AN

FYI the Wickhams will make an appearance in a few chapters time.

The natural light had started to diminish as the search party continued their efforts to find the master, but each and every man refused to give up due to darkness as dusk fell. Torches were lit, and oil lanterns were given out to each man as a means to illuminate the ebony skies and brighten the darkest corners of the estate. The master's own hounds were also let loose after they were allowed to take in his scent. It was hoped that one of the animals would track him down with its superb hunting skills and the offering of a favourite treat had spurred them on. It had occurred to Mrs Reynolds that they would be able to make use of the hunting hounds, but Richard quickly pointed out that those particular dogs had been bred to kill their find, so the idea was put to rest.

It was around two in the morning, when a distant gunshot was fired from one of the fields about a half mile away; its detonation was only faint, but distinct and could be heard from the house as it penetrated the quietened night's air with a slight echo. Mr Fellows, a long established tenant, had found Darcy face down on a makeshift pathway around the edge of the field. A large branch was discovered nearby, which had recently been ripped from one of the trees by the storm, and it was hastily assumed that this had struck a blow to the master's head and so rendering him unconscious. With a flurry and little dignity, the men managed to get Darcy back to the house on a feeble cart that one of the tenants provided.

Both Elizabeth and Georgiana woke to the cacophony of echoing sounds that filled the entrance hall. They looked at each other with fear as orders were given to the men who carried Darcy into the house. Had he been found dead, or was he still alive? How injured was he if luck was on his side and he still breathed? Was he awake or unconscious? Many questions found their way into Elizabeth's thoughts, and the bilious feeling in her stomach led her to believe the worst, for she had not heard her husband's voice amongst the multitude of shouts and cries.

The mistress ran into the vestibule, followed closely behind by Georgiana. There, she found her husband lying on one of the settees that she, herself, had fallen asleep on during the first night's festivities. How different this scene looked, for his body was motionless and his face smeared with blood. Richard was by Darcy's side, commanding him to wake. "Darcy! Can you hear me? Wake up, man!" he cried out over and over again, but the master did not stir. "Mrs Reynolds. We must get him warm. Have the fires lit in his bedchambers if they have not already, and plenty of blankets. We need to get him upstairs and warmed through," Richard commanded.

"Should we get a hot bath ready?"

"NO!" he cried out. "That could kill him. No brandy either. He needs sweet and warm drinks once he comes around, but until then, we need to warm him slowly as his body needs time to adjust." Another flurry of activity emerged from his instruction, and the master's weakened body was carried upstairs. Once situated, Elizabeth, Georgiana and Mrs Reynolds were ushered into the sitting room, whilst Richard helped Roger with removing Darcy's clothes as they were soaked through.

Elizabeth did not know what to do. She watched with heedless attention as the servants ran from here to there as they moved about the room. "This cannot be happening," she said only to herself. "Surely this is occurring in my head? How can this be!?" She felt a lump build in her throat until she could hold her emotions no longer. First, it was a single tear, then several and before she knew herself, she was sobbing uncontrollably. Mrs Reynolds could see that the mistress was building up to a frenzy, so hoped a stiff drink from the master's decanter he kept in the liquor cabinet may calm her; sweet tea would not fix her present state. She tried to hand her the drink, but Elizabeth was not mentally processing her surroundings; she was only self-absorbed in her current turmoil.

"I have called for Dr Evans already ma'am…. Ma'am? Do you hear me?" she called out several times, but Elizabeth was now bordering on hysteria.

Richard heard the hullabaloo from the master bedchambers and came back into the room. Seeing Elizabeth and her state of mind, only gave him one option, which was drastic by anyone's count. Kneeling down in front of her, he prayed to God to forgive him for what he was about to do; then with little warning, he slapped her across the face.

Elizabeth stopped immediately, only to stare at her cousin with wide eyes that portrayed her shock. "Darcy will kill me for what I just did, but Elizabeth, I knew of no other way to bring you around." Elizabeth sat there, saying not a word; her lips trembled in the aftermath of her emotional onslaught, and there was a risk she would return to her temporary insanity. "Do not start up again, do you hear me?! You need to be strong for when your husband wakes up."

"I want Fitzwilliam!" she sobbed.

"I know you do. The doctor will be here shortly, as Mrs Reynolds sent a boy to fetch him a half an hour ago; we cannot do much until he arrives. We have covered him in blankets whilst the fires are being brought up to temperature in his room and in here, hopefully, it will not be long before they are blazing."

