Chapter 5
The Bingleys had gladly accepted an invitation to spend the Christmas season with their Darcy family in Pemberley. Having moved to the same county a month prior, they were beginning to settle into their new estate about half an hour of good road from the Darcys. It was a fine house, with more than enough rooms for the two of them, and a delightful parish with friendly neighbours. There was a bittersweet sadness to their departure for Pemberley that morning, as they felt keenly the loss of their quietude and privacy. They were not so long wed that they were past the stage where they felt the urgency of each other's company.
However, it was to the great benefit of their hosts that they managed to leave in a punctual manner on the cold winter's morning. Had they left any minutes later, they may have been too late.
They had been enjoying a straightforward carriage ride in spite of the layer of pristine snow which had been building throughout the day. In fact, it was the very same snow which had caused them to leave when they had. For Jane was set on attending her sister for the birth of her second child, and fretted that too much more snow would make even the short carriage ride to Pemberley impassable.
"The landscape blanketed in white is quite striking, don't you think, my love?" Bingley asked his beautiful bride with a gentle press to her hand.
"Indeed," she breathed, then chuckled softly. "Well, what little of it I can see, that is."
"I am rather glad that we are so cosily ensconced inside this carriage," he returned to her nod of assent. She moved closer to him to share his warmth, and they both smiled at the closeness.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jane spotted a dark shape against the white of the snow. It appeared to be moving. She tapped the roof of the carriage urgently, and the footmen pulled the horses to a halt. From the stillness of the carriage, she could make out the shape of a man slowly edging onwards through the thick snowfall. She made to open the door.
"You cannot mean to step out into the snow?" Her husband's voice was thick with concern.
"We cannot leave the poor man out in this weather," she pleaded.
"We do not know if he can be trusted. One hears talk of vicious highwaymen. Perhaps it is a ruse."
"My love, you must trust in the good of people. I will not let him freeze to death if it is within our power to prevent it."
He saw her goodness and her wisdom. He did not think that one could last very long in the cold. He worried for his footmen, even though they had thick outdoor clothes and blankets to keep them warm.
"Sir, can we help you?" he shouted through the window. The figure turned slowly towards the sound that flew urgently on the wind towards him.
Mr Darcy could not work out where the sound was coming from, but upon turning slowly, he saw a fine carriage waiting beside him. He sent a prayer skywards and shuddered towards his saviour.
"Please-" came the somewhat wobbly voice that returned Mr Bingley's question. "I am so cold."
Recognition flashed in Mr Bingley's eyes, and he sprung to action. "My darling, brilliant wife. Thank you for stopping the carriage."
He threw the door open without a thought for the cold, propelled by the urgency to draw his friend into the warmth. Mr Darcy gladly accepted his friend's warm hand and the help raising his weak form into the curricle. The second that he had gained the seat opposite his friend, Mr Bingley instructed the footmen to continue their journey to Pemberley - with all due haste.
"Darcy, what in the hell were you thinking, traipsing through the storm like this?"
"I… I… I…" his teeth chattered and he struggled to get his sluggish brain to engage with what his friend was saying. Finally free of the adrenaline of the situation, he felt a heavy darkness settle over him.
Jane's hand went straight to her breast to see her brother-in-law so feeble. She removed her coat and scarf immediately and covered his cold body with them.
"Perhaps we should sit next to him, Charles. That way we might give him some of our own body heat. I would not want for him to wake uncomfortable - either from the cold or our close proximity."
"I have read about the ghastly effects that can occur if one remains too cold for too long. I am sure Mr Darcy would prefer to have his toes than his temporary dignity," he replied, removing his coat in the same manner as his wife and desperately trying to breathe some warmth into his friend's frozen fingers.
They were only a five minute ride from Mr Darcy's home, and it was just as well for he awoke two minutes before they arrived at the threshold.
"Where-" he began to ask through chattering teeth.
"Do not stress yourself, Fitzwilliam," Mr Bingley replied. "You are safe now. We are nearly home."
Mr Darcy's heart swelled at the word home. Some colour returned to his cheeks at the thought of what -of who - awaited him there.
"Thank you," he said simply, tone full of tiredness and gratitude.
They had not pulled him out of the woods yet, but he was restored somewhat by the warm coats and the heat of their bodies.