by Lory Lilian
Even worse for Elizabeth’s peace of mind was the revelation that Mr. Gardiner himself had travelled to Town to carry the news of the accident and had remained there to return with Mr. Darcy. She desperately struggled to find a reasonable explanation for such a strange event, but she was exhausted, and her mind refused to provide the answers to so many questions. There was nothing to do but wait—and spend time at Cassandra’s side, together with Georgiana and Mrs. Spencer.
Unfortunately, Cassandra did not awaken, and her state showed little improvement. As the doctor predicted, she had developed a high fever, and they watched helplessly as her body shivered almost continuously despite the laudanum and their united efforts at cooling her hands, cheeks, and forehead. Yet, it was encouraging that Cassandra did move and speak although she remained unconscious. In truth, her movement was a result of the high fever, and the words she muttered were unintelligible. Nevertheless, it was better than they had feared the previous evening.
Elizabeth remained in the room, lost in her thoughts, watching as her friend struggled and whispered the same name: “David.” Elizabeth could no longer bear it; if Darcy brought the colonel with him when he returned, she would have an honest, forthright talk with the colonel.
“Miss Bennet, if you do not get some rest this instant, I will ask Mr. Bingley to see that the servants tie you to your bed,” said Mrs. Spencer, entering the room. “You ate nothing at all! This is not to be borne, and I will surely not accept it! I will not have you ill; I cannot bear to have two ladies suffering.” Her decided voice admitted no resistance, and Elizabeth could only smile back at her.
“You must not fear, Mrs. Spencer, I will not become ill. I simply cannot eat anything. As for sleep, it is out of the question for now.”
“Out of the question? Young lady, do you know to whom you are talking? I have asked that a bath and some food be prepared for you in your room, and then you will go and sleep for at least a couple of hours. Only then, if you wish, may you come and take my place while I sleep a little. I will send Georgiana to rest too, and I will not allow any of you to disobey my order. Do I make myself clear?”
Her severity was half in jest, yet she was not joking. Even more, Elizabeth could see the reason and wisdom in Mrs. Spencer’s demands. And in truth, she dearly longed for a warm bath.
“Very well, Mrs. Spencer. I can see I stand no chance of winning this argument.”
“Indeed you do not. So let us not fight in vain.”
***
After half an hour spent in the tub, surrounded by hot water and immersed in her thoughts, Elizabeth felt significantly better; her spirits rose as her body relaxed, and she was certain she would need no sleep at all—only a few moments of rest on the bed. All would be well; her hopes were stronger than at any time in the last few days. And Darcy would return soon; she could sense that. If he were only there, half of her worries would vanish, and the other half would be easier to bear.
She allowed her thoughts to fly to him and her memories to recollect the comfort and safety she felt in his arms. Her mind was still full of him as her exhausted body claimed its long-needed rest. His face was the last thing she “saw” before she fell asleep, and she smiled in her dreams, her heart melting from love and longing.
A few hours later when she opened her eyes, struggling to awaken and understand where she was, Darcy’s face was the first thing she saw. She certainly was still dreaming, and she closed her eyes, desiring the image to linger. But his lips gently pressed upon her eyelashes to open them, as his fingers caressed her hair; his scent, more powerful than any essence, and the tenderness of his touch proved to her—again—that no mere dream was as wonderful as the reality of his presence.
He was finally there—and all would be well!
Chapter 20
“You are here,” she whispered as her arms encircled his neck.
“I am here…And I will not leave again—not without you.”
Her smile quickly turned to a worried frown. “Cassandra…”
“Yes, I know. I returned as soon as it was possible.”
“But you are late. Mrs. Spencer arrived much earlier. Why are you so late? And the colonel? Has he returned with you?”
“My cousin is here as well. I left him speaking to Bingley. He was shocked when we learned about the accident and pressed Bingley for more details. In truth, we were both shocked and out of our minds with worry during our return journey—David, it seemed, more so than I. Mr. Gardiner could hardly speak reasonably with us—
“But why were you so late?”
“I will explain everything when you are more rested—maybe tomorrow. You do not need more to worry you now. Mrs. Spencer told me you spent all your time nursing Cassandra and hardly rested at all these last few days. There are two doctors taking care of her now, and you must think of yourself. You need to sleep until morning. I am sorry to have been so selfish in my desire to see you that I woke you.”
She attempted to protest, but he gently pushed her down against the pillows and wrapped her in the bedclothes; his lips pressed against her forehead as his fingers caressed her hair.
“Mr. Darcy, I am surprised and displeased to see how little consideration you give to your promises,” she said teasingly when he rose from her bed, obviously preparing to return to his room.
He looked puzzled, and she continued, a smile lightening her weary face.
“You promised you would not leave again without me, yet you are leaving just now.”
Darcy returned to sit and lifted her hand to place a soft kiss on her palm. “My love, it is quite unfair of you to tease me so. You know I am reluctant to leave you, but I cannot possibly remain in your room with a house full of people wandering the halls. If someone should see me…”
Elizabeth’s smile suddenly vanished and her face became solemn.
“William, these last days have been unbearable. Do you seriously imagine I would care about propriety now? Do you believe I could possibly sleep after seeing you for such a brief time?”
