by J Dawn King
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth continued digging ever deeper into the wound, looking for bits of fabric and metal, “you appear to be holding up. Before I rinse the wound with spirits, would you like a bit more of my bitter tea to sustain you?” She removed the cloth from his mouth so he could respond.
“I am well, Miss Elizabeth. Please, continue.” Elizabeth could see the beads of sweat on his upper lip and hear the pain in his voice. There was much to admire and respect about this man.
Three things happened at once. Elizabeth packed towels under Mr. Darcy’s arm and poured the whisky generously over both bullet holes, Mr. Darcy sucked in his breath and groaned deeply around the cloth she had wedged back in his mouth, and Colonel Fitzwilliam tried to enter the room without washing. The uproar from the doorway was astounding. The battle-hardened officer stood toe-to-toe against the aged, wheezing, sword-bearing butler. Gideon and Gabriel, though young in years, had known the Colonel for a long while. They recognized that he was a man used to having his way. Both chuckled, as did Georgiana. Colonel Fitzwilliam towered over Mr. Burton and certainly outweighed him by a large amount. However, the elderly man won the moment as shockingly, Georgiana spoke up boldly. “Richard, you had best throw down your weapons and surrender as you will not win this particular battle.” The Colonel’s eyes moved, looking severely into the face of the butler to gaze softly at his young cousin. Elizabeth felt Mr. Darcy’s arm shaking, in fact, his whole body was shaking, bringing immediate concern to all who held him tight. It only took a moment until all holding him realized he was shaking in mirth, not pain. Elizabeth removed the cloth from between his teeth and begged Georgiana to roll a clean one.
“Yes, Richard,” said Darcy, his speech slurred from the laudanum. However, it was said with a sarcastic tone that Elizabeth had not heard from him before, “it would not do for one of England’s finest to escape injury on the Continent to receive injury at home. Nor would it be wise to tax Miss Elizabeth’s healing abilities with more than one injured victim at a time.”
Grumbling, Colonel Fitzwilliam moved back out of the doorway to the table that Mrs. Nicholls had placed in the hallway. It contained a pitcher and bowl of clean water, soap, and a towel. The Colonel did as directed and then held his hands up in front of Mr. Burton’s face for inspection. Once Mr. Burton stepped aside and allowed him to pass, he strode with confident strides towards the table.
“Well, Darce, you got yourself in the middle of a muddle this time.” He stopped and surveyed Mr. Darcy’s arm and the care being given to it. He looked to Georgiana, “Careful, there, poppet, you would not want to rub those furrows off that high brow. Might be none of his friends would recognize him.” The Colonel chuckled to himself, but Elizabeth looked up and saw the serious concern in his eyes.
“What has been done about George, Richard?” Mr. Darcy grimaced, but his need for information outweighed any other concern.
“Darce, Georgiana, I spoke with the constable and Wickham will be treated like a highwayman and is already headed to his grave in a field reserved for criminals and those without means.”
At this, Mr. Darcy interrupted the Colonel. Surprisingly, with his weakened state, his voice was firm and strong. “No, Richard, he needs to be taken to Pemberley and buried there. As much as I detest what he has done, especially to Georgie, he was my father’s son.”
The Colonel knew better than to argue with his cousin. “It will be as you wish.”
“Richard, his family, the Wickhams, are caring for an estate in Ireland. My steward at Pemberley has the directions to contact them. Please, see that they are notified. They are good people who did not deserve a son like George.”
His cousin, Darcy, was a much better man than he, as he, himself, would not have hesitated to dump him in an unmarked grave. “The constable will be stopping by along with the magistrate either later this afternoon or on the morrow. I shall send a letter to his commanding officer, Colonel Forster, with the details of this incident along with a letter to my parents requesting their presence. I shall leave it up to you both whether you want Aunt Catherine informed at this time.” After noting the displeasure on the faces of both his cousins, he decided to wait to contact their aunt. “One other thing you should be aware of,” he hesitated as if he was going to reveal a sordid detail that would be worse than having their bossy, intimidating aunt on the premises, “I happened by Darcy House early this morning only to come face to face with your surgeon. The good doctor was calling to take his leave to attend his daughter during her confinement. He will not be returning to London for at least a month and wished you both well.”
