A ghastly whiteness overspread Elizabeth’s cheek. “I... I see.”
“Take heart,” Mrs. Reynolds said quietly. “Mr. Darcy is strong, and I am certain that, given time, he will make a full recovery.”
Overhearing the advice, Mr. Camryn added, “Mrs. Darcy, your husband is young and strong. It is much too early to despair. Even so, there is not much I can do to help him until he wakes.”
“What about his ribs? I have often seen broken ribs wrapped,” Mr. Adams said.
“I will do that tomorrow. Hopefully, by then Mr. Darcy will be awake and can tell me if he is in pain.” He smiled benevolently at Elizabeth. “I intend to stay at Pemberley until your husband improves, Mrs. Darcy. Do you have a room I might use?”
“Certainly,” she said, as though in a daze. “And if you wish, a tray with hot tea and a light meal can easily be provided.”
“That is kind of you. I have not eaten since this morning.”
“Mrs. Reynolds, will you see to Mr. Camryn?”
The physician interrupted, “First, let me inform the others of what we have discussed.”
As he and the housekeeper moved toward the sitting room, Elizabeth added, “Mr. Camryn, as a girl I helped the local apothecary in Meryton. Consequently, she left me her book of remedies. One recipe in particular is for a wonderful salve for aches and pains. I have a jar in my room.”
Seeing hope in the young wife’s eyes, the physician smiled kindly. “It certainly could do no harm. Rub Mr. Darcy’s arms and shoulders, being careful not to do so too vigorously. At least, not until we are certain what is or is not broken.”
Elizabeth nodded, blinking back tears. As soon as he left, she sent Mr. Adams to fetch the salve. Then she rushed to the bed and carefully sat beside William. Tenderly, she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead and placed a soft kiss there. “I am here, my darling.”
Through silent tears she addressed the valet when he returned to hand her the salve. “Mr. Adams, please bring a bowl of warm water. I wish to clean my husband’s face.”
Once the water and a cloth had been brought, she addressed William again, saying, “Your face is so dusty, sweetheart. I cannot bear to see you this way.”
Olivia had slipped back into the room knowing her husband would tell her later all that Camryn had said; for now, she was more worried about her niece. Having witnessed the tender display, she could not hold back her tears and when Joseph re-entered the room, she turned into his embrace, hiding her face in his chest. The poignancy of the scene was broken almost immediately, for Georgiana came back into the room spewing nonsense.
“I will send an express to the earl tomorrow morning. He will know the best course of action to take. In any event, I mean to see to it that Fitzwilliam is not left alone, not for a single minute.”
“Georgiana, you are not in charge,” Joseph stated firmly.
Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. “Am I the only one concerned about what is best for my brother?”
“We all are,” Olivia retorted.
Then Joseph addressed his other niece. “With your permission, Elizabeth, I will send an express to my brother tomorrow and one to Richard. And I would like to ask Mr. Graham to accompany Richard to Pemberley.”
Elizabeth, who had ignored Georgiana’s outburst, stilled from gently cleaning William’s face. “I should appreciate your help in notifying everyone, Uncle. And I would feel better knowing Will’s physicians are consulting with one another.”
“Of course, Mr. Graham should be consulted,” Georgiana retorted, her voice rising indignantly, “but I imagine that the earl will insist on transporting Fitzwilliam to London. Why should you have Mr. Graham set out for Pemberley when Brother will be taken to Town?”
“What in the world makes you think that would benefit Fitzwilliam?” Joseph snapped.
“Because all the best doctors are in London.”
Though she never stopped caring for William, Elizabeth said flatly, “My husband will not be jostled about in a coach in his condition. Not as long as I live. Any specialist he may need will come to Pemberley, no matter the cost.”
Georgiana huffed, “We shall see,” and stalked out of the room.
Olivia returned to a subject still on her mind. “Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam will need you when he awakens, and you will need to be well-rested. Joseph and I will sit with him tonight and call you if there are any signs of change.”