Her voice trembled as she spoke, and her eyes became watery though she was obviously fighting her brimming tears. His heart melted from sorrow for her distress, and he became angry with himself.
“Forgive me, Elizabeth; you are right! Blast propriety!” The next moment he was lying by her in a close embrace.
She recovered from the surprise of his impromptu reaction and carefully covered them both with the sheet. She nestled to his chest, chuckling.
“‘Blast’? Sir, I am shocked at your use of such an unseemly expression.”
Equally impromptu, he rolled her on her back so that she was lying against the pillows and his body was above hers, their faces almost touching.
“Miss Bennet, you just invited me into your bed! I could hardly say you are the proper person to criticise my language. Now, I would strongly suggest you desist teasing me and try to sleep—or you will be in great danger of having me not only speaking outrageously but acting likewise.”
“I would never be in any danger from you,” she said seriously, as her fingers entwined in his hair.
His adoring gaze and warm smile made her body quiver. She saw his face lower toward her own and closed her eyes, anticipating the feel of his lips on hers—but the contact was brief. He withdrew only the distance of a searing breath when he spoke. “Elizabeth, we cannot…”
She daringly tightened her arms around his neck and imprisoned him in her grasp. She had no thought for their improper intimacy as she whispered against his lips, “I only want you to kiss me…for a brief time. I have missed your kisses exceedingly.”
Darcy had no thought of refusing her. All sense of propriety or concern about being caught in a scandalous situation vanished in a moment as her eager mouth met his. Only a desperate need for air forced them to separate. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him as she nestled against his chest, her breathing laboured. Her cheek rested upon his wildly beating heart, and her legs playfully entwined with his.<
br />
“We should really sleep now,” she said, holding him tightly. “I will sleep only an hour or two. I have to check on Cassandra; she might need me.”
Darcy did not contradict her or try to convince her she needed to rest more than an hour; she looked exhausted, and he was certain she would not wake soon. He was proved right, as her voice grew weaker and her breath more regular; a few minutes later, she was soundly asleep.
He continued to stroke her hair, overwhelmed by the love he felt for her, ashamed and agitated by the temptation of her warm body next to his.
Darcy also suffered deeply for Cassandra; the moment he heard about her accident was as painful as when he had heard about his parents’ deaths. He would do anything to see Cassandra healthy again. He would give up all his possessions for her recovery. He would gladly take her pain upon himself.
Then how was it possible that in these moments—with his dear friend lying unconscious a few rooms away in danger of losing her life, with Elizabeth exhausted precisely because she spent hours taking care of his friend, with his own sister tormented by the distress and fear of losing Cassandra—the only thing Darcy could think of was Elizabeth’s soft breasts crushing his chest and burning his skin through the thin barriers of his shirt and her nightgown. How could he possibly sleep? Even if the shame and guilt of the preposterous direction of his thoughts and wishes were not present, his hungry desire for Elizabeth would surely keep him awake—painfully awake. No doubt remained in Darcy’s mind: he was undeniably the most ungentlemanlike, inconsiderate, egocentric man who ever lived!
***
Elizabeth awoke cold and lonely; when she managed to remember her whereabouts, she understood that Darcy had left.
For a moment, she thought she might have imagined his presence, but the pillow still carried his scent, and her body still sensed his warmth. She closed her eyes and burrowed beneath the sheets a few moments, rejoicing in the remembrance of his embrace and dreaming of a future when sleeping in his arms would no longer be a stolen pleasure.
It was already dawn, and though she still felt tired and the softness of the bed was tempting, she rose and began to dress herself, eager to see Cassandra and praying for good news. The house was silent; she met no one on her way to Cassandra’s chambers, but when she entered, it became clear her hopes for a favourable result were in vain. Mrs. Spencer was resting in an armchair, half-asleep and holding Cassandra’s hand.
Mrs. Spencer smiled affectionately when her gaze met Elizabeth’s and nodded to her to take a seat near her.
“Did you sleep well, my dear?”
“Yes, I did,” Elizabeth answered, blushing. Quite well indeed, she thought. “Has there been any change?”
“No, nothing. Do not distress yourself.”
Their chat was interrupted by Cassandra’s movement and incoherent whispers. Both of them hurried to her and called her name, but the only reaction was another long silence.
“She has her shoulder bandaged,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes. The doctor examined her again more closely. He suspected she had some broken ribs. Oh, dear, my poor girl. She suffered so much…” Mrs. Spencer could not fight back her tears and hid her face in her handkerchief, crying in desperation. She whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I did not help much, in fact I only watched from afar. I could not bear to look too closely. Thank God the colonel was here to help the doctor.”
“The colonel was here?” Elizabeth asked, and Mrs. Spencer startled with obvious discomfort.
“Yes…he…he just happened to inquire after Cassandra. Dr. Barrington said he could use the colonel’s help. Dr. Barrington has been their families’ doctor for a lifetime; did you know that?”
