Chapter Twenty-One

Amanda and I followed Wickham and the Bennetts through The Jerusalem, where they had momentarily paused to get directions to Mr Bingley's room. We followed them down a narrow corridor and entered the room where we found both Mr Bingley and Lydia.

'My Child! Oh, my child!' Mrs Bennett cried and ran to embrace Lydia, where Lydia sobbed into her shoulder. The rest of us stayed in the corner and tried to appear as unintrusive on this personal family matter as possible.

'Oh excellent! Look at this. You find me making a spear. Rousseau, you know. Noble savage, so forth. The book you lent me' babbled Mr Bingley. He was still clearly not in his right mind. I had to wonder whether this was the alcohol or just the effect of losing Jane.

'Why does my daughter weep, Mr Bingley?' asked Mr Bennett menacingly.

'Fundamental skills we have forfeited through privilege' Mr Bingley continued. He then stopped and sighed. 'I expect it's because she's bored.'

'Bored?' questioned Mr Bennett darkly.

'Our social experiment has proved dispiritingly unchallenging. Hammersmith is not the Amazon' Bingley sighed.

'You brought my daughter here alone? To spend the night with you alone? Tell me, Sir, what species of experiment is that?' asked Mr Bennett. I did not like the turn that this conversation was seeming to take.

All of a sudden Darcy appeared and burst through the door. 'Ah, well met, well met. Bingley, Miss Lydia and I have just now returned from the opera…'

'Darcy…' Bingley tried to interrupt.

'And the problem with the opera of course, is that one cannot…' Darcy continued.

'Sir, will you have done? Your subterfuge is well meaning, but it is puerile and demeans us all. There is no opera in Hammersmith. You've just arrived from God knows where, that much is plain. Miss Lydia and I came yesterday and have spent our hours philosophising' Bingley stated.

'Huh' snorted Mr Bennett in disbelief.

'Although her father would have it that we've been making the beast with two backs' Bingley rolled his eyes.

'Time to take the weapons from the wall, Mr Bingley' yelled Mr Bennett as he took off his coat and pulled a sword from a display on the wall. I could no longer not interfere. I didn't want anyone to get injured in this, nobody deserved it.

'Mr Bennett, please, you don't need to do this' I pleaded with him.

'Pick up your damn spear and take guard' he sneered, completely ignoring me.

'Oh Mr Bennett!' yelled Mrs Bennett and she was also ignored.

'Take up your stick damn you!' he yelled getting angrier by the second. 'You drivelling, anorchus imbecile!'

'No! Darcy do something!' yelled Manda.

'Imbecile is it?' sneered Bingley in return, finally picking up the stick to defend himself.

'Charles, put that down' said Darcy. What good did he think that would do? He was talking to Bingley as if he was a child that simply needed gently reprimanding!

'Drivelling, snivelling imbecile!' yelled Mr Bennett and began to attack Bingley with the sword. Everyone began to yell things to try to stop either party from attacking the other. Lydia and Mrs Bennett seemed to have decided that the best tactic was just screaming until it had stopped. I dodged slightly to my right, closer to the fireplace, in an attempt to miss a rogue swipe of Bingley's stick. The Amazon really wasn't a good option for him if he could miss as large a target as Mr Bennett in such close quarters. What I hadn't counted on was being in the wrong place when Bingley finally made contact with Mr Bennett's side. Mr Bennett stumbled backwards over the mantle and knocked me backwards and falling sideways himself and leaving a nasty gash in his arm that began to bleed all over the rug. Meanwhile I had taken the brunt of the fall and hit my head against the sharp corner of the mantle place. I sat in shock listening to Mr Bennett babble.

'Shocking business, bleeding on a fellow's rugs this time of year. What would Lady Catherine say?' he babbled seemingly in shock at the injury but having effectively calmed his anger.

I began to notice the pain in the back of my head. I reached my hand round and pulled it away to find it coated in blood. Well, that wasn't a good sign! Everyone suddenly seemed to notice that Mr Bennett was not the only injured party. Mrs Bennett and Lydia burst into sobs once again and continued to panic and Bingley joined them this time. Everyone else sprang into action. Manda left the room to tear up some linens to bind my head and Darcy summoned a servant and ordered them to bring his physician from London. However, my attention was focused on George who had leapt to my side and was attempting to stem the bleeding with his handkerchief until Manda had brought the linens. He was cupping my face with his other hand and was stroking small circles into my cheek, keeping me calm and grounding me. He was whispering sweet things to me but I was in too much shock and pain to be able to recall what he said.

However, I did focus at Amanda's panicked voice. Darcy had told her that the doctor would be here in an hour. 'In an hour she could be dead. She's lost half a pint of blood in two minutes, Darcy. You do the maths!' she replied. She then approached me and began gently binding my head.

'I'll be fine Manda' I said weakly.

'Of course you will. We'll get you stitched up' she smiled back but the smile didn't reach her eyes. I could tell she didn't believe what she was saying. 'This physician of yours, Mr Darcy, can he do stitches?' she asked Darcy.

'Stitches? He is not a dressmaker' he replied.

'Oh god!' I groaned. 'What I wouldn't give now for modern medicine' I attempted to joke. Manda just continued to look grim but George gave me a half-hearted smile in return.

'She needs stitches. Please tell me you understand that' Manda begged George.

'There is a woman here. She's arranged medical matters for me in the past. I shall bring her here directly' George stated, rubbing circles into my hand. 'We'll get you fixed up so you can continue to torment me.'

'Torment you?' I questioned with a smile.

'Shhh, you must save your strength' he kissed my cheek.

'Wickham, you are a bastard but you are the right bastard at the right time' Manda said in lieu of a thank you.

'One does one's best. Everyone you know, Miss Price, will one day prise your fingers from the raft and watch you drown. It's the way of the world. Everyone.' He stated and then shifted his eyes. It felt as though he were staring into my soul. 'Except me.'

Amanda backed off towards the corner to allow us a little privacy as George was saying goodbye. He pulled himself closer so that most of our upper bodies were in contact despite both being on the floor. He whispered in my ear 'I'll be back soon with help. You just hang on. You can't leave me, don't you dare.' His voice seemed to catch at the end and as I pulled away and looked into his eyes, they seemed to have filled with tears. This was the first time that I had seen George lose control of his emotions in this way. I wanted to say something in return but he placed a finger on my lips and then left a lingering kiss on my forehead. 'I love you' he whispered and then stood and disappeared through the door without looking back at me.

'Come on' Amanda said, appearing at my elbow. 'We should get you off the floor and onto the bed.'

'All of the blood on the floor is making me nauseous' I told her. They had managed to stem the bleeding with the linens but the large pool of blood on the floor made me want to vomit.

'There is an adjoining room that Miss Lydia used last night. Just through there' Bingley pointed, attempting to be as helpful as possible.

'Thank you' replied Amanda. She helped me stand and aided me gingerly through the door as it shut behind us. We were suddenly greeted with the sounds of busy London traffic and people. We were home.

I would also recommend looking up the word anorchus on Google. I've watched Lost in Austen many times and never picked up on its use. It's hilarious! Great insult Mr Bennett!