Respect forbade downright contradiction, so as Elizabeth dripped the cloth in the water and wrung it out again, she replied, “That is kind of you, but I shall not sleep anyway. It is the two of you who should get some rest; you both must be exhausted.” She glanced at Adams. “And you should as well, Mr. Adams. I am sure my husband will need your services when he awakens.”
“Elizabeth is right, Livy, you do need to rest.”
As all three walked out of the bedroom, Mrs. Reynolds was coming back into the sitting room. Seeing them, she stopped abruptly.
“Miss Darcy is in her bedroom. Forgive me for saying this, but I would give anything if she were still in London.”
“Do not apologise. Those are our thoughts exactly,” Joseph said.
“We were just coming to find you,” Olivia added. “I told Elizabeth that Joseph and I would sit with Fitzwilliam tonight, but she refused, and she dismissed Mr. Adams, as well.”
“I am not surprised. Go and rest. I shall sit with her the first half of the night, and Mr. Adams, if you will replace me after midnight?”
William’s valet nodded and went to leave. Then he stopped and, with a heart-rending expression on his face, ventured, “Will you send for me if there is any change? I doubt I shall sleep much.”
“I will.”
As Adams left, Mrs. Reynolds addressed the Fitzwilliams. “Rest assured that I shall keep good watch over Mr. Darcy, as will Mr. Adams.”
“We will retire then, hopefully to be of service tomorrow. Please wake us if anything changes, no matter the hour.”
“You may depend on me.”
The housekeeper waited until they were completely out of sight. Then taking a moment to control her growing fears, she walked into the bedroom. Elizabeth was still absently running a warm cloth over William’s neck and shoulders, all the while talking to him as though he could hear.
When opportunity arose, she said, “Mrs. Darcy, I hope you will let me sit with you tonight.”
Elizabeth slowed her attentions, though her eyes never left William’s face. “I do appreciate your concern, truly I do, but I wish to be alone with my husband tonight.”
“Then please allow me to occupy the sitting room. That way, if help should be needed, you have only to call out, and I will fetch Mr. Camryn.”
“I... I suppose that is sensible. I do not mean to be unfeeling. I know how much you love Will, but I really need this time alone.”
“I understand, ma’am. If there is anything I can do, please call on me. I shall not sleep tonight.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.”
Wearily, the housekeeper proceeded to one of the two chairs left in the sitting room. She removed her shoes and sat down in one, propping her feet on the other. Both chairs were upholstered with thick cushions, and she settled gratefully into the softness. Her body was drained, her heart broken, yet she could not give in to despair, for she had duties to perform. Tonight that entailed listening for Elizabeth’s summons and whilst executing that responsibility she intended to pray harder than she had ever prayed in her life.
FINALLY ALONE WITH William, Elizabeth gently applied the salve to the dark purple bruises beginning to manifest on his left arm and shoulder. Now that everyone had left, she felt free to cry, and she did—silently. On occasion, a pitiful sob would escape, and she would turn her head and cover her mouth. Mrs. Harris, Meryton’s one-time apothecary, had theorised that people in William’s condition could hear what was happening, even if they could not communicate. That realisation came from a patient who told of hearing her family p
lan her funeral while she was unresponsive; thus, Elizabeth strived to keep her conversation encouraging.
“Darling, this salve helped me tremendously when I twisted my ankle, and I pray it brings relief to you. It contains lavender and may make you smell like me.” She tried to laugh, but did not succeed. “Somehow I do not think you will mind. You always said that you love the scent of my hair.”
Her cheerfulness ebbed with her next words. “Do you remember what you said to me when you gave me my wedding ring? You told me that these words spoke of your undying love.” She repeated them slowly, “First. Last. Only. Always. And you vowed to love me forever.”
Elizabeth swallowed, though a large lump in her throat made it difficult. “Surely you know by now, my darling Will, that I love you exactly the same. There shall never be any man in my life but you. So, you see, you simply must—” Her voice cracked; still she had to finish. “You simply must get well, because I need you.” She leaned over, softly kissing his lips. Then peering at his face for any sign of recognition, she concluded, “And, most importantly, our child needs you.”