“Yes, yes, I was told that,” Elizabeth replied, unable to let the conversation shift to another subject. “Mrs. Spencer, I know it is highly improper of me to raise such a subject, but I hope you will understand that I am only concerned for Cassandra’s well-being. Last night, when she first recovered, she spoke only one word; she only called the colonel’s name. I was wondering if that happened again while you were with her.”
The lady nodded in agreement, and Elizabeth continued. “It is obviously a matter that distressed her greatly. I was wondering if you know anything that might help relieve her distress.”
Their embarrassment was mutual and neither found the words to dissipate the tension in the room. They looked at each other for a time, and Elizabeth was certain that Mrs. Spencer was trying to assess how much she should trust her.
“Miss Bennet, your devotion and affection for my girl has not passed unnoticed or unappreciated. I am deeply grateful to you and would not want to sound disrespectful when I say that I do not know anything I could share with you.”
“I understand,” Elizabeth replied uncomfortably.
“However, I will confess to you—and I trust your secrecy implicitly—that I allowed the colonel to stay with her after the doctor left. He practically begged me, and I had no heart to refuse him. I know I should not have done that. Cassandra was certainly in no condition to have a man in her room, and I know she will be furious that someone has seen her in such a state, covered in bandages, her nightgown damp from fever. I was tempted to refuse the colonel despite his obvious pain and torment. But then she called his name, and he heard her and hurried to the bed. He took her hand and started to talk, and she seemed to calm. Then he moistened her lips with a little tea, and she actually licked it. She fell asleep while he remained kneeling by her bed, holding her hand and whispering to her. What should I have done? How could I refuse him when his presence seemed so beneficial for my dear girl? I retired to a corner and left them alone. Miss Bennet, I do not know what is happening, but if something or someone might help my girl’s recovery, as God is my witness, I will not refuse it! She might be angry with me when she recovers, but I would give my life to see her well and sound—and angry with me!”
Mrs. Spencer turned pale as she spoke, and she appeared unable to stand. Elizabeth hurried to take her arm and directed her to a chair.
“Mrs. Spencer, I know it is not my part to decide, but I heartily agree with you! I do not believe the colonel’s presence would harm Cassandra. I have the highest opinion of the colonel,” Elizabeth was interrupted by Darcy’s unexpected entrance.
He greeted them warmly, his eyes falling tenderly on Elizabeth. Mrs. Spencer smiled to herself.
Darcy’s worry for his friend made him grimace in grief that there was no improvement and her fever had little diminished. He stayed near her, held her hand briefly, and then touched her forehead, startled at how hot it was. He rose nervously, and then asked where the doctor was and why drastic measures had not been taken. In his agitation, he declared he must fetch other physicians from Town, as neither Dr. Barrington nor Mr. Jones had seemed to discover a remedy.
“Mr. Darcy, please calm yourself, sir,” Mrs. Spencer said gently. “I understand your worry, but I am sure the doctors have done everything that could be done. Please let me inform you about the result of their latest examinations. Besides,” she added with a slight hesitation, “Cassandra did speak a few words—though not quite coherently. The mere fact that she is not completely unconscious should be a good sign, should it not?”
Darcy barely heard Mrs. Spencer and only tried to control his temper in order not to distress Elizabeth further. His resolution increased a few moments later when Georgiana joined them, her blue eyes ringed by dark circles, her face pale, and the lack of sleep aging her appearance. Once she entered the chamber, Georgiana sat near Cassandra and held her hand; she could not fight back her tears, nor did she make the attempt.
When Cassandra broke the silence and whispered a few words, they all gathered around, but none of their entreaties brought Cassandra to consciousness. If the ladies were sad and desperate, Darcy felt generally helpless, watching Cassandra struggle with the fever—as though trapped in a cage from which he was unable to free her. He would prefer to leave the room than suff
er being powerless to help, but how could he desert the ladies when they might need him? On the other hand, was it proper for him to be in Cassandra’s room? Likely not! Then why did nobody tell him that? Yes, perhaps he should leave for now.
“Mr. Darcy, if you have some business to attend to, please do so, sir. We will call you if we need anything,” said Mrs. Spencer.
He nodded silently in agreement and, slightly uncomfortable and with a last look at Elizabeth, moved to the door. Then he turned unexpectedly to them.
“Ladies, what did Cassandra whisper? I cannot be certain, but I thought I heard her calling a name—something like ‘David’.”
Mrs. Spencer and Elizabeth exchanged a quick glance and then looked at Georgiana who nodded in agreement.
“Yes, she called ‘David’ more than once—I heard her,” Georgiana explained with excitement.
“But David?” Darcy sounded puzzled as he looked from one lady to the other. “Who might this be? I do not know any David except my cousin.”
Georgiana looked quizzically at his misunderstanding while Elizabeth exchanged another quick glance with Mrs. Spencer. The elder lady could not help rolling her eyes at such naiveté.
“But brother, she is calling our cousin! It is so obvious.”
“Why on earth would she call David? It is true that she was fond of him when she was younger, but why would she call only his name? Well, after all, it matters little if her health improves. I would not—
A moment later, his face turned pale at the sudden revelation.
“No, that cannot be! He would not trifle with her! Not with Cassandra.” Before any of the ladies could stop him, he exited the chamber, slamming the door behind him.
