Darcy tried to return to her room after the Gardiners vacated, but Georgiana scolded him and pushed him readily from the chambers:
"You have not slept brother, and are no use to Miss Bennet as you are. I have been sleeping blissfully all night and am easily the right choice to keep her company. Sleep tonight, you may stay with the lady tomorrow. I trust you will acquiesce most politely to my request, or be forcibly removed." Georgiana might be shy when out in society, and when meeting new people, but around her brother she was comfortable enough to speak clearly of her feelings.
Darcy rolled his eyes and stepped back, hands up in defeat, "Good night Miss Bennet. Do call if you need me to wring my sister's neck," he said in jest, then straightened, "Truly, Miss Bennet. Do not hesitate to wake me if you require anything." He swiftly exited the room and Elizabeth glanced at a smirking Georgiana.
"You've got him wrapped around your finger Miss Darcy."
"No. He just has good sense; that is all." Georgiana appeared timid again and Elizabeth sighed. The young woman was almost comfortable with Elizabeth, but she did occasionally creep back into her own skin. Lizzie had the feeling that Georgiana was affecting an overly excitable attitude to distract her from her situation. She didn't say anything, however, and Miss Darcy slid back onto what she now considered her own side of the mattress. She refused to sit in the chair beside the bed, as Lizzie had made some offhand comment earlier in the day about it being Mr Darcy's chair, and now the young Darcy could not find it in her heart to claim it. So instead she lay as far to the left of Miss Bennet as the bed would allow and told comforting anecdotes until she was sure that Lizzie had drifted to sleep.
The next day meandered along much the same. Lizzie woke late in the morning and took her laudanum, which did just enough to stop her head hurting and keep her in a dozy fog, although her ribs and ankle still made her gasp if she moved in the wrong way. Darcy seemed to drift in and out throughout the afternoon but seemed otherwise occupied. The Gardiners visited once or twice and every time they did, they spent at least the first five minutes apologising and crying. Elizabeth found she had no blame to bestow upon them for not noticing her disappearance and repeatedly informed them of her indifference to their grief, but they continued to pronounce it all the same. She doubted that they would ever stop feeling guilt, and for that she was sorrier than anything else. Her family should not suffer for the actions of one man.
Every couple of minutes it seemed she discovered a new bruise or cut on her arm, although of course she was exaggerating, and it occurred to her to make a game of it. When she suggested it to Miss Darcy, however, the girl seemed genuinely upset at the idea, and so she resolved to keep her humour in check around the timorous young woman.
In the evening, sometime before dinner was called, someone rapped at the door and Georgiana jumped in fright. She sprung up to answer it, trying to hide her fear, almost upending the game of Whist they had been undertaking. She quickly restraightened the cards and dashed to the door, opening it a crack and peering through suspiciously. She beamed suddenly and flung it open. Mr Bingley ambled through with a large tray in his arms.
"Mr Bingley! Oh how wonderful it is to see you!" Elizabeth called out and he put the tray on the table and walked instantly to her side.
"My sentiments must mirror yours Miss Bennet, for I don't suppose I have ever been so glad to see you well." He said, the slightest hint of distress in his voice as he added, "I can only recall how you attended to your sister at Netherfield and hope for a swift journey for your family so that she may be able to attend to you as ardently as you did she."
"And this, of course, would have nothing to do with your own wish to see my sister, would it, Mr Bingley?" Lizzie's eyes twinkled and Bingley blushed scarlet.
"I- I do not know to what you are referring!" He stuttered and she laughed.
"Oh, Mr Bingley, I am only teasing. But I am sure Jane would be pleased to see you, if you would beg her company. She was in London recently and visited upon your house, but was told that you were away on business." Lizzie watched as his pallor changed from crimson to white, "She was quite distraught, but she has managed to bear the deprivation of your companionship with every bit the grace and indifference I would expect."
Bingley rose and shook his head, apologising, as he darted from the room.
"What is wrong with Mr Bingley?" Georgiana asked, bemused.
"I believe he is endeavouring to right a wrong." Lizzie noted, and would not speak anymore on the subject, trusting that the girl was too meek to press the matter further.
