“Elizabeth, I shall lift you up, and then mount behind you.”
“Yes.”
Once they were mounted, he settled her firmly against his breast and guided his horse from the tower. He looked down at the lovely woman and feared for her life. Her lips bore a bluish cast, and the pallor of her face was so marked that for one dreadful instant, he feared she had ceased breathing. Then a violent cough seized her, and relief swept through him. She still lived.
He drew the blanket more closely about her to shield her from the cold. As he rode through the silent woods, he prayed, bargaining with God that if only this woman might live, he would double the charitable contribution he made to the orphanage each year.
Looking upon the woman who possessed his heart, he murmured words of devotion against her damp curls and, at times, succumbed to tears. “Elizabeth, you must fight, my darling. You must fight it.”
They rode back to Rosings at a measured pace. She wished to return to the parsonage, yet he could not oversee her care there; he brought her instead to Rosings Park. At the entrance, Drake stood ready. Richard waited to take her from Darcy’s arms. Georgiana stood nearby in tears, while Miss Anne directed the servants to warm bricks and send for the physician. Lady Catherine remained at the drawing room entrance and observed from a distance as Richard carried Elizabeth up the stairs, the others close behind.
No one questioned him. That reckoning must come later. For now, he held to one hope alone, that she might survive the illness.
Chapter 20: Brought Low
Darcy remained just outside the bedchamber door and watched as Anne drew back the bedclothes and Richard laid Elizabeth upon the bed.
“Georgiana, hold her upon her side while I undo the buttons. Her clothing is damp.”
Darcy asked, “Anne, shall I send for her sister?”
“Yes, send for Mary. Inform her I shall prepare a room, so she may remain with us until Lizzy recovers.” She bent to the task of loosening Elizabeth’s boot strings.
He waited beyond the threshold until Richard emerged, and the two descended the stairs together.
“How do you fare, Darcy? Where did you pass the night?”
Though disguise of every sort was abhorrent to him, Darcy offered a prevarication. “I took shelter in an old shed for the night. I had not accounted for the flooding that would result from that storm.”
“Yes, the low ground on that side serves as a natural basin for the floodwaters.”
“And you? Where did you take shelter?”
“In the old caves where we once made camp as boys, the place Phillip favored.”
“I remember it well. Was it dry?”
“It lies deep enough to afford protection from wind and rain. I remained tolerably dry.”
“I shall send for Miss Bennet’s sister.” As Darcy moved toward the library, he questioned the butler. “Have you sent for the physician?”
“Yes, sir. Dr. Miller is at Westerham attending a confinement, but he will come to Rosings when it is concluded.”
Once the note was sent to Mrs. Collins, Darcy sat down to eat his breakfast in company with Richard and Georgiana. He asked, “How does Miss Bennet appear now, Georgie?”
“She is flushed, and her skin is hot and dry. Do you think she will die? Her cough sounds dreadful.”
“It is an inflammation of the lungs, my dear.” Seeing her distress at this revelation, he added in an effort to comfort her, “Some do succumb, but she is young. I trust she will recover.” But under his breath, he said, “I only hope the physician proves competent.”
At this point, Richard interjected. “Anne and Lady Catherine have had a severe quarrel. She lays the blame upon our aunt for Miss Bennet’s being caught in the storm, and now that she lies so ill, Anne feels it more keenly. She spoke of leaving once Miss Bennet recovers and asked whether she might return with me to London and stay at Matlock House with my mother. She desires a season in town, something Lady Catherine has never permitted.”
“Will you take her with you?”
“Yes. I shall write to my mother. It will give her some occupation beyond contriving to marry us to the undeserving.”
Darcy gave a short laugh. “I had thought you and Anne would marry.”
Richard smiled. “We shall, though at present she holds me in disfavor for placing that farmer’s daughter before her. She exacts her revenge. It signifies nothing. My cousin loves me, and I have no fear she will choose another.”
