Page 5 of Saved By Mr. Darcy
“Mrs Gardiner, can you crawl?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m coming out.”
He watched as Mrs Gardiner crawled free of the carriage. In the light of day, he could see that her face was badly injured. Blood smudged her cheeks, a cut on her forehead and another on her chin. Her lip was swollen and cut, purple bruises already blooming beneath her eyes. It was some small blessing that she seemed to be moving well. Once free of the carriage, she stood up (not without a small amount of wincing) brushing down her skirts. She looked up, catching sight of her niece. Her face, already a picture of discomfort, twisted into agony.
“Oh, our poor, dear Lizzy!”
“I will make sure she gets the best care. You have my word. All of you. I have sent for the doctor, and I will have rooms prepared for your convalescence.”
“We could not ask that of you.”
Darcy watched as the woman began to tremble in much the same way as her husband. Her teeth chattered together noisily, her eyes wide and frightened. He had nothing with which to cover her; he wished he had had the foresight to request blankets. Her lips seemed to continue to move even though she had ceased speaking. They needed to return to Pemberley at once.
“Please, Mrs Gardiner, will you sit? You have had a dreadful shock.”
The woman shook her head, clutching at her chest. Her eyes darted around her, searching desperately for something. Darcy stepped forward, touching her arm in an attempt to steer her to some clear ground where she might sit. She shrugged him off, batting him away as she began to cry.
“Edward. I must go to Edward.”
Darcy stepped back, gesturing behind him to where Mr Gardiner was being tended to. She ran to her husband, pushing through the three men who were gathered around him and kneeling by his side. He smiled up at her, his chest heaving with pain. What a thing, to be so happy to see someone even in agony. A devoted couple indeed.
He knelt beside Elizabeth, reaching out to brush her hair from her face. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, wiping away the blood at her temple. The blood seemed to be coming from a thankfully tiny cut; with any luck, that injury would be of no consequence. Perhaps she was well, just unconscious. He felt relief wash over him. That was, until he looked down at her leg. Her skirt was torn, and he could see that her ankle was swollen. When he lifted her skirt slightly, he could see a large gash on her shin. He lowered her skirt, lifting his hand to brush her hair from her face. His thumb caressed her jaw, and he felt utterly bereft at the thought of losing her.
“I will take care of you, Miss Elizabeth. I swear that I shall keep you safe.”
Chapter Two
The journey to Pemberley seemed to last forever. Darcy rode alongside the cart carrying Elizabeth, watching every rise and fall of her chest. She was not woken by the jostling of the cart’s wheels on the uneven path. How could someone sleep through such a disturbance? He worried she would never wake. He could not imagine a world in which he never saw her eyes again; no matter how much disdain he saw within them, he thought of her eyes often. He had dreamed what it would be to see his love reflected in her gaze - and now, he feared that he would never know.
Mr and Mrs Gardiner travelled in a separate wagon, sitting on the flatbed in silence. They clung to one another, their eyes closed. Their clothes were torn, their hair strewn with debris from the accident. How lucky they had been to escape without grave injury; how lucky all three had been to escape with their lives. Darcy only prayed that their niece would share their good fortune and wake from her slumber soon.
The house loomed into view, and even from some distance away Darcy could see the gathered crowd at the steps. He surged forwards, riding past the convoy rolling towards the house. He did not look back, cantering the rest of the distance. He tuggedon the reins to stop the horse, leaping down and walking forward to Mrs Reynolds. She looked on in concern, her hands twisted together.
“Sir, what has happened? We did not expect you back until tomorrow, and your man returned with jumbled talk of an accident. Are you hurt?”
“I am well. I came upon three travellers in an accident, caused by the deer stampeding. Two men lie dead on the road, Mrs Reynolds. The men shall go and retrieve them, but three yet live. A man and wife and their niece. Has the doctor been sent for?”
“Yes, Mr Darcy. I sent one of the girls to the village. What shall we do?”
“We must bring them inside. Mr and Mrs Gardiner require rest and their niece…” his words faltered, his throat growing tight as all the emotion he had pushed away threatened to return. “Their niece has not woken since the accident. I fear she is gravely hurt.”
“Take her to the Blue Room,” Mrs Reynolds said. “The bed is prepared for our guests.”
The Blue Room was a bedroom on the ground floor of the house, typically set aside for guests who less able to traverse stairs. He had always thought it a pleasant room, with its view over the lake. Oh, how he wished that Miss Elizabeth would be stirred by the view, that the bird song and splashes of the ducks would rouse her from this terrible sleep.
“Guest?” Darcy echoed dully, his mind not focusing.”
“The Bingleys and the Hursts, sir.”
“Of course. Of course. I shall write to Bingley at once and postpone their visit.”
“But they are due in just five days!” Mrs Reynolds protested. “Surely once our unexpected guests have been taken to a proper place to rest, we shall…”
He could hear no talk of Miss Elizabeth and her family leaving this house. He wanted to keep her close, to cradle her to him as though his love could protect her from death itself. They would stay here as long as was required, under his watchful eye. He shook his head, his voice tight.
“I am in no mood for entertaining. And see that Georgiana is kept in her rooms whilst the doctor is here. I do not wish for her to get in the way, nor for her to see this. It would upset her.”
“I have asked Mrs Annesley to occupy her, sir.”