Georgiana left her for dinner and all of sudden, for the first time since her arrival, she had a moment alone. It occurred to her that she had not bathed in days and that she hadn't changed her nightgown. The light outside the window was fading, and she feared that the approaching darkness would not be affected by the single flickering Gaslamp in the wall beside the window. Elizabeth should have been surprised at the existence of gas lighting in a household, but then she supposed that the Darcy family had enough money and enough sway in parliament to get the relevant permits. The other, much larger Gaslamp was all the way on the other side of the room, and Lizzie came to the rather sensible conclusion that she should not attempt to cross the room to turn it on, at least because she had no idea how. The darkness had almost completely enveloped the room now, and the gaslight to her left was sputtering slightly. She swallowed, suddenly fearful.
A shadow flickered across her and she flinched, drawing the covers up and sinking down lower into the mattress. She thought to cry out for help, but knew she would only appear foolish. She had not been afraid of the dark since she was a child, and she did not intend to let it conquer her tonight. Long tendrils reached out to her as the flame flickered higher and she closed her eyes. She could feel his weight on top of her and her head began to drum painfully. She could almost smell him, that mix of alcohol and a scent that was undeniably Wickham, something which she had found quite attractive at one time, now marred by the ordeal. Bile rose in her throat and she ripped the covers off herself and practically fell out of bed as she reached for the unused chamber pot. The bandages around her chest shifted and she felt a sudden wave of dizziness as something in her torso moved unnaturally, but she was too ill to notice. The second the metal touched her skin she retched violently, lying half out of the bed, her legs holding her up only by the strength of the bedcovers. She coughed and spluttered and heaved, and it took a moment for her to realise that someone was rubbing her back and humming softly.
She glanced around to see Georgiana singing a soothing melody and Bingley across the room turning on the other light. She shivered with relief as the room was bathed in a delightful golden hue. Her nausea slowly dissipating, she sat back and the young Darcy grabbed a wash cloth, wiping Lizzie's face and pressing another cold strip to her forehead to cool the fever that had taken residence there.
"There, there Miss Bennet," Bingley said sympathetically as he directed a maid to the chamber pot for removal, "you'll feel all the better for letting it out, I'm sure." He seemed unaffected by her sickness, but then Elizabeth supposed he had seen his fair share on his own and by his siblings.
Elizabeth felt cold flushes rip through her and pulled the sheets tighter. Her throat was burning and something felt funny in her chest, but she hadn't the strength to speak as unconsciousness claimed her.
She awoke to someone prodding her chest.
"Ow!" She cried, and tried to sit up, but there was a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up to see Mrs Reynolds leaning on her. She didn't need to look to her right; she knew who would be there.
"I'm sorry Miss Bennet, but if you do insist on launching yourself to the floor, you cannot expect your rib to stay where it is supposed to," Doctor Cain remarked as he poked her.
"Ah!" She bit down on her lip to silence her cries, and as she did, she realised that Georgiana was hovering in the doorway with averted eyes, whispering frantically to someone standing on the other side. She supposed it must have been Mr Darcy, for in her current state of undress, he would not have thought it proper to remain in the room, but it must have been he who called for the doctor. He was obviously waiting to hear if there was any serious damage.
"It's alright, Miss Bennet, no punctured lung this time," the Doctor raised a mocking eyebrow, "but do attempt to refrain from any strenuous activity in the meantime. No jumping on the bed, no frolicking about the fields, no swimming, you understand?"
She understood that he was trying to distract her from the pain she knew was coming but she played along, "Oh dear, I truly felt ready for a spot of frolicking, how disappoint–" She was cut off mid-word as Cain twisted something and her rib fell back into place with an unnatural thunk. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out, so great was the pain. She knew she was shaking, and she felt all the eyes in the room upon her in pity. A small groan escaped her as the doctor and Mrs Reynolds set about wrapping her chest again. Her heart was beating erratically and she felt every pulse of it as it travelled through her aching skull, down her thudding ribcage and around her grieving ankle, before flying back up to her head. Everything hurt. Her fingertips were tingling again.
When their work was done Mrs Reynolds handed Lizzie a new nightgown and she slipped it over her head, letting the housekeeper pull it down to her shins.
"Good grief Miss Bennet, I will say you bear pain remarkably well. I've seen young men put up more of a fuss than you." Doctor Cain said and patted the sheets down, indicating she should sit up. He placed another two pillows behind her head and guided her gently back down so that she was propped up comfortably, "Your head wound doesn't appear to be infected, which is good news, but it also doesn't appear to be any better. Your ankle, however, while it might look worse on the surface, is actually well on the way to mending."
