Page 7 of Saved By Mr. Darcy
“And yet here you are,” he said evenly, not wishing to take his frustration out on his sister. “Go back, sister. You do not need to know the sorrows that have entered this house. Not yet.”
He rose to his feet, walking towards his sister. She avoided him, ducking around him to stand closer to the bed. She stared down
“What has happened?” Georgiana pressed. “Who is this poor girl? I heard commotion, talk of a doctor and even of a vicar! You must tell me what has gone on!”
“An accident out on the Northern path. The deer are particularly active at the moment, they frightened the horses. This…this lady and her family were badly hurt.”
“Why are you here? Surely a maid could watch over a stranger,” Georgiana said, her eyes darting between the prone form of Miss Elizabeth to his own. He straightened up, conscious of her keen eye and talent for observation.
“She is no stranger to me,” he muttered, admitting what he was sure she suspected. “I will take you back to your room. Come.”
“Who is she?”
“An acquaintance of mine from Hertfordshire, that is all. Mr Bingley was very fond of her family, and we saw her and her sisters often. I just thought…if she woke up, perhaps a familiar face…”
He knew that he had said too much as soon as Georgiana’s eyebrows raised in recognition. She was becoming a remarkably intelligent young woman. He knew that she had a memory for details, and he should not have been so careless to think she had not combed each of his letters with observant eyes.
“The Bennets? Which is she? I do not think her Jane, for you described her as fair. Miss Elizabeth, was it? Dark hair, that is what you said, and handsome features.”
“Yes.”
“Was she coming to see us?” Georgiana asked softly. “You told me only of the Bingleys and the Hursts. I had no idea we were expecting your new friend.”
“No. No, she was not coming here. Her aunt hails from Derbyshire. They were taking a pleasure trip across the county. They were to lodge at Lambton tonight. That is why…”
He found himself unable to speak. Georgiana did not seem to notice, her eyes fixed on the bed. He had hoped for his sister’sgood opinion of Miss Elizabeth, for he believed they would be compatible in their humours. He had never imagined that these would be the circumstances in which they would meet.
“What terrible misfortune has befallen them. What can I do? I can fetch water, tear sheets, whatever I must…”
His heart was glad that his sister was such a gentle, trusting soul. She did not push beyond polite curiosity, nor did she berate him for not being more open about his feelings, though she was no doubt filled with questions. He looked at her, those wide eyes filled with concern for a family she had never met. He saw so much of their mother within her, finding comfort in their shared quality of generosity and good will to all. A fresh ache washed over him - he longed for comfort, to wake up and to find that this had all been a dream.
“You can go to your room and resume your lessons.”
“But brother!”
“Go. Please, Georgiana. Do not make me tell you again.”
Perhaps his sister saw his distress, for her fight suddenly stopped. Her look of quiet displeasure changed once to abject pity. She nodded, turning from him and leaving the room without a word.
Chapter Three
Darcy had a talent for writing letters. He spent much of his time engaged in correspondence, writing not only to those who ran his estate and dealt with the business of Pemberley, but to his sister. Those letters were the easiest of all to write; the words flowed out of him with little thought. He had already composed a letter to Charles and his sisters, sending it off before sunset. Now, some hours later, he was tasked with writing the most difficult letter of all.
The fire had almost burned down, the strike of three ringing through his study. And still, the page before him was empty. He had stared at it for hours, hoping that he would find the words to tell them the terrible business of what had happened earlier that day. Just how was he to address the Bennets? He had barely exchanged a polite word to them, and now he must deliver such a cruel blow to their family. Though it was little secret he did not hold them in high regard, he was not a man without empathy. Perhaps he had been too quick in his judgement. Perhaps Miss Elizabeth had been entirely accurate in her assessment of his behaviour.
The quill turned over and over in his hand, the feather tattered in the corners from his deliberation. His eyes were heavy, hisshoulders slumped. This was no good; he could not sit here and wallow in this indulgent self-pity. There was a duty to be done.
Dear Mr Bennet,
Finally, ink met the page.
I must write to you with grave news. Your daughter, Miss Elizabeth, as well as your kin Mr and Mrs Gardiner have met with an unfortunate accident on the road. Their horses were startled by a stampede of deer on the path to the north of my property, Pemberley in Derbyshire. The carriage they were travelling in overturned and two men were lost. Your daughter and her aunt and uncle are alive, but badly hurt. I am sorry to say that Miss Elizabeth has sustained the most severe injuries. She has not opened her eyes since the accident occurred yesterday afternoon. Her leg is broken, and the doctor believes that, should she make a full recovery, she will be unable to leave Pemberely for some time as she recuperates from her ordeal.
I am writing to ask that one of her family might travel to Derbyshire to attend her; perhaps Miss Bennet, for I know that they are particularly close, as well as a chaperone of your choice. I will see that arrangements are made for her travel once I have received your permission to do so. In the meantime, you have my assurance, sir, that my staff are taking the finest care of your family. Tomorrow, a surgeon from Matlock shall visit to assess Miss Elizabeth’s injuries. They will have everything they need to aid in their recovery until such a time that they may return to Hertfordshire.
Please write back to me to inform me of your plans. I will send word as soon as anything changes.
Yours,
