennet looked up from her sister. “Papa, has Mr. Jones been called for?”
“Yes, my dear. Mr. Bingley sent the messengers to our house first, then on to fetch him. I am glad you are here so that you and Sarah can remain in the room while he examines Lizzy.”
Miss Bennet looked around her, seemingly surprised to find there were other people in the room. She blushed.
The kind of affection that would make an unmarried lady lose herself in her sister’s well-being even though there were two eligible gentlemen in the room was, in his experience, a rare quality. It warmed Darcy’s heart that Miss Elizabeth had such a sister.
Mr. Bennet made the introductions. Darcy and Bingley bowed, Miss Bennet curtsied. Her gaze locked with Bingley’s, and she flushed again, more deeply this time. She looked away from him quickly.
Ah, the attraction was mutual. However, Miss Bennet was modest, so unlike he was used to seeing in ladies of his social circle.
It was also to her credit that she met both Bingley and him in the same moment, and she preferred Bingley. Although Bingley’s clothing was well tailored, by the cut and quality of material it was obvious Darcy was the wealthier of the two. Most single ladies set their sights on Darcy first, at least until they realized he was not interested. Bingley was an easier mark; he would flirt with anyone of the gentry and often thought himself in love.
Miss Elizabeth looked at her sister and smiled slightly, giving him the feeling that Miss Bennet’s interest was not a frequent occurrence.
Darcy’s first impressions were that Miss Bennet was worth winning, if only Bingley could remain interested long enough this time.
A footman announced Mr. Jones, the apothecary. The gentlemen were soon asked to leave the room.
“Shall we adjourn to the study?” Bingley asked.
They filed into the corridor and followed Bingley.
As Darcy and Mr. Bennet took seats, Bingley walked over to his liquor decanter and raised the stopper. “I know it is early in the day, but after this morning’s events, I thought we all might need a bit of a bracer. Gentlemen?”
Both agreed. Bingley handed out glasses and settled into a chair.
Bingley spoke first. “I am sorry this is the way I should meet you and your daughters, Mr. Bennet.”
“Again, I thank you for coming to my Lizzy’s aid. I can only hope that one of these days, she will not find herself mired in one mess or another so deeply that she cannot easily extract herself.”
“Is Miss Elizabeth accident-prone, then?” Darcy asked. She had mentioned she is no stranger to injuries.
Mr. Bennet chuckled. “She is more of an adventuress than anything. Even as a little girl, she was always taking the path less travelled or hazarding a few steps further than others would venture. However, she always bounces back. I am surprised she did not insist on walkin
g all the way home.”
Darcy bit back a smile. “Miss Elizabeth did try, but after she swooned and almost fell off the cliff, she agreed it was probably best to allow me to carry her off the ledge and ride with her on my horse.”
Mr. Bennet blanched. He furrowed his brow. “As bad as that, eh?”
“I am afraid so, sir,” Darcy answered. He almost said that she could have easily died, but in deference to Mr. Bennet’s heart problems, he withheld that information.
CHAPTER 3
“So, Miss Elizabeth, what was it this time?” Mr. Jones asked as he leaned in to examine her arm.
She pulled a breath in through her teeth, hissing. She knew from experience that he was trying to distract her from what he was doing. It did not help.
“I think the shoulder has been pulled out of the joint, sir.”
He nodded. “Did a tree branch snap? How did you get so much dirt in your hair?”
She wondered where her bonnet had gotten to.
“I was distracted and stepped a bit too close to the edge at the top of Oakham Mount. It gave way,” Elizabeth answered. “It was only by happenstance that I landed on the ledge instead of falling all the way down.”
“Oh, Lizzy!” Jane gasped. “I did not know all the particulars.”
Mr. Jones raised both eyebrows and met her gaze. “Someone should erect a signpost there informing people to stay away from the fringe.”
He could only mean her father since it was his land. She would make sure to speak to him about it. However, a sign would not have kept her from going too far. She was always being told to be more careful, and she agreed to so every time. Really, she meant to be more cautious, but when faced with a choice between being careful and taking a risk, she automatically chose the risk without any further thought.
Scrapes and bruises had become part of her everyday life, but this time she had almost died. She knew it, and she could see that Mr. Jones knew it, too.
“Did you lose consciousness?” Mr. Jones asked. “Do you remember the fall?”
“I woke up on the ledge thinking I had fallen asleep in an odd position, which made me uncomfortable. After a little while, I realized I was outside and remembered the ground falling out from under me, but I still cannot remember actually falling. I do not know how long I was asleep. You might ask Mr. Darcy about it, for I understand the gentlemen saw me fall, and I awakened just before he came to my aid.”