To Elizabeth, this was distressing news. She had been hoping to send for someone more knowledgeable to help Mr. Darcy. It appeared the news was distressing to Mr. Darcy as well for he bellowed, “Richard! You were in my cellars again were you not?”
Apparently humbled, Colonel Fitzwilliam would not meet Mr. Darcy’s eyes. Then he looked up and Elizabeth spotted the merriment on his face. “Now, Darce, you would not begrudge me a bottle of your fine brandy, would you? After all, it worked to our advantage. You see, I shared that bottle this morning with Colonel Forster, the commanding officer of the militia stationed in Meryton. It was he that informed me that Wickham was here, close to you and Georgie. I immediately asked for a furlough and left, riding as fast as possible. It appears that I came just in time. I cannot imagine you truly regret sacrificing that one bottle, Darce. Truly?”
Mr. Darcy let out a huff and let his impertinent cousin off the hook. During the discussion, Elizabeth had John Coachman hold a fresh towel over the wound while she threaded the needle. She then caught the attention of Mrs. Nicholls, requesting that rooms be prepared for the Darcy relatives. Mrs. Nicholls left to see to the task. Who knew, at this point, what Miss Bingley would say and do over these arrangements being made without her direction, however, Elizabeth felt that Miss Bingley was the least of her concerns at this moment.
“Miss Darcy, would you please put the cloth in your brother’s mouth?” She heard Mr. Darcy’s faint whisper of “I love you, Georgie” just before he bit down on the rolled towel. Georgiana pulled her hand back and stroked his hair, whispering back that she loved him as well. Holding the threaded needle up to the light to make sure there were no knots or twists, she looked up to Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I know that we have not been properly introduced. Colonel Fitzwilliam, I believe?” At his nod she continued, “Please, do inform our host of the arrangements being made that will impact him and his household.” Turning to Mr. Darcy’s valet, she directed, “Mr. Parker,” at which he interrupted with “just Parker, miss”. “Parker,” she acquiesced, “Please, see that all bedding in Mr. Darcy’s room is spotlessly clean and that the maid has cleaned all surfaces. Also, please ask that a basin and washstand similar to the one Mr. Burton has outside this door is put outside Mr. Darcy’s door. I assume that I can entrust you with seeing that no person enters that room without washing first?”
He immediately agreed. Her commands were given in a soft, but firm tone and were not in any way unkind. He had heard the malicious speculation and whispers coming from the Bingley sisters about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but he, personally, could see no evidence of it. He left to see to his duties.
“Are you ready, Mr. Darcy?” she patted his elbow one last time as she awaited his nod. He took a deep breath. At his nod, she inserted the needle at the back of his arm for the first stitch. Georgiana gulped and Mr. Darcy’s body jerked. The footman and coachman held on tight. It would take many such sutures to close the wounds.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire
The minutes seemed to crawl by as Elizabeth placed one stitch after another. She counted each suture aloud as she reassured those gathered that they were closer and closer to the finish. Mr. Darcy had to be praised for holding himself still and not fighting against the servants who held him. Georgiana, too, deserved praise for her fortitude and Elizabeth whispered to her continually how pr
oud she was of the young girl. She felt that she was seeing Georgiana’s true personality, her true self.
Finally, she proclaimed it the last stitch and she tied it off quickly. Giving the wound at the front and back of his arm a quick wipe of soap and water and a dab more of the whisky, she wrapped Mr. Darcy’s arm with a clean bandage. Not knowing if he had lost consciousness, she whispered to Georgiana that she hoped Mr. Darcy was pleased with the initial’s “GAD”, for Georgiana Anne Darcy, stitched on the front of his arm and “EAB”, for Elizabeth Anne Bennet, on the back. She got a faint grin from Miss Darcy, but Mr. Darcy chuckled and told them both that he would be proud to wear such a scar for a lifetime. He was conscious. Mr. Darcy started to rise on his own and Elizabeth put a strong hand on his shoulder at the same time that John Coachman’s large hand bore down. “You will require help, sir, to reach your room.” It was a statement, not a request for agreement from him. He complied and allowed the footmen to assist him to his room.