Gently, she laid her ear against his chest. Listening to the steady drumbeat of his heart gave her hope, and she prayed silently.
Come back to me, Will. Please come back to me.
IT WAS NEAR MIDNIGHT when Olivia Fitzwilliam stepped into the sitting room to find Mrs. Reynolds with her head down in prayer. Turning to leave, the housekeeper spoke before she could.
“There is no need to go, Mrs. Fitzwilliam.”
William’s aunt turned back to the faithful servant who was now attempting to stand. “Please do not get up on my account. I did not wish to disturb you, it is just that I could not sleep, so I decided to check... ” Olivia glanced toward the bedroom.
“You are not disturbing me. I am glad for the company,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “Besides, I have been sitting in one position too long.” Looking toward the hall door, she teased half-heartedly, “I am surprised, though, that your husband is not with you.”
“Poor Joseph must be exhausted, for he did not wake. Normally, he sleeps with one eye open.”
“If he is that tired, then he should rest. But you should be resting, too.”
Olivia smiled. “And who are you to lecture on rest?”
Mrs. Reynolds shrugged sheepishly. “Mr. Adams will be here shortly. Then I shall take my turn.”
“How is my nephew? Has anything changed?”
“I looked in on Mr. Darcy less than an hour ago, and he is the same.”
“And Elizabeth?”
“Mrs. Darcy has talked to him the better part of the night. Only recently she quietened, so I slipped to the door to find out why. I found her lying beside him, holding his hand. She may not be asleep, but her eyes were closed.”
The last few words were accompanied by a small sob, so Olivia pulled the housekeeper into her arms. “There, there. We must have faith.” She patted Mrs. Reynolds on the back. “You and I must be strong. Elizabeth needs us now more than ever.”
“I feel awful breaking down like this.”
“It shows how deeply you love my nephew and Elizabeth. Let us, you and I, resolve to cry on each other’s shoulders throughout this ordeal. Then we shall be able to bear it and stay strong in front of the others.”
Mrs. Reynolds was nodding her agreement when Mr. Adams appeared at the door. Stepping out of Olivia’s embrace, the housekeeper greeted him.
“Mr. Adams, are you ready?”
“I am.”
“Mrs. Darcy wishes to be alone with Mr. Darcy, so I convinced her to allow us to sit in here. That way, if she calls for help, we will be available instantly.”
“I am glad you were able to convince her, for that is the goal—to keep watch over them.”
“Mrs. Darcy has lain down beside her husband. I think she may be asleep, but I am not certain. In any event, just listen for any sign that you are needed.”
“I understand.”
“I shall see you at dawn then. Be sure to summon me if anything changes. I am occupying the blue room tonight, just in case.”
Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Fitzwilliam disappeared into the hallway. After a last squeeze of one another’s hands, they separated, heading to their own beds.
Chapter 37
Pemberley
Morning, in shades of yellow and orange, flooded the world with a soft golden light, but most of Pemberley’s occupants took no note of it, for grief covered the great house like a shroud. Servants walked about in silent disbelief that such a catastrophe could have happened to their master, a man known for his honesty and good works. Word of his injury had already spread through the greater part of the village of Lambton, and the vicar and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Moody, arrived shortly after daylight. The elderly couple was immediately escorted upstairs and were the first allowed to see Mr. Darcy that morning.
Their arrival corresponded with the departure of the troops under Colonel North. Forced to go on to London, per his orders, the colonel had directed Sergeant Thaggart to stay behind at Pemberley to await Colonel Fitzwilliam. Never doubting that his colleague would come as soon as he got word, he felt there was no need for Thaggart to meet Richard along the road. Thus, with heartfelt wishes for Mr. Darcy’s full recovery and gratitude for Pemberley’s hospitality, the soldiers departed.
Upstairs, Mr. Camryn had risen early as well. Eager to find his friend alert, upon entering the bedroom he was disappointed to discover that William’s condition had not changed. Frowning when the smelling salts again failed to elicit a reaction, he was filled with alarm. All his studies with regard to head injuries suggested that continued unconsciousness was indicative of an injury more serious in nature; thus, whilst re-inspecting his patient for signs of internal bleeding and other possible complications, Camryn mused in grave thought of what to say to Mrs. Darcy. Having asked the rest of the family to wait in the sitting room, Elizabeth stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes dilated with fear.
