Apprehension and Desire: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (15 page)

Darcy felt his throat tighten. He knew how much Elizabeth loved and cared for her elder sister. Damn Richard and his big mouth.

“Do you deny it?” she asked.

Darcy braced himself inside. “No, I cannot deny it. I observed you sister most carefully, and she seemed to welcome his advances but stayed indifferent and demure, not showing any real affection, which convinced me she did not love Bingley. I did everything in my power to separate them, and at the time I rejoiced in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself.” he murmured the last sentence.

Only as he spoke the last sentence, did he realize how it must have sounded to her ears.

She lowered her eyes to the ground for a long minute, and when she eventually did look at him with all the hurt and pain, he wished she had not. Her beautiful eyes were full of tears, her pale face washed out, as if someone had slapped her.

She turned from him and started to walk.

“No, Elizabeth, wait!” he cried. “I did not mean it the way that sounded.” He caught her arm, stopping her in place for a moment, but she freed herself from his embrace and started to run. His height and long legs gave him an advantage, and he caught up to her soon. “Please, I did not mean to say that.” He grounded her in place, “I am ready to overlook your low connections, the impropriety of your family’s behaviour, everything. You are worth it. I know you are not like your family. You are so much better.” He was breathing harshly, his hands on her, trying to bring her closer to him.

“Do not touch me.” she said evenly and waited till he took his hands off her. “Who do you think you are?” she called, “You consider your family better than mine. They have more money, and that is the only difference between our families. My cousins do not keep mistresses, and neither of my aunts is so stupid, egocentric and ill behaved as Lady Catherine.” she paused, striving to calm herself. “My sister loved Mr. Bingley and has been heartbroken for months because of your selfishness and disdain for the feelings of others.” She took a step closer and cried into his face, her hands clenched into fists, “You are rude, conceited and arrogant! Certainly, you are not the gentleman you think yourself to be.”

As Darcy was digesting the assessment of his character, Elizabeth turned on her feet, and in her agitated state, she mistook a step, hooked her foot around a protruding root, and fell flat on the ground.

He was beside her before she could manage to lift herself to her arms and knees. “Elizabeth, are you well?”

“Fine.” she muttered, as he turned her on her back.

His eyes crawled over her body, hands touching, checking for injuries.

She sat up and touched her head. Then she attempted to stand up, but when her right foot touched the ground, she hissed. “My ankle!” She moved her weight on the other side and hissed again. “My knee...”

His arm went around her waist, keeping her in a standing position. Her face was twisted in pain, so he picked her up into his arms and carried her to the fallen trunk.

“Thoughtless, stupid...,” she was murmuring under her breath.

“Who, me?” Darcy asked, as he sat her down.

“No, I!” she cried angrily, “To fall down like that, to trip over my own feet.”

“Now, now, it could happen to anyone,” he soothed, lifting the hem of her dress.

“Which ankle is it?” he asked.

Elizabeth pointed to the injured one, and he removed her sturdy leather shoe to examine it.

“Ouch!” she cried out when he pressed harder.

“It is twisted, I am afraid.”

“My knee hurts more...,” she betrayed.

He tried to push the mass of petticoats higher, but she stopped him. “You cannot...”

He glanced at her. “What?”

“You should not... look there,” she glanced down at her lap.

“Should not see your legs? Has it not occurred to you that I will see them eventually one day?” he flipped her petticoats over her knees, exposing white stockings, and a few inches of naked thighs, visible above the garters. There was a bloody mark on the left knee.

He loosened the garter and pushed the stocking down. There was a tiny stream of blood coming from the small cut. He was so concentrated on checking the degree of her injury that he did not even feel excited with the fact he had his hands under her skirts for the first time.

“When you tripped, twisting your ankle, you must have hit your knee over a stone here, hard enough that it broke the skin even through the layers of your clothing.” He touched the skin around the cut, which was slowly changing colour into deep purple. “I do not like the sight of it. Knee injuries can be nasty and difficult to heal completely.”

Elizabeth pushed his hands away and covered herself. “I shall be fine.”

“I doubt it.”

He stood up and reached to pick her up, but she slapped his hands.

She frowned. “I do not want your help.”

“Elizabeth, do not be childish,” he tried to sound patient. “You cannot walk on your own.”

She lifted her chin high in the air and announced. “I will wait till someone comes passing by.”

Darcy did not reply, only walked to his horse and brought it closer.

“I am taking you to Longbourn, and then I will fetch a doctor.” He picked her up unceremoniously.

She attempted to struggle out of his iron embrace. “I do not need one.”

He ignored her and lifted her up on the horse , which, as he expected, silenced her instantly. A second later, he was in the saddle behind her.

“Now, hold on,” he said, bringing her closer to himself and kicking the horse into a fast gait.

“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth,” the old physician, Mr. Aiken, said as he entered Elizabeth and Jane’s bedroom.

“Good morning,” Elizabeth smiled, sitting on her bed, propped against the many pillows.

Darcy stood on the left side of her bed, the spot he had not left since he had carried her upstairs.

“What must I do with this girl?” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed from behind the man’s back. “I had thought that she would calm herself now, when she is almost engaged, but no! She wants to put me into an early grave. She is to become a wife and mother, the mistress of a grand estate, not climbing the trees like a naughty boy.”

“I was not climbing anything today, Mama,” Elizabeth protested.

“Oh, do be quiet, you wild girl!” Mrs. Bennet cried in anger, “What will Mr. Darcy think of you now? What if he does not take you, knowing your wild, wild ways? What if you killed yourself falling off that tree?” she took a calming breath and added weakly, “You have no compassion for my poor nerves.”

