'Is he well enough for me to pay a visit?' Bingley asked nervously as he eyed the staircase
'Yes...He has been asking you. I'm more than sure he won't he rest until he see's your face' Elizabeth said with a sad smile, Bingley wasted no time to pound up the stairs; the door was creaked open, he opened it as quietly as a man could...the room was dimly lit by a candle, Charles could hardly make his way over to the bed. When he did, the light of the candle began to lighten.
Bingley could finally see Darcy's pale and unrecongizable face; pale tone and sore eyes, sweat beating down his brow and moistening his lips. Darcy was only covered by one blanket, which didn't help his severe chills by any means. A white wine shirt was his only article of clothing, thank heaven the quilt was keeping his lower hide nice and warm. Darcy began whispering something beyond understandable, Bingley put his hand on his forehead.
'Darcy? Fitz...Open your eyes..It's Bingley.' Charles whispered gently, he sighed a collective breath when Darcy's eyes opened slightly
'Charles...' Darcy said in a voice, that was barely a whisper; more like a mumble.
'No talking! You need to rest everything including that ludcrious voice of yours...Now, how did you end up here?' Charles had to make this seem like a normal conversation, Darcy never liked pity.
'I can't recall the events...' Darcy said in a weak whisper, his voice was trailing off.
'Though it may be another rumour, Lizzie had just informed me that you sent for me on several occasions' Bingley said with a slight smile
'I may be the most prideful gentleman I have had my misfortune to know, but when it comes to the matters of comfort whilst around friends...I don't deny it.' Darcy said in a weak voice
'Do you remember our first meeting? 25 years ago, you were nothing but a ten-year-old who came from nothing but a wealthy party...and me, a young five-year-old no less, and had every cent to my name. It was in the park, and we both fell into this horrendous mud puddle. You were a stiff coat, and walked away after introducing yourself as a wealthy gent should; we thought we would never encounter each other again. Sure enough, we did...and became the friends that every one would hate not to envy.' Bingley remarked distractingly, he kept on thinking what could happen if these were his friend's last moments on Earth.
Bingley remembered himself and smiled at the seemingly concious Fitz before standing up to fill the basin with fresh seemingly warm water. As he poured the water, he could tell that Darcy was watching his every movement; watching with embarrassment. He had never been this helpless before. Bingley grabbed a fresh white rag and dipped it into the water, after several seconds he used it to help ease the fever by placing it on Fitz's forebrow. Then something surprising happened, Darcy clutched onto Bingley's wrist and held his hand in his weak grasp; he looked at him squarely in the eye.
'Charles Bingley...My life as I know of it, is ending faster than antcipated. Can you try to make it slow down?' Darcy pleaded disorientally.
'I'm going to see you through this, Darcy...Trust me' Bingley said assuringly as his friend finally fell asleep.
Bingley took care of his friend all morning and into the early evening, Lizzie said she could take over; but Charles was persistent and insisted that he stay with Darcy another night. She said he could stay only for three hours into the night...Darcy did a bit of vomitting, and shaking during the night; but thanks be praised for dear Mr.Bingley, he took care of him in anyway possible. Cleaning the sheets after he felt ill on his stomach, changing the cloths on his forehead, holding his hand through the muscle spasms. Anything a man could do, he did.
Morning came earlier than expected, when Bingley woke up it was to glaze of the sun peeping through Darcy's window sheets. Thankfully, the light in the room did not cause a stir in Fitz and Charles was able to stand up and stretch his legs. He went downstairs to join the family for breakfast, he kissed Jane on the cheek and gave Catherine's shoulders a firm squeeze as he sat in his seat. Lizzie calmly got up and went upstairs to see to her husband.
'How is he?' Jane asked quietly
'Better...better. He's able to speak, of course most of its just a whisper; but I can understand him. He-he can't move yet, but I suppose it's because Lizzie has him coadled in sheets that's he unable to flinch.' Bingley explained jokingly, he was hiding his fear behind his wit.
Bingley knew something was wrong, he had never seen Jane nor Catherine this quiet at the breakfast table, Bingley put his fork down with a slight clink and then faced his wife in a solemn tone, which was quiet difficult for this joking gent.
'What's the dark secret that you are refusing to share with me?' Bingley asked
'It's something about Fitz...someone wishes to see him' Jane said in a soft tone
'Who? One of the Bennet sisters, no doubt?' Bingley said with a slight smirk raising in
'Lady de Bourg is arriving this evening with her arrogance in toll, no doubt' Jane said annyoingly
This was a shock, nobody had seen or heard of Lady De Bourg after Elizabeth and Fitz's wedding, there was no doubt in the Bingley family that De Bourg was coming for reason...to stick her nose where it didn't belong.