AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lizzy stared at the hated chains. Dared she sneak into Stimple’s chamber and attempt to steal a key? She peered more closely and noticed something she had not seen before—the chains were longer than they needed to be and looped around the bedstead to shorten them. Carefully, she lifted them, flinching a bit when they clanked—but Stimple’s snores continued unabated.
When she finished, it appeared he had enough play in the chain to stand. He did not seem to notice. She carefully chafed his wrists, her belly clenching when he did not move. But after a few moments, he mumbled something so faintly she put her ear closer to his mouth.
“Please, sir, what do you need?” she asked.
He moved his mouth, but nothing emerged. He seemed slightly more wakeful, however. His eyes stayed closed, but he tried harder to speak.
“Clot-pole…wa-ter,” he mumbled.
“Water? I shall fetch some,” she said.
She raced back down the stairs to her bedroom, so dismayed she hardly cared if she was discovered. Mr Darcy could be dying while the household slept and his attendant snored! Carrying the water pitcher, she had to slow a bit returning. She had no cup but would have to manage, somehow.
She was holding her breath upon her return—what if he–he…had worsened while she was away?
He lay upon the bed as still as death, but he had taken advantage of the play in the chains and turned onto his side.
Please, please, please,she thought. “Can you take some water, sir?” she whispered.
At the mention of water, his eyes opened to slits. He managed a nod.
He was too weak to sit up; drinking might choke him if she attempted to pour it into his mouth. She must give the barest amount at a time, which would take longer. Still, something was better than nothing. Pouring a small amount into her palm, she brushed his cheek with the other.
“Please open your mouth, Mr Darcy,” she said gently.
It took him several seconds, as if he had to force his mouth to obey him, but he did it. She dribbled the water onto his tongue. Some spilled, but most went into his mouth. After a few seconds, he opened his mouth again.
She repeated the process several times. Finally, he nodded. Enough, she supposed. She set the pitcher down then, and not knowing what else to do, sat in the chair near his bed and simply…watched. He appeared to be dozing.
After what seemed several minutes, he opened his eyes. His lips worked. She could tell he was forcing his unruly mouth and mind to coordinate. “Th-thank…you.”
“Perfectly said, sir,” she replied, so proud of him for trying so hard, and hurting for the noble, impatient man she had known so briefly. Although reduced to begging for a few drops of sloppily administered water, he was yet the gentleman.
Slowly, the minutes passed until she was half-dozing, but the sound of the chains’ rattle startled her awake when he moved, heaving himself upright. She bit her lip.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked.
He looked over at her, as if he had forgotten her presence in the room.
“Georg-ie,” he began but couldn’t seem to add any other words.
“Your sister is well,” she immediately reassured. “She is very concerned for you, of course. She is sleeping now. I—we were not sure…we met Mr Donavan, and his plan…it sounded very…strenuous,” she finished weakly.
He gave her a sardonic look.
She knew the answer to the question before she asked it, but she asked it anyway. “Do you think…his treatment will be of any use?”
He shook his head once, a definite negative.
“I was afraid of that. I understood little of what he was saying about the body’s humours.” She sighed. “But it sounded like nonsense to me.”
“Weedy…no…wa-ter…help,” he muttered.
“Would you like more?” she asked hopefully.
He stared at her a long moment then nodded once.
Since he was sitting upright, she brought the pitcher to him. “I am sorry I do not have a cup.” Trying to hold it at the correct angle not to dribble, she brought it to his lips.
