Page 20 of A Most Beloved Sister
Upon returning to Netherfield, Darcy gently lifted Elizabeth down from the horse and carried her into the house. The small uproar amongst the servants caused Miss Bingley to leave the drawing room to ascertain the cause of the turmoil.
“Mr. Darcy! Miss Eliza!”
Miss Bingley’s eyes were wide, and she stared with her mouth agape in an unladylike fashion. Darcy paid no heed to his hostess and said, turning to the housekeeper with Elizabeth still in his arms, “A hot bath and clean towels for Miss Elizabeth at once. She has injured her feet. Perhaps the apothecary ought to be called back.”
Ignoring Miss Bingley’s shrieking demands to know what had occurred, Darcy continued into the manor and up the stairs towards the guest wing. Upon reaching the door to her room, he jerked his head at a footman, indicating that the man should open it.
Ignoring propriety, Darcy entered the room and set Elizabeth on the settee near the window. “I imagine you wish to bathe and change before getting into the clean sheets.”
With no further ado, he gave a short bow and exited the room.
Elizabeth was oblivious to the commotion about her as two maids and the housekeeper, Mrs. Nicholls, helped her undress, bathe, and dress again. She was tucked into bed with hot bricks, and the housekeeper clucked in distress at seeing the soles of Elizabeth’s feet.
“I daresay you won’t be allowed to walk for at least a week,” the kindly woman said, using a cloth to wash the dirt and debris from inside the cuts.
Elizabeth made no response; she sat numbly for nearly half an hour until the door opened again.
“Lizzy?”
Her head snapped up at the sound of her father’s voice.
“Oh, Papa!”
Elizabeth burst into tears as he crossed the room and sat on the bed next to her. He placed a comforting arm around her shoulders, and she turned her face into his chest, sobbing.
They remained that way for several minutes until all her tears had been spent. Finally more tranquil, Elizabeth sat back and looked up at her father.
“You received my note?”
Mr. Bennet’s voice was heavy with tears. “I’m afraid so, my Lizzy. I spoke with Mr. Jones as well. I arrived here just as he was returning—something about your feet being injured? He is just outside, so you and I can speak later.”
Elizabeth didn’t want to move from her father’s embrace, but his gentle urging convinced her to sit back and allow Mr. Jones to examine her damaged feet.
He tutted and frowned as he knelt to inspect the bruised and torn flesh. When he sat back, he said, “I’m afraid I will need to clean them with alcohol before applying a salve and bandaging them. The pain will be quite intense, but I worry that to leave them as they are will cause an infection.”
She shuddered at the idea of losing her feet entirely and acquiesced. Mr. Jones opened a flask and poured some of it onto a clean cloth, then pressed it against the first wound. Elizabeth let out a cry of pain at the burning sting that shot from the soles of her feet and up her legs.
Mr. Bennet reached out and placed a bracing arm around her shoulders. He passed her a small pillow. “Here, Lizzy. Bite down on this.”
She shook her head, then gritted her teeth as Mr. Jones continued the debridement. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more pain, the apothecary applied a thick salve that soothed the sharp agony into a low tingle.
Once the salve was applied, he then bound her feet with soft, white strips of cloth. The bandages were then covered with stockings, and Mr. Jones sat back to admire his handiwork.
“If you were any other young lady,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “you would need to remain in your bed for at least three days. Since it’s you, I know it will be difficult, so I’ll simply tell you to exercise caution and keep your feet elevated as much as possible. If the pain becomes severe or you develop a fever, you must summon me immediately.”
He set a jar of salve on the little table by her bed and left the room to give instructions to the maid on how often to change the bandages.
Mr. Bennet let out a heavy sigh. “What on earth possessed you to be so foolish, Elizabeth?”
“I just… I needed to get away. I couldn’t breathe.”
“I can’t say I blame you,” Mr. Bennet said. “I recommend next time you wish to emulate Leonidas of Rhodes, you do so with the proper footwear.”
Elizabeth’s tears gave way to laughter, and Mr. Bennet joined her. When the humor died away, they sat for some moments in contemplative silence. Finally, he suggested they check on Jane.
“I would tell you to stay in bed, but I know even better than Mr. Jones that my breath would be wasted.” He stood and picked up the mangled house slippers she had been wearing.
She laughed. “I believe my bandages and socks will be sufficient.”
