Page 4 of The Engagement at Longbourn

Then practical necessity returned. The nearest farm belonged to the Gouldings’ tenant, Mr. Barnes, perhaps half a mile across the fields. Longbourn was nearer than Netherfield by road from this point, though not by much. She could not possibly move Darcy herself. Elizabeth pulled off her scarf and folded it beneath the side of his head where the ground was hardest. She took off one glove and pressed it briefly against his cheek.

“I am coming back,” she told him, though he could not hear. “And when you are well enough, I intend to be extremely angry with you.”

She ran. Ten minutes later she burst into the Barnes farmyard so breathless that the farmer’s wife dropped a basket of eggs. “Miss Bennet!”

“A gentleman is hurt in the lane. Badly. His horse threw him. His leg is broken and he is unconscious.”

Mr. Barnes came out of the cowshed wiping his hands on a cloth. “Where?”

“The lower lane by Mr. Goulding’s east field. We need a flat wagon. Blankets. Men enough to lift him without moving the leg more than necessary.”

The farmer’s eyes sharpened. “Who is it?”

“Mr. Darcy of Netherfield.”

“Lord above.”

“Precisely. Please hurry.”

Within minutes a farm wagon had been stripped of sacks and lined with quilts. Two labourers came with Barnes. Mrs. Barnes thrust a blanket into Elizabeth’s arms and insisted upon sending her eldest boy for Mr. Jones.

“No,” Elizabeth said. “Send him to Longbourn first. Tell my father Mr. Darcy is injured and we are bringing him there. Then he may fetch Mr. Jones.”

“Longbourn, miss?” Barnes repeated.

“It is closest, and he cannot endure a longer journey.”

Nobody argued. When they returned to the lane, Darcy had regained some degree of consciousness. His eyes found Elizabeth immediately. “You came back.”

“I said I would.”

Barnes crouched beside him. “We’ll get you up, sir. Easy as we can.”

Darcy’s gaze remained on Elizabeth. “She is to be my wife.” The two labourers went very still.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Mr. Darcy.”

“I asked.”

“Yes, I recall the ordeal.”

“She said yes.”

Barnes looked at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked at Barnes. The farmer, who had five daughters and an instinct for survival, abruptly became fascinated by the wagon wheel.

“Let us first keep you alive,” Elizabeth said sweetly. “We may discuss the rest later.”

Darcy considered this. “A sensible wife.” One of the labourers coughed into his sleeve.

Lifting him was terrible. Even with four men and a blanket used as a makeshift litter, there was no way to prevent all movement. Darcy did not cry out. His jaw clenched so hard Elizabeth feared his teeth might crack. When they settled him on the wagon, sweat stood on his forehead despite the cold. Elizabeth climbed up beside him without asking anyone’s permission.

He found her hand. She allowed him to hold it. Only because he was injured, she told herself. Only because his fingers were cold. Only because every jolt of the wagon made his face tighten and his grip become desperate. Longbourn appeared through the trees with its familiar brick front and smoke rising from the chimneys.

Mrs. Bennet came flying out before the wagon had stopped. “Lizzy! What in heaven’s name—Oh! Mr. Darcy!”

Behind her came Jane, Kitty, Lydia, Mary, Hill, two maids, and Mr. Bennet at a considerably more dignified pace. Darcy opened his eyes at the commotion.