She looked around the room and noticed the maids were stoking the fire. "What about in the meantime? The bed and bedding are cold! You know how it is when you first get into a bed on retiring if it has not been heated first!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Why was the fire allowed to die down?!"

"I think everyone was too concerned with not having found Darcy, Elizabeth. Do not blame the staff as they have been upset by this event and most of them have been out searching. I would suggest you get under the blankets with him, as he will absorb the heat from your body in the meantime," Richard stated.

"But, Richard, Elizabeth cannot do that. It is not ladylike," Georgiana cried out at his less than proper request.

"Be damned with propriety! Do you want your brother to die?!" At this, Georgiana started to cry, but Elizabeth did not take notice of her caterwauling and ran into his rooms, where she burrowed beneath the layers of bedding that the valet had just place atop of his master. She snuggled against her husband's coldness and would not move, hoping that her warmth was enough to assist with his healing.

When Dr Evans arrived, Elizabeth was made to leave. At first, she refused, stating that she wished to remain, but Richard coaxed her into the private sitting room, just long enough to allow the doctor some privacy whilst he examined his patient. It was sometime later when he re-emerged."Mrs Darcy, I cannot see any injuries other than maybe concussion. He does have a small insignificant bump on the head and a gash to his temple, but the cut is only minor and does not require stitching. It is unlikely the branch which fell, struck him directly and I am more inclined to think that his horse was startled by the bough breaking and Mr Darcy fell from the beast.

"His pupils are shrinking and dilating in response to light being shone into them, which is a good sign. I must warn you, however, that the length of time he has been out in the open could result in him getting a chill or even a fever. This is only a possibility, mind you, and as he is a robust, healthy sort of man of few years, he should be able to fight off anything that manifests. Keep the room as warm as possible and do not let the fires diminish. I would advise you to return to his side to assist in warming him up. If he stirs and is able to drink, give him plenty of warm, sweet tea, as he is likely to be in shock.

"I will call back tomorrow to see how he is, but if his state changes before then and he awakens fully, or he becomes worse, please have a servant fetch me at once. Other than that, it is only a matter of time before he makes a reappearance into the world. I can examine him further when he is coherent."

After the doctor left, Elizabeth stood and started to pace the room. She was no longer upset, but angry. "That is the second time he has been thrown from that horse, this year! I want rid of the beast! Get it out of the stables, for I do not wish to see it ever again!"

"You cannot be serious. Elizabeth, think! He has had that horse since childhood; you cannot shoot the poor thing!" Richard explained.

"I did not say that. I want it gone!" she responded.

"No, I will not allow it!" Georgiana said as she stood up. Her voice was unlike anything Elizabeth had heard from the youngster. "My brother loves that horse, and you cannot do this to him. I will not allow it!"

"Who is mistress in this house?!" Elizabeth seethed.

"You are, dear sister, but you are not thinking straight! Would you cause your husband such heartache as to rid him of his most beloved steed." At this Elizabeth collapsed on the floor in another wave of sobs.

"I want him here, I want him to hold me and for everything to be how it was. Why did he have to go out when it was beginning to storm?"

On hearing this, Richard ordered Georgiana to go to bed and for the servants to retire for the night, knowing that tomorrow could possibly bring on another long day of restlessness as they wait for the master to awaken.

"But cousin, I wish to stay," Georgiana pleaded.

"Now, Georgie. There is nothing you can do at this moment in time. Once he wakes, then you can sit with him. He will probably have to stay in bed for a while and will quickly get bored and morose, so company will be desperately needed then. Besides, it's very late, and you have had no sleep. Go to bed; you will need your strength for when he wakes and in ill humour."

After Georgiana left to retire to her rooms, Richard pulled his cousin to her feet and placed her back on the settee. "It is a waiting game, Elizabeth. There is not much we can do to help, other than keep watch. It is best for you to return to his bed and keep the warmth under the bedding. If he wakes in the night, then we can call the doctor. Go to him; he needs you."

Elizabeth was only able to hold herself together as she nodded in agreement. She bid Richard goodnight and ran back into the master's chambers, where she quickly undressed, dived back under the covers, and clung her naked body to his like a disturbed limpet.