Parker had done as requested and the bed chamber was spotless. He stood at the doorway and directed Mr. Darcy be placed in a chair next to the bed. There, with the help of Gideon, he removed his master’s boots, pants, and shirt. He had taken it upon himself to remove the left sleeve of Mr. Darcy’s nightshirt so that his dressing could be changed with the least amount of disturbance.
Down in the dining room, Elizabeth cleaned her tools and repacked her case. She observed the maids removing the used towels, cloths, and bowls and other servants wiping down the table and returning the chairs to their places. Mr. Burton stepped into the room, having replaced the sword back above the mantel in the library. “Miss, Colonel Fitzwilliam requests the presence of yourself and Miss Darcy in the master’s study, if you please.” Elizabeth nodded and after following Georgiana to the wash basin to clean up, she put her arm through her young nursing assistant’s and they left the room. They were almost across the hallway when Miss Bingley called to them while descending the stairs.
“What is the meaning of this!” she demanded. Georgiana could not stop the chuckle as she realized how much Miss Bingley sounded like her aunt, Lady Catherine. While Elizabeth did not understand the reason for the chuckle, she certainly was not surprised by Miss Bingley’s displeasure in seeing her on the premises. Mr. Bingley must have heard his sister’s voice as he came out of his study to intercept his sister.
“Caroline, Mr. Darcy was seriously injured, so the Darcys and their cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam will be staying here. Miss Elizabeth will be seeing to his care as Darcy’s surgeon is away. Mrs. Nicholls has already seen to their rooms, as well as to the rooms for Lord and Lady Matlock, should they arrive tomorrow. You need not bother yourself.” He turned from his irate sister and, extending his arm towards the study door, indicated that the two ladies should precede him. Miss Bingley was not invited to attend.
“Ladies, please have a seat.”After closing the door, Mr. Bingley sat behind the desk while Colonel Fitzwilliam stood next to it. Mr. Bingley looked to both Miss Darcy and Miss Elizabeth and regretted what he was about to say. “Colonel Fitzwilliam expects to be meeting soon with the magistrate and would like to hear your accounts of what happened. We both are deeply sorry that you need to recall something so upsetting; however, it might make things go more smoothly. Colonel, please proceed.”
The Colonel cleared a throat that was suddenly choked with emotion. “Georgie, first, I must start by telling you how proud I am of you. When I rode up and saw you lying on the ground, I swear that my heart almost stopped.” He unknowingly put his hand to his chest and approached his cousin, kneeling at her feet and grasping her hands in both of his. They were strong hands that showed the evidence of battle and hardship; large, capable hands that made Georgiana’s look so small. “My dear girl, I need to know how you are. What you witnessed… well… you know that I never liked George and I will not pretend tender feelings for him now that he is gone. However, I know that at one time he truly seemed to care for you.”
Mr. Bingley, realizing that these were extremely personal family matters, chose to quietly remove himself from the room.
“Richard,” Georgiana spoke up even as she continued with her eyes downcast. “Elizabeth has proven to be a trusted friend. In the short time we have known each other, I have been able to share with her the events at Ramsgate. She showed only kindness to me and I consider her a friend. You need not have any caution in speaking in front of her about George.”
“Miss Elizabeth, excuse me, but do you mind if I call you Miss Elizabeth as the others do?” She readily agreed. “There are not words… or, at least I do not have the words to express the thanks of the whole Fitzwilliam family for the deeds you have performed on this day. For too many years, men and women of our circle, old and young, have sought the attention of my family by trying to perform favors in hopes that greater favors would be returned to them. My cousin Darcy and I, as Georgiana’s guardians, have had to learn caution as some have even tried to go through her to get to Darcy; in particular the fair gender. To have someone, with no ulterior motives, treat my cousins with the kindness and skill you have shown with no hope of personal or material gain is restoring to my tired, jaded soul. So, thank you. From my whole family, we thank you.”
