A Very Austen Romance

by Robin Helm

  She cried out when he touched her shoulder.

  “You are correct; the joint is out of place. I’ll have to move the bone into the joint.”

  “It is not the shoulder that worries me as much as my head. I know a wound on the head bleeds more than the same would elsewhere, Mr. Jones, but I am dizzy. Light and loud noises give me an awful headache. It is difficult to hold up my head.”

  He unwrapped Mr. Darcy’s handkerchief from her head and handed it to Sarah. “The bleeding has stopped, but we will need to get this cleaned up.”

  After Sarah had pulled the drapes to darken the room, Mr. Jones lit a candle and held it before her face. Elizabeth squinted and pulled away.

  “You must open your eyes, Miss Elizabeth, and keep still. Focus on something across the room and pretend you are still looking at it even if I get in your way.”

  She followed his instructions.

  He moved the candle forward and back while looking deeply into her eyes, then he asked her to follow the flame with her eyes as he moved it this way and that. After checking her limbs and examining her bruises, he asked the others to hold her still as he repositioned the arm into the shoulder.

  ~%~

  A lady’s scream came from down the corridor. All three gentlemen jumped to their feet and stared at the door.

  Recalling that Miss Elizabeth had mentioned she thought her shoulder had come out of joint, he remembered when the same had happened to a boy he knew years ago and understood why she had hollered.

  Darcy placed a hand on Mr. Bennet’s shoulder and said, “I believe the doctor is setting the shoulder-joint to rights.”

  Mr. Bennet used his handkerchief to mop his forehead. “Mark my words for the future, gentlemen: A sick child is worse than having the same happen to yourself.”

  A while later, Mr. Jones joined them in the study. Darcy and Bingley made to leave to allow them privacy, but Mr. Bennet asked them to remain.

  “Miss Elizabeth’s bones are sound. I have realigned the arm into its socket and have wrapped it tightly. That is not what concerns me. I believe Miss Elizabeth’s nerves have been altered by the jolt to her head and spine, which has ultimately caused a headache and sensitivity to light and sound. The shock of this type of injury can penetrate deeply; for example, it has disturbed her balance, causing her to be vertiginous.”

  “Vertiginous?” Bingley asked, his eyes wide. “That does not sound good at all!”

  “It means Miss Elizabeth is dizzy, Bingley,” Darcy said.

  “I can never understand why people use such words that sound so threatening when they mean the same as simple ones. But, yes, Miss Elizabeth was having trouble standing when Darcy got her off the cliff, and she could not sit the horse by herself.”

  “Exactly.” Mr. Jones removed his glasses. “At times, I have seen these symptoms disappear quickly, but in other cases, they lasted a long time. Since Miss Elizabeth is quite healthy and strong, I hope it will be a smooth recovery, but I cannot rule out the alternative.”

  “Shall I call for my carriage then?” Mr. Bennet asked.

  Mr. Jones frowned deeply. “Miss Elizabeth has been moved a great deal since her fall. Of course, it was unavoidable since she had to be removed from danger, but I do not recommend she travel again so soon. I suggest she remain here at Netherfield for a few days.” He turned to Bingley. “Is there a bedchamber on this floor?”

  Bingley shook his head. “The guest bedchambers are one floor above, in the wing opposite this one.”

  “Good enough.”

  “But Mr. Jones, there are no ladies in residence at this time,” Bingley exclaimed. “My sisters will not join us until next week.”

  Mr. Jones looked at Mr. Bennet. “Miss Bennet asked if she might stay with Miss Elizabeth.”

  “It is fine with me,” Mr. Bennet answered. “In fact, it is probably out of my hands. I am certain Jane would not take no for an answer.”

  Bingley’s eyes brightened. “Miss Bennet is certainly welcome.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Anything to help in Miss Elizabeth’s recovery, of course.”

  “Will Miss Elizabeth be able to come down for meals?” Darcy asked in an attempt to point out to Bingley that with no other ladies present, Miss Bennet would not be able to leave the sick room unless Miss Elizabeth did. Whether his friend liked it or not, Darcy would make certain all remained within the bounds of propriety.

