Page 3 of An Accidental Meeting
She squeezed his hand. “I am well, Mr. Darcy,” she assured him. “Just feeling rather foolish.”
“That damned portrait,” Darcy said bitterly, then bit his tongue so as not to let himself utter another oath in the presence of Elizabeth. “The frame is too heavy. It nearly fell when I was here last, and I left instructions to have it removed until I could have it reframed.”
“It is on the list,” Mrs. Reynolds replied tartly, but then smiled faintly.
Darcy snorted. “You and that never-ending list.”
Mrs. Reynolds met Elizabeth’s eye and smiled faintly. “I happen to like that portrait. Miss Bennet also thought it very fine.”
The pink in Elizabeth’s cheeks denoted embarrassment. She had liked his portrait? Perhaps she hated him a little less—or perhaps she had been silently cursing him.
“Do you think you might be able to sit up, Mrs. Reynolds?” Elizabeth inquired.
“Surely not,” Darcy protested.
But Mrs. Reynolds nodded. “Easy, now,” Elizabeth said, placing an arm behind the older woman’s back to provide support while using her other hand to keep the handkerchief in place.
He waited, his hands extended to provide support if needed, as Mrs. Reynolds sat upright.
After a few moments, Elizabeth asked, “Are you able to stand?”
Mrs. Reynolds paused a moment. “Yes,” she replied.
Were all women so troublesome? “Here,” Darcy said, carefully supporting his housekeeper on one side while Elizabeth supported her on the other, “allow us to assist you. Are you ready, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth nodded. “One,” she said, “Two . . .”
“Three,” Mr. Darcy said, and together, they rose, carefully pulling the housekeeper to her feet along with them.
Mrs, Reynolds was still for a moment before she straightened. “Kendall, Harper, go back to work,” she ordered. Two of the servants bobbed their heads and left. Three remained, a maid and two other footmen.
“Molly,” Darcy said to the maid, “you will stay with Mrs. Reynolds until Mr. Hammond arrives. Open the nearest room.”
“No, sir,” his housekeeper said firmly. “I will rest in my own chamber, thank you.”
“Please allow the physician to visit with you first,” Darcy said. “We can help you to your rooms later.”
“I will not be seen acting above my station,” Mrs. Reynolds informed him. “I must set the example, and I am not injured so badly that I cannot be helped to my room now.”
Darcy understood the need to be viewed as healthy and in control. Gruffly, he nodded, and then frowned when Mrs. Reynolds smiled wanly.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet,” she said wearily, pressing her own hand against the handkerchief Elizabeth had provided and had been holding all this time. Elizabeth appeared as though she might protest, but apparently thought better of it. She simply stepped back with a reluctant nod.
Darcy kept hold of Mrs. Reynolds’s arm.
“Mr. Darcy,” she whispered. “The young lady says she knows you.”
“She does.”
He felt the heat of a blush in his cheeks as Mrs. Reynolds silently assessed him. “She looked at your portrait for some time,” she said very quietly, giving his arm a pat before she turned carefully and said crisply, “Houghton. Gregson, help me to my room. Molly, you will attend me.”
The servants leapt to her side.
“Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Reynolds said, and turned cautiously before she had taken more than a few steps. “The judge and Mrs. Darcy have arrived and are in their customary chambers.”
Darcy nodded. His great-uncle and aunt had written that they were to arrive last night, providing an excellent excuse to ride on ahead of the rest of his party.
The servants and Mrs. Reynolds disappeared down the servants’ stairs.
