Page 73 of A Most Beloved Sister
“Yes.”
“I am going to retire now. Please wake me if Jane needs anything.”
Having gained the young maid’s assurances, Elizabeth closed the door between her room and Jane’s, then crossed over to her bed. Unable to even ring the bell for assistance in undressing, she simply crawled under the covers and was fast asleep within moments.
∞∞∞
Bang, bang, bang!
Elizabeth bolted upright in her bed, looking around frantically. The loud pounding at the door to her room from the hallway resumed, and she hastily stood and made her way to it. She yanked it open just as Darcy’s fist was about to come down again, stopping only mere inches from her nose.
“Just what on earth do you think you are doing?” she hissed at him. “What possible reason could you have for pounding on my door in such a manner?”
“My apologies, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy replied, a strange look on his face. His voice was formal—at odds with his expression—and his arm dropped to his side. “Mr. Hurst has been discovered, and Mrs. Hurst is requesting your immediate presence. I knocked quietly several times, but there was no answer. I was becoming quite concerned.”
She brushed off his answer in favor of the most pressing bit of information. “He’s been found? Where was he? Is he injured?”
Looking around wildly, she noticed the long shadows in the room. “What time is it?”
“It is just after three in the afternoon.”
Elizabeth stared at him blankly. “I slept forfive hours?”
“I believe you were quite tired. But come, let me take you to Mrs. Hurst. I can give you more information as we walk.”
She was several steps in the hallway before she realized that she was only wearing stockings. Lifting a hand to her head, she discovered with horror that half her hair had fallen from its pins and was now tumbling in riotous curls around her shoulders, which explained the odd way in which he had looked at her when she opened the door.
“Good heavens, what a mess,” she muttered to herself.
As she twisted pieces of hair back into place, she asked Darcy to tell her exactly what all had occurred whilst she had slept.
“About two hours after you retired, one of the militia found Hurst’s horse. It seems he attempted to jump a hedge or wall that had a small ravine on the other side. The horse was at the bottom of the ravine with a broken leg, but Hurst was nowhere to be found.”
Elizabeth let out a small gasp and dropped the lock of hair she had been securing. “Where was he?”
“Somehow he survived the fall, thank the Lord. We’re not entirely certain what happened, but he made his way about half a mile to the north, where he took shelter in an abandoned cottage of some kind. He was found about an hour ago, unconscious. Mr. Jones is seeing to him now.”
Having arrived at the doorway to the Hursts’ bedchambers, Darcy bowed. “This is where I will leave you, Miss Elizabeth. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to be of assistance.”
His hot gaze bore into hers, and she flushed at the intensity of his stare. “Thank you,” she whispered. Then—feeling suddenly bashful—she darted into Louisa’s room and pulled the door closed behind her.
“Oh, Elizabeth!”
She scarcely had time to take in her surroundings before she was engulfed by desperate arms.
Louisa clung to her friend, weeping pitifully. “He’s going to die, Elizabeth! My Reggie is going to die, and it will be all my fault. I’ve killed my husband!”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she fought to get a breath of air, but Louisa’s tight embrace constricted her lungs. She settled for patting her friend on the back reassuringly a few times, which was enough to allow Louisa to finally let her go.
Sucking in a lungful of air, Elizabeth guided Louisa to the bed. “Now, let’s have you lie down and rest. All this stress cannot be good for the baby. Now, then, what’s all this nonsense about you having killed your poor husband?”
For the next half hour, Louisa poured out every single event and emotion that had occurred over the last several weeks, especially with regard to Hurst’s discovery of the pregnancy and the alcoholism pamphlet.
“If only I had spoken to him about the baby sooner. Or never even accepted that stupid pamphlet in the first place,” Louisa moaned into her friend’s shoulder. “You should have seen his face. He looked so… so hurt, so betrayed. I’ve never seen him like that before. I should have stopped him from riding out. If he dies, it will all be my fault. I’ve killed my child’s father.”
“Ahem.”
Both women looked up to see Mr. Jones standing at the door between the two rooms. As she waited to hear what he would have to say, Elizabeth began to pray.Dear Lord, please don’t let it be too bad.