  “In a day or two, if all goes as I expect. Truly, it all depends on the results of my daily examinations.”

  “Perhaps you would like to stay over, as well, Mr. Bennet?” Bingley suggested.

  Darcy almost laughed out loud. Miss Bennet could come down for meals if her father was here.

  Mr. Bennet shook his head. “I will visit my daughters, but my estate needs my attention. I hope you do not mind, Mr. Bingley, but I fear the entire Bennet family will descend upon Netherfield before long, exploiting your hospitality. My wife and other daughters will insist on seeing Lizzy for themselves.”

  Mr. Jones’s eyes widened. “I am sorry, but I will have to limit your family’s visits, Mr. Bennet.” He hesitated and flushed bright red. “I am not sure how to say this without offending you, Mr. Bennet, but it is my place to protect my patient, so I must be blunt. Miss Elizabeth is sensitive to loud noise at the moment.”

  Perhaps the other daughters were very young and therefore noisy? Darcy had a sinking feeling that it was not the case, especially if they were all borne by the same wife. The eldest Miss Bennet had to be at least twenty years old.

  Mr. Bennet laughed. “You have not offended me, Jones. Jane and Elizabeth are ladies in every sense of the word, but I am quite familiar with my wife’s shortcomings. As for my younger daughters, it is my opinion that they are the silliest girls in England.” He paused. “You know as well as I do that the most difficult part of all this will be keeping Lizzy’s mind occupied so that she will not get out of bed. If she becomes restless, she just might walk the three miles home, even if we both tell her not to.”

  Darcy raised an eyebrow. He could not be serious. Then again, she had insisted she would walk two miles from Oakham Mount immediately after her accident.

  Mr. Jones chuckled and nodded. “Miss Elizabeth always has been my most challenging patient.” His brow furrowed in thought. “Is there a parlour or sitting room on the same floor as the guest chambers?”

  “The music room is in the opposite wing,” answered Bingley.

  “I will instruct Miss Bennet not to inform Miss Elizabeth for the time being, but if she insists on leaving her rooms, she can go to the music room for a change of scenery—with your permission, Mr. Bingley.” Bingley nodded, and Mr. Jones continued, “It is the best I can suggest at the present time.”

  “Capital!” Bingley exclaimed. “Darcy and I would be happy to entertain the ladies.”

  Bingley would be thrilled, that was obvious, but him?

  The connection he felt with Miss Elizabeth earlier was most likely the result of her situation, not the lady herself, but what if it was not?

  Darcy was destined to marry a lady of London’s upper ten thousand, one from a highly respected family, preferably whose father held a high-ranking title and had great wealth. He could never ally himself with a nobody from Hertfordshire. Even friendship was a stretch.

  Which reminded him… it was quite strange that Mr. Bennet, or anybody else, had yet to mention the risk of compromise. Perhaps the people of Hertfordshire were more tolerant than those of the ton and of Derbyshire?

  Darcy was called back to the present by Mr. Jones’s voicing his need to make another call, but he would stop on the way out to speak to the housekeeper and leave her some concoctions in case Miss Elizabeth’s pain increased or she developed a fever.

  Bingley excused himself to walk him out and speak to the housekeeper about making up two guest rooms, leaving Darcy alone with Mr. Bennet.

  “I see ink on the desk, but do you know where Mr. Bingley’s writing supplies are, Mr. Darcy
? I should send a note home so a truck can be packed for my girls.”

  “Certainly, sir.” He went around the desk and took out a sheet of paper.

  When Mr. Bennet was done, Darcy pulled the bell cord. A footman, who Mr. Bennet greeted by name, appeared and took the note.

  “It seems Mr. Bingley hired some of my tenants’ children to work for him,” Mr. Bennet said, staring at the door the footman had disappeared through. “Do you think it is safe to return to the parlour yet?”

  Darcy was not certain if it would be safe for him to be in Miss Elizabeth’s presence at all—ever. He should limit himself to his own rooms, Bingley’s study, and the library during her stay.

  “Mr. Jones was with us for at least a quarter of an hour and then another passed while you sent your note. I would think enough time has passed for you to return.”