Elizabeth nodded and glanced up at the worried Georgiana who was still huddling shyly and awkwardly in the corner. She suddenly began to laugh breathlessly despite the hurt it caused her ribs.
"Miss Bennet?" Cain looked confused.
"I'm sorry. It is just… from this vantage point, I realise that Miss Georgiana is quite a bit taller than I had initially thought! When she first appeared, she stood next to Darcy, which made her seem quite average in comparison, but now I see she must be at least half a head taller than myself!" She laughed again and shook her head, "Well that is a grave misappropriation of your character Miss Darcy and I apologise for thinking of you thusly. I will endeavour to alter my opinion to include this new perspective."
"Are you alright Miss Bennet?" Doctor Cain looked as though he were about to prescribe something for insanity. She nodded slowly.
"Of course. I am merely trying to distract myself from the current state of agony I find myself in." She said matter-of-factly, and the doctor shook his head.
"Well if it helps, continue rambling then my dear. As a medical man myself, I will offer you the more immediate solution of laudanum to dull the pain. I am also prescribing a large glass of wine, half of which is for the injuries, and the other for stress. Now please, Miss Bennet, rest and recuperate so that I do not have to visit you for at least another two weeks."
"But I quite like your company." Lizzie goaded him but he would not be cowed, simply pursing his lips as he handed her a dose of her medicine.
"Two weeks, Miss Bennet, promise me."
"Of course, Doctor Cain." Elizabeth said softly, her expression sobering as she felt the drug wash over her. She breathed in deeply and wiggled her fingers to remove the tingling, "I will see you not a moment before the end of this fortnight."
"Good." The doctor said sharply, and left the room. Mrs Reynolds followed and Georgiana shuffled over to the bed.
"Are you alright, Lizzie?" She asked quietly, still avoiding her gaze.
"Of course, Georgie, perfectly fine. If a little breathless."
"You did frighten us so Lizzie. For a moment, I thought…" She trailed off.
"Well, do not think of it anymore," Elizabeth said and Georgiana nodded, but that did not stop the tears falling silently down the girl's cheeks, "Oh come now Miss Darcy, do not be frightened. I am tired, but otherwise content, and I will be infinitely more upset if I am the cause of your renewed shyness."
Georgiana shook her head furiously, "It was not just me who you disturbed Lizzie. My brother looked so afraid. He was yelling and slamming doors and trying to wake you… He was terrified, Miss Bennet."
Lizzie felt her good humour fade and swallowed nervously, "Oh? Well, your brother is a sensible man, capable of more rational thought than you or I, I am sure. He will be fine, just as you will be. Just as I will." She said, but her stomach was squirming again with the now familiar feeling of panic and she felt it might never leave.
Georgiana tried to look uplifted, but Elizabeth could see that she was disheartened, and was about to offer a game when Mr Bingley re-entered the room, grumbling loudly under his breath. He looked up and when he caught them both staring at him, he fixed his collar and traipsed forward.
"Ah, good, you're awake. I have decided to offer myself as a, uh, caregiver for the evening, as Darcy has urgent business to attend to, and Georgiana must be exhausted, having not slept since yesterday. I will not be a bother to you Miss Bennet – I will take up camp by the window and write some letters if you deem that acceptable?" He asked politely, and Elizabeth was once again charmed by his good manners and pleasing countenance. She agreed, but Georgiana was having none of it.
"Lizzie, I wonder if you would allow me to remain in here as well? I swear I will sleep, I just… I would feel guilty if I left you again so soon after… and if you need to use the bathroom or something during the night, I can be of help." She offered apprehensively. Bingley looked as though he were about to protest but Elizabeth nodded.
"Of course. Both of you are welcome, and I thank you for giving up your time and rest to take care of me. I am sure I am undeserving of such attentions." She leant back and snuggled into the covers, shifting the pillows around her until she was cocooned agreeably, and found sleep waiting patiently for her to accept it.
The next morning her fever had returned and she woke bathed in sweat and gasping for air. Bingley and Miss Darcy both moved to help her, but she waved them off, peeling the covers back and sliding her feet carefully down to the floor. She shuffled gradually to the bathroom door and let herself in. A maid followed her and drew the bath while she slowly undid her nightgown and removed her bandages and eventually sat down in the hot water. It was instantly relaxing, and she sunk as far down as possible in the water, until only her nose was showing. When she emerged, she felt as though her fever was subsiding, but her head wound did not take kindly to the heat of the liquid and began to ache. She lamented the warmth and comfort of the bath long after she had returned to bed.