“It was not a tree, Mama!” Elizabeth spoke, her voice rapidly losing its patient tone.

Mr. Aiken turned to the older woman. “Now, now, Mrs. Bennet. No, need to exert yourself so.” He walked her to the chair. “I can already see that there is no danger to Miss Elizabeth’s life.”

He returned to Elizabeth, leaving Mrs. Bennet fanning herself with her handkerchief, and asked her good humouredly, “What did you break this time, Miss Lizzy?”

Elizabeth presented a toothy smile at the physician’s expression and then murmured. “I just twisted my ankle.”

“Just the ankle,“ Mr. Aiken sat on the chair which Jane pushed over for him. “Well, well, it is not that bad then. We have seen worse things on your part, have we not?” He looked around the room full of people, including all the Bennets, sans Mr. Bennet, who was expected to return from London any day, and Darcy, who still stood firmly by the bedside.

“May I be alone with the patient?” he asked.

Mrs. Bennet began pushing everyone out, when they physician glanced at Jane. “Miss Bennet will stay to help me, if necessary.”

Stubbornly, Darcy did not move from his post by Elizabeth’s side, eyeing the greying man somehow suspiciously.

Mr. Aiken raised his bushy eyebrows. “This gentleman?”

As Darcy did not react, Jane walked up to him, “Mr. Darcy, I think it would be better if you waited outside, or perhaps took tea in the parlour with all of us.” She took his arm and attempted to pull him decidedly towards the door.

Elizabeth looked at him. “Please, go with Jane.”

Darcy allowed himself to be walked out, while the physician lifted Elizabeth’s skirts and slowly examined the bruised, though no longer bleeding, knee and the ankle. He tried to bend the leg, and when Elizabeth hissed in pain, he said, “Aha.”

He dressed the small wound on the knee and said. “Four weeks in bed.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “No!” she cried.

“Yes.” He nodded. “And I will have to stabilize the knee, put the left leg into a brace to lessen movement. I do not like this swelling.”

“But four weeks?” Elizabeth pleaded.

Mr. Aiken’s face turned sober, and he asked very seriously, “You do not want to become a cripple, do you?”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“We shall see to it that she does not walk.” Jane assured, giving her sister a meaningful stare.

“Good.” He closed his bag and moved to the door. “I will be back shortly, and no moving from that bed.” He wagged his finger at  Elizabeth.

When Mr. Aiken opened the door, he found Darcy was waiting outside in the corridor.

Jane found it to be the appropriate time to introduce both men. “Mr. Aiken, this is Mr. Darcy, my sister’s intended. Mr. Darcy, this is our physician, Mr. Aiken. He has treated our family as long as I can remember.”

Darcy bowed his head with respect. “My pleasure. How is she?”

The physician glanced at the tall, sober looking young man. “Her ankle should heal within few days, but as for the knee, I will have to stabilize the left leg. It may be nothing, but contrary to the bones in the calves or arms, I cannot really feel whether something is broken, or dislodged, inside the knee. As a  precaution, she should not walk or move it for about a month or, at least, till the swelling goes down and she has no pain in it.

Darcy listened intently and then bowed again. “Thank you.”

“I will return with the braces,” Mr. Aiden added and moved down the corridor, with Jane following him.

Darcy walked inside the room and closed the door. Elizabeth did not look at him; she only stared out  the window. He sat on the edge of her bed.

“I am so sorry you are hurt and in pain,” he started. “I feel guilty...”

She turned her face to look at him. “The fault is entirely mine,” she interrupted him. “I cannot walk properly without hurting myself, it seems. Silly, silly me,” she murmured, exasperated, “Now, I will have to spend four weeks closed up in my room at home. I do not know how I will stand this,” she sighed miserably as she looked out the window again at the sunny day.

Darcy took her hand in both of his. Surprised, she gave him a long look, “Are you not angry with me?”

He shifted closer, his eyes serious. “I could ask you the same question.”

She shrugged, “I am usually angry... or rather irritated with you for one reason or another. For example, when you are so rude towards my mother.” She looked straight into his eyes, “I know that Mama is silly, and perhaps not the most intelligent woman in England, but she has a good heart, and she always means well. She is never purposely hurtful or cruel, never that. She is a good mother and would do everything for my sisters and me, and I think that she deserves some respect, if only for that. When you simply ignore her, as you do most of the time, and do not even bother to answer her questions civilly, you are hurting her and hurting me.”

Elizabeth glanced out the window again, and she did not see how Darcy lowered his head, his forehead furrowed.

After a moment, she added quietly, “I wonder sometimes whether your parents taught you such behaviour towards people. Perhaps things are different with the aristocracy.”

He did not say anything to her words, and she understood his reactions in her own way.

“You have every right to be displeased with me now, after I have criticized you so... and all that I said about your family.”

“You have given me a lot of to think about, to be sure,” he said at last.

Elizabeth lowered herself onto the bed from a sitting position to a lying one and turned on her side, careful not to bend the injured knee. “I am tired after getting up so early. I will try to nap till the doctor returns,” she whispered.

Darcy  looked around and found a knitted blanket folded on Jane’s bed. He reached for it and draped it over her.

She closed her eyes, pretending to sleep, but relaxed only when she heard his steps on the wooden floor, as he left the room.

***

Elizabeth sighed, her eyes wide open, staring into the dark night.

“Lizzy, are you  well?” she heard her sister’s sleepy voice coming from the nearby bed.

“I am well, Jane,” she whispered back.

“You sighed several times. I have thought perhaps your leg may be getting worse,” Jane murmured.

“No, no, I am sorry I have disturbed you. Go back to sleep.”

Jane rolled onto her other side.