  Mr. Bennet rose. “Thank you again, Mr. Darcy, for all you did for my Lizzy.”

  “You are welcome, Mr. Bennet. I would do the same for any one in such distress.”

  Mr. Bennet left the room.

  Darcy leaned back in his chair. It was true, he would do the same for any one. In fact, during his many journeys between London and Derbyshire, he had come across other people in need of assistance—perhaps they had not been in as dangerous a situation as Miss Elizabeth had been, but he had offered aid wherever he could.

  However, he had never felt an instant familiarity and rapport with any of them the way he had with her. It had been so strong, it was almost frightening.

  Perhaps once he had spent some time away from her, he would be able to see her again and prove to himself that it was, in fact, nothing extraordinary.

  Mr. Bennet opened the door again. “I seem to have gotten turned around. Which way is the parlour, Mr. Darcy?”

  Darcy sighed quietly. Apparently, he would have to prove it to himself without the benefit of time. It would be rude if did not go in to check on the injured lady after walking Mr. Bennet there.

  He rose from the chair and crossed the room. “I will go with you.”

  ~%~

  Finally, she was dressed again. That had been an adventure. Her mother would require her smelling salts when she found out Sarah had had to remove the sleeve of her gown and open up the seam on the shoulder so she could wear it without pushing her arm through. Her left arm was now bare and wrapped close to her body. A sheet had been folded in half and laid over her shoulder, then tied at the opposite side of her waist to cover her sufficiently. It reminded her of some drawings she had seen of Roman togas. She was not looking forward to getting undressed again once she reached her assigned rooms.

  Jane tucked a blanket around her. Sarah was out of the room, disposing of the basin and cloths Mr. Jones had used to clean her wounds. Elizabeth and Jane had gone out on the balcony for a few minutes, where Jane tried to shake out some of the sand from her hair, then plaited the length, pinning it up in a bun. They would have to wait to do a more thorough job until later, as well.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes. After all of Mr. Jones’s prodding and poking, and the effort it took to rid her of the dirt in her hair, she did not think her head could pound more painfully than it did at this moment.

  All she wanted to do is sleep. Mr. Jones had given her permission to do so as long as she was awakened every hour or so. However, the housekeeper had come in a moment ago and informed them that it would take some time before she could be shown to her chambers since the residence had been closed for more than a year and their rooms would need to be prepared.

  Napping in the chair would have to do for now.

  After a light knocking, the door opened, and in walked her father and Mr. Darcy.

  Elizabeth sighed. Perhaps a nap was not in order, after all. She tried to smile, though she knew it was a poor attempt.

  “Has Mr. Jones been in to see you, Papa?” Jane asked.

  “Yes, he has. It seems you both will be staying here for a few days. I have sent a note to Longbourn requesting a trunk be sent.”

  Elizabeth’s smile disappeared. She spoke softly, “Really, Papa, I do not see why I cannot recover at home. We would not even have to wait long—Mr. Darcy offered his carriage, did you not, sir?”

  Mr. Darcy clamped his hands behind him and raised his chin. “I apologize, Miss Elizabeth, but I will have to withdraw that offer. It was made before Mr. Jones forbade you from travelling any further than the floor above this one.”

  Good heavens. She and Jane were being forced to stay here with strangers for who knows how long. “I am sorry. If I did not have such an inquisitive nature, none of this would have happened. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy would not be inconvenienced by having to host us. We three would be happily at home right now.”

  Jane took her hand. “It was an accident, Lizzy. None of this is your fault.”

  She bowed her neck and brought her right hand up to her forehead. She had been wrong; her headache could get worse, after all.

  “Please excuse my outburst,” she whispered.

  “You are very tired, dear. We all understand,” Jane said.

  “Miss Bennet is correct,” Darcy said. “You need rest so that you can heal. The housekeeper does not have a room for you?”

  “There is one available two flights up, but Mr. Jones does not want my sister there,” Jane said. “It will be a few hours before a room is ready.”

  Both Mr. Darcy’s body and demeanour stiffened considerably. He bowed slightly, crossed the room, and was gone.