As she lay there, she watched for any signs that he may stir. Any flicker of life or groan of annoyance. It seemed like hours that she attended, staring at him in the silence that filled the room, urging him to wake. "Fitzwilliam, please wake up. You cannot leave me now that I have found you. I do not think I could cope without you by my side. You are my light, my love, my happiness, my everything," she whispered to him. She recognised her deep love for him in her avowal. How could she have overpassed her feelings? He was her saviour, her Sir Lancelot of the Lake, who had come and rescued her. Not only that, he had paid her such sweet attentions since their acquaintance that any woman would find it a struggle to not fall deeply and irrevocably in love with him. He was handsome, that she established almost immediately, but Darcy had a kind and giving heart. She could not have asked for a better man in this world to be her life's partner. He was not always serious, and when they were alone, he was as much of a tease as she. She had met her match, her component in a battle of banters, and she loved it… She loved him. "Please, come back to me… I love you!"

As she lay beside him, she recollected his many looks at her. Most were affectionate; none were unfavourable. A warm feeling started to churn in her as she remembered his gentle words of affection. Was he in love with her also? He had never declared himself to her, and she could not assume that because she loved him, that he returned her sentiment. Then she remembered the note,I wish to discuss something with you as a matter of great importance to the felicity we share within our marriage. Was he going to declare himself?

Her deliberation had her thinking of how long she had loved him? She pondered on the last few months, since their acquaintance, but could not identify a time or place, for it had been coming on so gradually, that she hardly knew when it had begun. She was brimming with the tender affection and had probably been so for some time.

She placed her palm flat against his chest so that she could feel the reassuring beat of his heart and fell to sleep next to him, exhausted from the calamity of the day.

Elizabeth was awoken the following morning by her hand being covered with another. She recognised the touch of her husband. She sprung up from her resting place and looked down at Darcy from above. But he was not awake or was there any signs of him stirring. Had he placed his hand on top of hers, or had she pushed her own hand under his in her sleep? She could not determine. She lay there, her eyes upon him in such a fixed vigilance, that even Prince Regent would be proud to call her his most diligent sentry guard if he were ever to award her such an opportunity. But as she continued to stare, she found herself lulled back into the comfort of his warmth and fell into a light sleep.

An hour went by before there was a gentle tap on the door. Elizabeth, who was still unclothed, had pulled the blanket to her chin and called to enter. As the door opened, she saw Georgiana standing there, puffy-eyed and blotchy faced; she had been crying. "Can I come in, Elizabeth?"

"Of course, but can you hand me my robe from on top of the ottoman. I am in rather a state of undress." Georgiana gasped as a bare arm and shoulder appeared from under the covers.

"You have no clothes on!"

"I thought it best for the body heat to permeate. Do not be alarmed; your brother is none the wiser." She did not wish to divulge that she had slept with her husband in such a way for nearly all the days that they had been married. The young lady turned around to allow Elizabeth to dress.

"Is there any change?"

"Not really. I thought he had grabbed my hand in the night, but after watching him this morning, I think I may have pushed it into his hold during my sleep. He has not stirred at all."

"He will wake up, will he not, Elizabeth? I do not know what I will do if he dies."

"He will not die, Georgie. I felt the same as you last night, but since the doctor said that he could find nothing wrong, I am forever hopeful that he will make a complete recovery."

"But what if he is wrong?"

"I doubt he would put his reputation on the line with such hopes if he felt there was a risk he was wrong, and I am sure the doctor has seen this before and knows that he will wake up in due course. It has only been a matter of a few hours, Georgie. He needs time to heal." Elizabeth had already returned to the bed, but Georgiana would not leave, hoping that she could sit with her brother for at least a short while. "Do you wish to read to him? I have read in books that patients, who are not awake, can sometimes hear us?" Then she remembered her declaration last night. Had he heard her tell him she loved him?

There had been no signs of improvements during the course of the day. In which time, Richard had returned, Georgiana had wept, and Elizabeth wished everyone would leave her alone with her husband but appreciated that they were all concerned. Elizabeth had been persuaded to remove herself long enough to have a bath and dress in a more appropriate attire as she doubted Darcy would have wanted Richard to see her in her nightgown. The family and even a few of the higher servants spent time reading to the master during the day, hoping that somewhere, in the depths of his mind, he was aware of all his surroundings and would wake.

By nightfall, everyone except Elizabeth retired. She sat on the bed, watching her husband as she had the night before in the glow of the candlelight, pleading with him to awaken. The day had been stressful; she felt herself weaken on more than one occasion and had to remove herself to the privacy of her own rooms for a few moments in order to compose herself once more. She could not let the world know that she was unable to handle the situation so wore a brave face, allowing everyone to see that Mrs Darcy was a strong mistress who could handle anything, but deep down Elizabeth was lost.