Mr. Camryn sighed deeply before speaking. “Mrs. Darcy, let us step into the sitting room, so that I may address everyone at once.”
Elizabeth searched his face for a sign of what he might say. Finding none, she swallowed dryly. “Of course.”
As they entered the room, all conversation halted. Camryn cleared his throat and focused on Olivia. Surmising what he wanted, she moved to stand by Elizabeth.
“I wish to be totally honest, so there are no misunderstandings. I had thought to find Mr. Darcy awake this morning. That he is not indicates that the injury to his head is much more severe than I had hoped.”
A stifled cry brought every eye to Elizabeth, who turned into her aunt’s arms. Georgiana had begun to cry silently, so Mrs. Reynolds handed her a handkerchief and patted her arm sympathetically.
Uneasily, Mr. Camryn continued. “In my years as a physician, I have seen patients recover from this type of injury—often with miraculous results.” He paused. “But, unfortunately, I have seen many who did not.
“Nevertheless, I am hopeful that Mr. Darcy will recover because he is young and in good health. If he were not, he would not have survived this long. And, since he is a good man, well-respected and generous to a fault, I have faith that Our Lord will consider this when we petition Him for a recovery.”
Joseph replied, “Thank you for caring for my nephew and reminding us that while man is limited, God is not. Many prayers are being said on his behalf, and we trust that God will spare him.”
“I pray for that as well,” Camryn replied. “However, all we can do at this point is to keep him comfortable and carry on as normally as possible. Eat, even if you are not hungry, and rest as much as you are able. Be assured that you will be needed once he wakens, so keep up your strength. If you wish to help keep watch over him, do so in shifts, just as you did last night. No one can, or should, take full responsibility for his care.” The last was said with a glance to Elizabeth, who still stood in Olivia’s embrace. “Should you try, you will drain yourself and b
e of no use when he needs you the most.”
When nothing more was said, Mrs. Reynolds spoke, “Cook arose early to feed Colonel North and his men, and the dining room is still filled with enough food to feed every soldier in England. I am certain that she would be pleased if you were to partake of the fare.”
“I should be glad to,” Camryn said, “and I urge everyone to do the same.” As the room emptied, Elizabeth stepped out of her aunt’s embrace, moving blindly toward the bedroom.
“You really need to eat something, Mrs. Darcy,” Mr. Camryn said.
She stopped at the door, strangling a fierce tide of grief that welled up within her. “I... I am not hungry at present. Please enjoy your meal without me.”
Joseph Fitzwilliam went to her then, grasping her forearms gently so she had to face him. “Elizabeth, dearest, I have no doubt that your appetite is lacking. I have none, either. Still, we must keep up our strength for Fitzwilliam’s sake. I insist that you let me sit with him while you eat, for I ate with Colonel North and his men earlier.”
Realising that she could not win the argument, Elizabeth said, “Give me just a moment, please.”
At his nod, Elizabeth went into the bedroom and straight to William. Sitting on the side of the bed, she tried but could not stop the sense of panic that filled her heart. Will he survive until I return?
After kissing his lips, she tried to memorise the details of his face. His brows, black as coal, were now in stark contrast to his face, which was colourless. Equally dark eyelashes—eyelashes her mother had once declared were too long to be wasted on a man—fell upon his pale skin. Mesmerised, his handsome, straight nose drew her attention to a feature that she had always thought perfectly formed—the small indentation at the centre of his well-shaped lips. Longing to see his mouth loosen in an exultant smile as it had whenever he caught sight of her, she was lost in reminiscences when a cough broke the silence in the room.
Knowing that her time alone with her husband had come to an end, she said, “Uncle Joseph is going to stay with you, my darling, but only until I return. I will be back very soon, and I shall read to you then. I promise. I love you, Will.”
Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple Page 61