“I deeply appreciate your kind words, Colonel Fitzwilliam.” With a mischievous glint in her eyes and a raised brow she added, “However, upon the acquaintance of only a few moments, how certain are you that I am, indeed, not a fortune hunter?” The Colonel was looking uncomfortable until he saw the twinkle in her hazel eyes. “You may be assured that I am not a hunter of fortune nor am I inclined to try to take advantage of my friends. I am content with my circumstances, which I willingly give Georgiana permission to share with you. If you both would excuse me, please, I need to check on our patient.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam jumped to his feet, though he retained his hold on Georgiana’s right hand. “Certainly, Miss Elizabeth, though, assuage my curiosity about one point.” She inclined her head for him to go on. “Your skills in the art of healing and surgery are as good as the best I have seen on the battlefield. Where did you learn this?”
“For five years, I traveled with my uncle and aunt to places as far away as India, Spain, Greece, and Egypt. Due to an earlier family tragedy, where I lost four of my siblings to smallpox, I resolved to study healing. While in India, my aunt and I were in a large open market when we heard the scream of a lad, not much younger than I. The boy had been badly injured by a runaway merchant’s cart and was bleeding quite profusely. The weather in India is hot and humid and disease and poisons of the blood are particularly deadly. One of the doctors that helped teach me these skills shunned the use of leeches or bleeding a patient to rid the body of poison. He explained that it seemed to leave the body too weak to fight the infection. The market was close to where we were staying, so I quickly went to the boy and tried to stop the bleeding with pressure, as I had seen was effective before. My aunt sent someone for the doctor, who was not able to arrive quickly. We took him to our home and, since I had assisted the surgeon once before in repairing a wound, I cleaned and stitched the boy’s wounds in a similar manner to Mr. Darcy. The servants that accompanied the boy brought his mother to the house. I did not meet the boy’s father, as my time was taken up with his son. The boy was the heir. In fact, he was their only child. It took one week for the fevers and infection to leave the lad. In time, he was able to return to the vigorous, active life that all young gentlemen should enjoy at that age. I am hoping that with the same type of care, Mr. Darcy will do the same. He is just as important to his family as that boy was to his. I will try to do my best. Now, if you will excuse me please?”
Elizabeth was stopped on her way out of the study by a very worried Mr. Bingley. He was deeply concerned for his good friend and upset that this had befallen both Mr. and Miss Darcy. His agitation was reflected in his continuous pacing up and down the hallway. He stopped when he saw her and inquired if there was anything additional needed for
the injured gentleman upstairs. “Miss Elizabeth, you cannot know all that man has done for me. He was a friend to me at Cambridge when his peers shunned me because of my background in trade. He has given me fine counsel in matters of both a personal and business nature. I will never be able to repay the debt I owe him, so the least I can do is whatever I can to help him and his family right now. How I wish it were me laying upstairs and not him.”
“Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth gently put her hand on his arm, “I am certain that both Mr. and Miss Darcy are grateful for the assistance you have already provided. Your staff has been remarkable in following through with every request and there is no reason to believe that will change. Tomorrow, we believe that Colonel Fitzwilliam’s family will arrive and this will create more work for your servants. It might do well for you to have Miss Bingley speak with your housekeeper to arrange matters, though I do believe Mrs. Nicholls already has things well in hand. Mr. Darcy’s bandages will need changed at least every two hours and his valet and I will administer medicines as they are needed. For now, I believe that the most Mr. Darcy should have is as much tea and cool water as he can drink and some broth to eat. I would expect that Georgiana will be taking her meals on a tray with me in his room; as will Parker. You would need to speak with Colonel Fitzwilliam about his preferences. Mr. Bingley, please know that I am truly grateful for your kind hospitality.”
