Dawn brought with it a bright, near cloudless world which appeared in such stark contrast to the perils he and Elizabeth had faced hours before that one might wonder if the unpleasant events had been but a horrid dream. Yet, the sight of his own clothes in near ruin by the fire, the ache of every muscle in his body, and the lingering feeling of cold which could not be shifted, these all confirmed the truth of his memories.
Wincing as he stood, Darcy made his way unsteadily from his makeshift bed in the study to the front room where she–his Elizabeth–had remained all night.
Nestled by the fire Elizabeth slept amid a mound of blankets on the floor, Jane asleep beside her as Mary kept watch.Pale. She appeared much too pale. There ought to be something he could do for her. To help her heal.
Head whipping toward the doorway, Darcy frowned as Lady Charmane and Lord Brayburn opened the door without knocking, their slow entrance letting in far too much of the cold morning air.
“Close the door!” he barked, his knees threatening to disobey his desire to stand, much less oversee the completion of his order. “Do you want to see Elizabeth made ill?”
At his words Lady Charmane rushed to Elizabeth’s side, demanding a full account of what had occurred, the whole household soon joining at the commotion of it all; though Elizabeth continued to sleep, her steady, deep breathing as worrying as it was comforting.
Hand moving to his head, Darcy could feel the world swirling around, his knees weakening as he sought to stand.
“Here,” Lord Brayburn urged as Darcy swayed on his feet. “Let us find you a place to sit.”
He could not afford his cousin to keep him from Elizabeth. A little rest and then he might stay by her side.
“Not here… the study. My cousin you see…” Darcy worried as he allowed Lord Brayburn to take his arm.
“I understand,” Lord Brayburn answered simply, the pair making their way to the study. “Take this chair, I will obtain tea and toast, unless you desire more?”
Shaking his head, Darcy sunk heavily into the chair, his eyes closing as he sought to still the nauseating swaying.Elizabeth. He had to be whole for Elizabeth.Clutching the arms of the chair, Darcy fought the disconcerting feeling of being on a ship; everything rising, swaying, and falling in rapid succession.
Minutes ticked by and, though the world did not fully return to its usual steady form, Darcy could at last open his eyes without his vision crashing about like massive waves.
“Here, toast and tea; I made it myself, so it may not be up to standard, but considering how rarely I do this, I admit with no small amount of pride that it turned out better than I expected,” Lord Brayburn laughed as he set the tray on a nearby table. “You take yours without sugar if I recall correctly.”
Nodding, Darcy hissed as the motion caused the swaying sensation to return in some measure, his knuckles white as he gripped the chair.
“Are you alright?”
Preparing to nod, Darcy huffed as he managed to halt that foolish notion, his lips curling as he answered instead, “Yes. Well, alright enough. I suppose I am a little tired or hungry or… some such.”
“Though I am willing to keep all I have seen to myself,” Lord Brayburn remarked as he handed a cup to Darcy, “a physician will no doubt be here shortly, and whilst most of his time should be with Miss Elizabeth, I do believe he ought to examine you as well. The others will agree and likely press the matter; I trust I will not have to press it as well?”
Scowling at the man, Darcy said, “Very well. As you say, no doubt I will be pressed to do so by everyone else. As long as Elizabeth is seen first, I am satisfied.”
“Ah,” Lord Brayburn said as he glanced over his raised cup, “the rumours are true. Toast?”
“Yes,” he answered as he accepted the proffered toast. “What rumours?”
“That you are either promised to Miss Elizabeth or, at minimum, besotted.” Taking a bite of toast, the bread crunching as he did, Lord Brayburn shook his head. “A pity that. No, not what you think; I do not pity your feelings for her or your relationship… only your pig-headedness. The lack of trust which you admitted to having in her.”
Frowning Darcy set aside his toast. “I never meant what I said. My heart spoke of her honesty; I was reminded of her good character. Yet, this fear of her not truly loving me. Of her being like those in the Ton–like so many peers–that is what came tumbling out, though I did not believe them.”
“So,” Lord Brayburn smirked, “all peers are alike? And none are to be trusted? Lady Charmane. Myself. Even Miss Elizabeth’s beloved uncle. None of us can be trusted? Is that how it is?”
Brows meeting, Darcy’s finger rubbed over his lips.The man was right. When someone said it aloud, it sounded remarkably foolish. Foolish and prejudiced–almost as much as Mr. Thomson was toward anyone connected with America.
“That is how it was,” Darcy answered with a smile, the man before him far less disconcerting than he had been in the weeks they had known one another. “Though I could name a few peers unworthy of trust.”
“As can I,” he laughed, “How about Lord Ramsgate for a start?”
“Agreed,” Darcy answered with a chuckle.
“If only Mr. Thomson was titled; we might add him to our list as well, but alas, I suppose some untrustworthy men must arise from all walks of life.” Motioning toward Darcy’s uneaten toast, Lord Brayburn said, “You ought to eat. Keep up your strength so you can see your Miss Elizabeth, and tell her, if you have not, what you told me. She seems the sort to forgive you should you but ask…” Gaze dropping, he murmured, “A simple thing, if you are inclined to do it. Some men can be rather foolish though. Prideful and incredibly stupid.” Voice returning to its normal pitch, he nodded, “Yes. I am referring to myself, or myself two years ago. You see, I loved a lady of intelligence and beauty, and she loved me. Yet, though we courted and spoke of marriage, her person attracted the attention of many, many men. Men whom she behaved politely toward, but did not encourage. I, in my fear, my jealousy, behaved as though I did not trust her.”
“What happened?”
