Page 119 of Mr. Darcy’s Diamonds

He did not remember ever before being so nervous to talk to Elizabeth. She did not seem angry, exactly, but he did not know why she had refused to speak to him during the weeks before her illness. What he really needed was to get her alone for a walk outside, but she was not strong enough for that yet.

“I’m right glad to see you, Miss Lizzy.”

Elizabeth smiled more than she had in weeks to see her trusty friend Matthew waiting outside her bedchamber to help her downstairs that evening. She had had Dinah’s comforting presence for several days as she woke weakly for brief periods and had been used to her care before she realized she had been without it.

“I have missed you, Matthew. Thank you for coming.”

A shadow passed over his face. “I only wish I had come last month. Surely then you wouldn’t have been ill.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Are you suggesting you are a better apothecary than Mr. Jones or would have done a better job helping me out of the stream than Mr. Darcy?”

Matthew reddened. “Sorry, Miss. I’m not suggestin’ anythin’ of the kind. Only, if I’d been walkin’ with you as I shoulda’ done…”

“Thank you for your concern, Matthew, but you must not blame yourself in the least. And as you see, no harm done.”

“Mr. Darcy said your leg was hurt, too.”

“Was it? I did not even know. It must have been nothing much and healed before I was aware of it. See, no reason for regret.” Elizabeth would check her legs after dinner, but she could not feel anything wrong with them. She began to walk down the hall and stumbled slightly, but it was from general weakness, not a leg injury.

“Are you certain you’re well enough to come down tonight, Miss? Should you return to your bed?”

Elizabeth took a deep breath and pulled back her shoulders.

“I have been in bed long enough. If you will lend me your arm, I will be well.”

Darcy stood as Matthew escorted Elizabeth into the drawing room. She looked pale and thinner—no, her cheeks were now a rosy pink, and he smiled to see her walking toward him. Was that Matthew’s doing or hers? Matthew knew him best of the party, and he would not be surprised if the footman thought Elizabeth would wish to speak to him. He liked that man more and more. He stepped toward them to relieve him of his burden.

He nodded to Matthew appreciatively and offered Elizabeth his own arm, which she took with only slight hesitation.

“Thank you, Matthew.” Elizabeth spoke softly, but her voice was music to his ears. She no longer coughed, and he looked down at her, so improved from the last time he had seen her a week and a half ago. He realized he should say something to that effect, but others approached before he could form the words.

“Miss Elizabeth, you are very welcome. Jane has kept us apprised of your recovery, but it is so good to finally have you joining us.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bingley.” She looked around at everyone else assembled, Miss Bennet, Miss Bingley, the Hursts, and then her eyes stopped on a woman who must be unknown to her.

“Miss Elizabeth, do you know Mrs. Pumphrey? Your Uncle Bennet brought her here as a chaperone when you were…injured.”

“Hello, Mrs. Pumphrey.”

She sounded tired already, so as soon as the greetings were completed, Darcy led her to a settee and sat beside her, while the others took seats throughout the room to await their summons for dinner.

“Are you fatigued? Would you like me to request a tray for you to dine here?” He spoke in hushed tones so as not to call attention to her state.

Elizabeth smiled, but something in it appeared sad. “I will rest here a moment, and then I think I will be able to make my way to the dining room…with your assistance?”

He could not help the smile that spread across his face. Was she really going to speak to him again? And not only because her footman had mistakenly given her into his care?

This was his chance to talk with her, but he had never settled on what he wanted to say. It was as though he had not really believed this moment would come. And now he was left with nothing in his head but how stunningly beautiful she was. Her eyes were a little tired, but her pink cheeks and full lips were as tempting as ever. He pulled his gaze from her mouth and breathed deeply, but that only gave him an added measure of her intoxicating scent. He closed his eyes for a moment to ground himself, but they startled open when he felt Elizabeth’s hand on his forearm.

“Are you well, Mr. Darcy? Did you also fall ill when you rescued me from the stream?”

He swallowed at her concern and the warmth of her gloved hand on his sleeve. He shook his head, searching for words but thinking only of holding her cold, wet form close to his chest.

“I was so worried about you, Eliz—Miss Elizabeth. We were all so worried. We have been anxious for your recovery.”

She gave him a small but sincere smile and then looked around the room again. He followed her gaze. Mrs. Pumphrey sat close to Bingley and Miss Bennet but also kept an eye on him and Elizabeth, not far away. The Hursts and Miss Bingley were closer to that trio than to him and Elizabeth, but Darcy could tell they were speaking of the only subject they had entertained since their arrival, Miss Bingley’s spring wedding. He had not heard Bingley’s sister ask after the wedding happening next week, but perhaps she had while he was away from their company.

Darcy realized all at once that nobody else in the room acted particularly as though they had been anxious for her recovery, though he knew Miss Bennet had been, at least. He looked back to Miss Elizabeth just as she looked at him with a chuckle. Was she thinking the same as he had? He chuckled, too.