“After risking his life to save you,” Mary said, her face in full disapproval, “how you can think him inconstant enough to not marry you is a strange thing. He has not left your side from this morning until now, though he would benefit from a proper bed. The first night he fell asleep on a small settee in the drawing room. Today, he refused even that, remaining ever at your side. No. You two shall marry, on that I have no doubt.”
Poor Darcy. He had been through so much already. That chair appeared far too small… he would be sore by morning.
Grinning, Mary nodded, as if reading her sister’s thoughts. “Perhaps by the beginning of spring. Yes. That might be best.”
Lips pinching, Elizabeth changed the focus of their conversation. “What about you? A spring wedding?”
“If Richard can get past his pride. Meanwhile, he asked to court me, and we shall write to Uncle as soon as we may.”
“His pride?” Elizabeth questioned with a yawn.
“He wishes to settle his finances first, which could take as much as a year; it is not wholly necessary, we would be comfortable enough, particularly now that my dowry is to be substantial… but he is a man of no considerable pride. I, however, am a great deal more stubborn, I suspect a twelve-month shall be lessened.”
“I hope so,” Elizabeth smiled absent mindlessly, her eyes drifting to the man sitting nearby;his cravat absent, clothing mussed, and face marbled with stubble, he appeared as informal as he might be in the privacy of his own home. And remarkably handsome at that.
Head jerking toward her sister, Elizabeth’s face warmed as she rushed, “Did you say something?”
“Nothing of any import,” she chuckled as she stood. “Get some sleep. Either Jane or I will be down in a bit. Do you think you might manage a little broth then?”
Nodding, Elizabeth sunk further into the bedding, the knowing smirk of her sister making her wish she might sink further still until her attention again became fixed on a certain gentleman; his handsome mien the last thing she recalled before sleep overtook her.
Chapter 35
Staffordshire, England – 1812 – Day 17
Starting, Darcy met his cousin’s gaze, the chair beneath him creaking as he moved.
“Come,” Fitz whispered, Darcy’s eyes flitting to Elizabeth; her colour improved, her breathing easy, she almost appeared as she always had.
Wincing as every muscle in his body argued against the decision, Darcy stood, his cousin motioning toward the hall.
“Come, get something to eat. The physician wishes to examine you and before you ask, yes, he has seen her and she will be alright–you could sleep through a battle when you have a mind to.”
Alright? She would be alright.
Grinning, Darcy made his way awkwardly after his cousin, his limbs choosing to behave as those of a newborn calf, though he did not care.Elizabeth would be alright. She was alright. And she…Taking his cousin’s arm as they made their way toward the dining room, Darcy frowned as he forced Fitz to halt.
“Has she not wakened?” he asked worriedly.
Nodding, Fitz pulled Darcy along, “She has. Last night she and Mary talked, then again she woke up long enough to speak with the physician an hour ago; she is making excellent strides. If she continues as she is, he believes she will be well enough to return to Lady Charmane’s tomorrow.”
“That is good news. Hopefully when she is next awake I can speak with her.”
“And apologize?” Fitz teased as they entered the dining room.
“And apologize… as soon as I may.”
∞∞∞
Staffordshire, England – 1812 – Day 18
Pulling on his coat with a growl, Darcy readied himself for the short, cold drive ahead.A moment alone with Elizabeth. Was that too much to ask?
Eyes following Elizabeth as she was placed into a carriage with her sisters and Lady Charmane, he frowned.
If only everyone did not hover over Elizabeth so, he might have been able to apologize. Instead, he never even had the chance to speak with her. Lady Charmane had to be the worst offender, her tales of the escapades she and Mrs. Bennet had gotten into as children–though amusing and welcome any other time–had gone on for hours without end, Elizabeth ready for sleep by the time the Grand Lady saw fit to shut her mouth.
Fists curling, he took a steadying breath.A cousin of Elizabeth’s, distant true, but a cousin nonetheless. Elizabeth would not wish to forgive him for his last offense if he managed another.