  Goodness! Had they insulted him in some way?

  Only ten minutes later, Mrs. Curtis and two footmen entered the room. “Your rooms are ready, Miss Elizabeth. Miss Bennet, your adjoining rooms will be prepared as quickly as possible. These footmen will assist you up the staircase. Miss Elizabeth, perhaps you can move into a different chair?”

  “A chair? Why?”

  “The men will carry the chair up the stairs and into your chambers, but it would be helpful if it were lighter than this wingchair.”

  Elizabeth gathered her strength, pushed the blanket aside, and rose to her feet. “I thank you, but I will get there under my own power.”

  As she began to walk towards the door, Jane came up to her side. “Take my arm, dear.”

  She did. They made quite the procession: she with her toga-like garment over her gown, holding onto Jane for dear life, their father walking close behind the two ladies, Sarah and Mrs. Curtis following him, and the two footman bringing up the rear.

  Jane switched to the other side so Elizabeth could hold onto the banister. As their father had done to get into the house, Jane wrapped her arm around Elizabeth’s waist and supported her up one set of stairs. As they stopped on the landing to rest, Elizabeth had to admit to herself that this might not have been as good an idea as she originally thought. If Jane had not been there, she never could have made it.

  At the top of the second part of the flight of stairs, Mrs. Curtis led them to the closest bedchamber. Elizabeth took a seat in a wingchair near the fireplace. There was a trace of something familiar in the air, but Elizabeth was too tired to puzzle it out. The dark wood and deep blue, brown, and green material on the windows and furnishings hinted that this room was decorated with a masculine taste in mind, but it made no difference to her; the bed was ready to occupy and in it she would go as soon as all these people left the room.

  Her father leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Sleep, Lizzy. Heal.”

  He turned to Jane. “Send a note at any time—day or night—if I am needed. I may not be able to return in the morning before Mr. Jones visits, so please ask him to stop at Longbourn to give me an update on Lizzy’s condition.”

  He said to both of them, “I will hold off your mother and sisters for as long as I can.”

  “Thank you, Papa,” the girls said in unison.

  He left the room. The footmen and housekeeper followed him.

  As soon as the door closed, Sarah and Jane helped undress her. Her head was so heavy now she needed
them both to get her into the bed.

  Elizabeth drifted to sleep… glorious, glorious sleep.

  CHAPTER 4

  Darcy’s boot steps echoed through the chamber as he paced the library, which, at the moment, was the only room in the house where he was assured to be left alone.

  In the few days they had been in residence, Bingley had not entered here once. Why would he? The room was empty except for two chairs, only one of which had been divested of its linen covering, a writing desk, which Darcy had already equipped with his own supplies for use during his stay, and a crate in the corner that had yet to be unpacked.

  The box contained books from London. He thought back to when he had entered his favourite bookshop with Bingley. His friend had walked directly to the counter and announced to the proprietor, “I will take one copy of every book you have in stock!” The poor bookshop owner had been very disappointed when Darcy scoffed then helped Bingley select his first installment of books.

  Darcy reached the wall, turned around, and began walking again. Gah! All he wanted right now was a bath. Yes, he had brushed himself off and shook some dirt out of his hair, but it had not been enough. It was an impossible wish. He had no rooms to retire to at the moment.

  He wondered if Simmons, his valet, needed help moving his things.

  He stopped short. What had he been thinking? He could not enter a lady’s dressing room! Even Simmons had arranged for a couple of maids to do the job of emptying his former dressing room while he cleaned and set up Darcy’s new one.

  Darcy looked at the writing desk. He had already detailed the work that needed to be done on the tenant farmhouses, which they had noted during their ride before discovering Miss Elizabeth.

  Should he write to his sister about the recent events?

  No, not yet. Not until he knew how Miss Elizabeth fared.

  He must do something or he would go mad.

  Mayhap he should seek out a footman to open the crate. He was already so grimy with dust from his ride and the earth that had fallen on him while he leaned over Miss Elizabeth in order to protect her from the landslide, he might as well stack books on a few shelves.