That day disappeared quickly. She drifted in and out of consciousness, and whenever she woke she found only the brief smile of Bingley and the timid gaze of Miss Darcy for reassurance. It had been, she believed, nearly four days since the incident with Wickham, and she had already discovered that sleep was the easiest escape for her tortured thoughts and twisted memories. Of course even sleep wasn't free of her torment, and she found herself waking semi-frequently from nightmares and flashbacks.
At one point, Bingley disappeared for over an hour, and when he returned, he shared an annoyed glance with Georgiana. Lizzie was about to ask what bothered him when Georgiana exhaled crossly and strolled from the room. Bingley offered his newspaper to Lizzie as distraction and she took it graciously, but could not help wondering why both of her friends seemed so distressed.
She must have dozed off, because she was woken by someone yelling furiously in the corridor.
"Don't you dare presume to tell me how to conduct myself in my own home Bingley, may I remind you that you are here under invitation?" Darcy's voice was echoing loudly. Lizzie blinked in shock and looked around the room, but could find neither Bingley nor Georgiana and realised they must both be in the hall with Mr Darcy.
"Darcy, she is ill." Bingley's voice was quieter, but no less clear in his tone.
"Do you think I am not aware of this?!" Darcy roared and she heard a door slam as the voices moved yet closer.
"Brother please?" That was Georgiana's voice, anxiously begging.
"Go to bed, Georgiana, I will deal with you tomorrow." His voice softened slightly, but within a moment it was raised again, "and you, Bingley, will leave me be. I have urgent business to attend to."
"What could be more urgent than attending to Miss Bennet? I thought you were invested in her well-being Darcy? Do not tell me you can shut her out so easily?" Bingley implored, and Lizzie found herself swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She pushed herself up and leaned on a bedpost as she crept closer to the door in order to hear the argument. She wasn't like her mother and sillier sisters; she did not care for gossip, but she did find her curiosity piqued at the mention of her own name.
"How dare you!" Darcy bellowed.
"Well you certainly aren't acting like you give a damn!" Bingley shouted back, finally raising his voice to his friend, "You haven't even glanced at the door to her room since yesterday! You keep begging urgent business, but I see no evidence of any such thing. You are avoiding her, Darcy, and I cannot for the life of me understand why." Bingley finished, and Elizabeth finally reached the door. She slowly pulled it open, and crept into the corridor. Darcy was standing not twenty yards in front with his back to her, but Bingley saw her. He didn't let it show on his face however, and quickly switched his gaze back to Darcy who was looking down over the balustrade, "Darcy." He prompted.
"I cannot see her Bingley." He whispered, "I am no use to her." He sounded defeated. He hung his head in shame and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I cannot help her. She is distressed and I find it impossible to think of a way to alleviate the pain. I can't take the strain for her, Bingley, I am not strong enough."
"Well thankfully, I never asked you to take the weight, Darcy." Elizabeth panted, leaning heavily on the railing and Darcy swung around in shock, "In fact, I think I recall instructing you to do the opposite. I absolved you of blame, Mr Darcy, and yet you continue to hold yourself accountable for the actions of an evil and desperate man." She took a step towards him and stumbled, expecting to hit the floor, but Darcy's hands materialised around her waist, supporting her.
"Elizabeth, I…" Darcy's face twisted into a tortured expression and he shook his head, "How much of that did you hear?"
"Enough to warrant leaving her room," Bingley suggested, but Darcy silenced him with a glare.
"You are of use to me, Mr Darcy," Lizzie whispered so only he could hear, "You can help me. You already have." She lifted her hand to her head as her head spun, and Darcy stepped closer still to hold her upright. His arms were now wrapped fully around her waist, and he half walked her, half carried her back to her room. Once she was safely tucked away, he turned to Bingley.
"I am sorry, Charles. I did not mean to lash out at you, I was… I was just…" Darcy tried, but Bingley smiled and brushed the apology aside.
"No matter Darcy. Soon her family will arrive, and then she will have more than enough of us to take good care of her." He said, and left the room in search of his own warm bed. Darcy looked ruefully over to Elizabeth. She was peering back at him curiously and he sat in his chair and studied her. She was pale and was breathing quite fast, but otherwise she seemed alright. She seemed about to say something, but he started first.
"You frightened me." He said, his voice barely audible, "You scared me half to death, Elizabeth."