Page 13 of Saved By Mr. Darcy
He let his feet take him where his mind could not decide. He knew Pemberley as well as he knew his own mind, every inch of this land ingrained so deeply into his soul he felt that they were truly one entity. It did not surprise him when he found himself at the little church not far from the main house. He looked down at his parents’ graves; he had come here so often when he needed guidance. He came here so very often he had installed a small stone bench; he had claimed it was for Georgiana, who often came here as she grew, longing for parents she scarcely remembered. It was for him, too.
“I love her,” he said softly. “You have heard of Miss Elizabeth before, of course. And now she is here, within Pemberley’s walls. It feels worse to love her here. More painful, and more real by far. Forgive me my melancholy, Mother, Father. I cannot help but wonder what you would have to say were you here. Mother, your sister does not care for Miss Elizabeth, but in my heart I feel you would see the good in her. The good that I myself failed to see at first.”
It had been ten years since the death of his father, and far longer still since he had last looked upon his mother’s face. Their voices had faded in his mind, and he hoped that he was right in his memory of his mother. She had been a kind person, lacking the sharp tongue and unshakeable opinions of her sister. A fair mistress of the house, and an adoring mother. She had longed for Georgiana, only to be snatched away when she was still a babe. How fleeting life was.
How cruel it could be.
He sat there for some time, staring down at the smooth stone of his parents’ grave. He reached out, tracing their names with his fingertips. He did not know what advice they would have for him, but he knew that their characters and values lived on within him. His father’s quick mind, his mother’s good judgement. And yet, on matters of the heart, he did not possess their knowledge.
“I must go,” he murmured, stepping back and letting his hand fall by his side. “I will visit again after church on Sunday.”
He walked slowly back to the house, the evening breeze cool and welcome as he thought of Miss Elizabeth once more. He wanted nothing more than to return to her side, but that was not possible. He had fooled himself these past days that she would awake and everything would somehow be different.
Darcy did not return to the Blue Room, instead retreating to his study. There was a stack of correspondence waiting to be addressed, left here by his steward. He had neglected everything but Elizabeth, his duties seeming unimportant. He was wrong to have overlooked his responsibilities when her care was well in hand. He had no part to play in her life, and it was time to halt his delusion.
He buried himself in work, writing furiously until his lamp burned low and his quill had grown blunt. He did not know the time, only that the summer sun had set some hours before. His body felt heavy, his mind blurred. It was comforting to feelsomethingother than the crushing fear that had consumed him this past week.
A knock on the door jolted him from his stupor, the sudden noise making him flinch. He rose, opening the door to find MrsGardiner. She was still dressed for the day despite the lateness of the hour, a woollen shawl about her shoulders. She looked to be exhausted, the candle she carried casting ghostly shadows across her face. He felt his heart race; what reason could she have to disturb him so late at night?
“What is wrong?” he asked in a panic. “What has happened?”
“Do not be alarmed, sir. Mrs Reynolds told me you would most likely be here. Lizzy is awake. She has taken some broth, and she has asked if you might come and see her. I know it is very late, but she insists upon it.”
He turned to pick up his jacket from where he had discarded it on the floor beside him. He shoved it on hastily, not realising until he stood outside Miss Elizabeth’s door that he was wearing no cravat and no shoes. Such a slovenly appearance was to be expected so late at night, but it was still improper to visit a young lady in such a state. He was about to protest when Mrs Gardiner knocked on the door, announcing his arrival.
“I will wait just outside the door,” Mrs Gardiner said, stepping back from the doorway to allow him entrance.
“Thank you,” he nodded. He stepped inside, staying close to the door which was carefully left open.
Miss Elizabeth sat up, a candle burning by her bedside. In the darkness, the shadows hid the pallor he had seen earlier – for the briefest of moments, he could fool himself that her sickness had been nothing more than a dream. She smiled at him, and he saw fatigue that could be hidden by no light in her eyes.
“Thank you for coming to me at such an hour.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” he bowed his head. “How may I help you?”
“Mr Darcy,” she said softly. “What an imposition my family and I have caused you.”
“It is nothing.”
“I don’t believe it to be nothing. My aunt has told me of all you have done for them, but she needn’t have. It is clear to me, for I see that we have new clothes and that both she and my uncle are treated with the greatest respect and comfort. And of course, what you have done for me.”
“I-”
“My aunt said that you would protest should I try to express my thanks,” she smiled softly. “Just know that I shall always be grateful for your help. She says you saved my life. She told me of how you saved me.I would surely have died without you.”
“You owe me nothing.”
“I do not believe it to be a debt I could ever hope to repay. I also see that you are an honourable man. A man that I owe an apology to.”
He owed her a thousand apologies. He had been all too quick in his assessment of her family, cutting in his words. And, most of all, he had seen his love for her as some sort of inconvenience, a curse that had been put upon him against his will.
“Miss Elizabeth, you must rest. I have taken up quite enough of your time.”
“I…I heard you, when I was sleeping. Or perhaps it was all a dream, and you do not know what I am speaking of. Dream or reality, I know that I took comfort in your presence all the same.”
“I…”
“Thank you,” she said softly, before she yawned. Her eyes fluttered closed. “Excuse me, Mr Darcy. I have taken enough of your time.”
