Page 6 of Saved By Mr. Darcy
“Thank you.”
“Might you sit, Mr Darcy? You do not look yourself.”
He glanced up, catching his reflection in the gold gilded mirror on the wall behind Mrs Reynolds.. If he were a vain man, perhaps he would despair at the sight of himself. But he was not, so the image reflected back at him caused him no surprise. After what he had seen, the haunted man in the mirror seemed quite right. He would have found it more offensive if his countenance had not changed at all.
“I am fine,” he barked. “There is much to do. Is there hot water?”
“Yes, as much as we could carry. I should think it will be about an hour before we can draw a bath, but I will bring as much for the doctor as we can.”
“Very well. Excuse me.”
He walked away, hearing the approaching wheels crunch on the gravel of the driveway. He raced out of the house and down the grand steps, taking them two at a time. Mr and Mrs Gardiner’s eyes were open now, staring blankly ahead as they came to a halt. Lizzy’s wagon followed, and he went over to it. He peered over the side, watching her chest for reassurance that she was still breathing. Her eyes remained closed, her face showing signs of bruising already.
“How is she?” Mrs Gardiner called out, trying to scrabble off the cart herself. “Please, sir, is she alive? I should have been with her, I should…”
“She is alive,” Darcy said simply. “I am sorry that I left her, but I needed to ensure there was all we will need here. The doctor is on his way, and there is a room prepared for Miss Elizabeth. She will have all she requires. I will see to it myself,”
“I need to…” the woman finally found her feet on solid ground, aided by Darcy and a servant. She wobbled, her eyes fluttering closed.
“You need to rest. Please, take Mrs Gardiner inside and see that she is well cared for.”
“We will never forget this,” Mr Gardiner said as he hauled himself down from the cart. “We owe you everything, Mr Darcy.”
“You owe me nothing, sir. Please, go inside. Take your rest. I will see that the doctor calls upon you just as soon as he has finished with your niece.”
He watched as the Gardiners walked slowly up the steps, glancing backwards towards their niece as they went. She was sowell loved, he could see that. Her family were chaotic and wild and indiscreet. But here, in the silence, he could see that Lizzy was loved. That did his heart some good, to know that she would always be cherished by someone.
The doctor arrived around forty-five minutes later. He greeted Mr Darcy cheerily, much to his frustration; how could any man be cheerful on a day such as this? The man did his work behind closed doors, and Darcy paced endlessly up and down the corridor. Each time he passed the door, he listened closely, desperately wanting to hear the gentle lilt of Miss Elizabeth’s voice. Instead, he heard only the muttered conversation between the doctor and his assistant. Finally, after around half an hour, the door opened.
“Mr Darcy,” the doctor’s sharp voice cut through the silence like a knife. “The poor girl is…well, she is in a difficult place. Her ankle is most certainly broken, her lower leg too. I will send for the finest surgeon in Matlock to come first thing tomorrow to set the bones. It is her mind that worries me. Her head is severely bruised, and there is no knowing what the outcome of such injury shall be until the time when she wakes. There could be untold damage, that is if she wakes at all. Her lungs do not sound right either. I fear we must make her comfortable, and let God guide us.”
“No,” he said tightly, his throat painful and eyes burning. “There must be more that can be done. There must be. I will pay any price, any….”
The doctor shook his head, holding up a hand. Darcy’s words trailed away; his fists clenched by his sides in defeat. When the doctor spoke again, his words only infuriated Darcy further.
“I am a doctor, sir. I cannot work miracles. If she wakes, I have left laudanum for the pain. I am told there are two others?”
“Mrs Reynolds,” Darcy called, “please take the doctor to the Gardiners.”
Mrs Reynolds appeared, seemingly from thin air, and gestured to the doctor and his assistant to follow her down the corridor.
“This way,” she nodded, not quite meeting Darcy’s eye. “They are upstairs.”
Darcy listened to the fading conversation, barely able to hear it over the pounding of his heart. He stared at the door in front of him. Miss Elizabeth was alone, the maids occupied elsewhere. He knew it was wrong, but he could not stand the thought of her waking alone. Perhaps waking to find him at the end of the bed would be a greater shock, but he did not pause to consider that as he pushed open the door.
The room was dark save for a lamp burning beside her bed, the curtains drawn. He wondered how the doctor had seen her in such dim light; perhaps he had drawn the curtains himself after he had finished, in some attempt to obscure the true nature of his patient’s injuries. Darcy was thankful, selfish as such feeling was, for he was sure the sight he had seen on the road would haunt him for the rest of his days. In such poor light, he could perhaps pretend that she was merely sleeping, that her eyes would open and she would…
What? Scold him? There was no scenario in which she would wake and be happy to see him. Still, he could not bring himself to leave her. He collapsed into the chair by her bed, staring at her.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he began, his voice trembling. “I apologise for being here. If you can hear me, you are safe. You are safe atPemberley. Your aunt and uncle are in good hands, the doctor is with them now. You will be well, I promise you. I…”
His voice faltered, the tears that had been furiously blinked away falling hotly down his cheeks. He swallowed hard, willing himself to continue.
“I will send for your family,” he continued. “Your aunt will care for you, I am sure, but I know that your kin mean a great deal to you. Your sister, in particular. Of course they should be here. I…I…please, Miss Elizabeth. Please, open your eyes.”
He watched her face carefully for any sign that she had heard him. He watched her for so long that he began to imagine a flicker of the eyelid, a twitch of the lip. Each imagined movement gave him a false hope. Finally, after some minutes had passed, he stood. He looked over to the door, only to be startled by the sight of his sister standing there.
“What is going on?” Georgiana asked. “Mrs Annesley insisted I stay in my room.”
