Elizabeth nodded in agreement and they headed off in the direction of Mr. Witting's room. Once they arrived, they saw that Mr. Reed was already attending to him. They waited patiently outside the door for several minutes, listening to the sound of Mr. Reed changing the bandages. The minutes passed slowly, and finally they heard him calling them in.
When they stepped into the room, they saw Mr. Witting lying on the bed, looking pale and weak. They greeted Mr. Witting and expressed their best wishes for his recovery before coming to the real purpose of the visit.
"Witting," said Mr. Darcy softly. "I need to ask you to try to remember last night, before you had the fit. Do you remember anything?"
Mr. Witting's eyes flickered open, and he struggled to speak. "I... I don't remember much. I was asleep, and then I woke up to someone touching my wound. I thought it was the maid, changing the bandage, then I had the fit. I have tried to remember more, but I cannot." Mr. Witting seemed distressed by his lack of memory of the event.
"That's enough for now, Mr. Witting. You need to rest." The doctor turned to Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. "I shall call for Sarah to sit with him, if that is agreeable, then we can speak." Elizabeth nodded, already having a fondness for the kindly doctor.
After leaving Sarah with Mr. Witting, Mr. Reed informed them that Mr. Witting's infection was quite serious and that he would need constant care to prevent it from spreading. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy shared what they had learned about Mr. Frodsham and the Luddites.
Mr. Reed's face grew serious as he listened to their story. "That makes a great deal of sense. This all suggests that the infection was indeed introduced into Mr. Witting's wound, which explains why it does not follow the regular pattern of a wound's infection. I think it is clear that either the person who introduced the infection, or someone directing him, has some knowledge of medicine and infection. If the organisation is as big as you say, they would have many resources at their disposal."
A knock sounded at the door, interrupting their conversation. Mr. Darcy bade the person to enter, and Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped in. He looked grave and preoccupied, and Mr. Darcy could tell that something was amiss. When he asked what had happened, Colonel Fitzwilliam hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I've just received a message from the home office," he said urgently. "There's been rioting reported in London. I am off at once. I do not know when I shall return."
"Where in London?" asked Darcy.
"I shall not tell you," said Colonel Fitzwilliam with a grin, "for else I shall fear that you or various Bennets will follow me. But suffice it to say that it is in a troubled area, and the Luddite movement may be involved."
Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged worried glances.
"Oh, do not look like that. I must go. I shall send word when I can," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, slapping his cousin on the shoulder and bowing to Elizabeth before departing. He tried his best to smile, but the sadness in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.
Elizabeth and Darcy watched him go, feeling the weight of his departure.
"Mr. Reed," said Darcy, "Is it at all possible to move Mr. Witting? I fear he is not safe here."
Mr. Reed looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "It is possible, but it will not be easy. Mr. Witting needs to be kept as still as possible to prevent further infection. However, I do agree that he is not safe here. We could arrange for a carriage to take him elsewhere, but I cannot imagine where you could take him, where he would be more secure."
"That I can take care of," said Mr. Darcy.
"Very well. Let me know when I am needed, and I can help to supervise the transportation," said Mr. Reed. "I must check on my other patient, if you do not mind, although I think Lord Barlow is much more at risk of dullness than infection." With that, he left the room, leaving the door partly open for propriety.
Elizabeth nodded, understanding the need for Mr. Witting to attend to his other patient. She turned back to Mr. Darcy, who had lines of deep concern etched into his forehead.
"I know where we might bring them," said she.
"We cannot bring them to Longbourn," he replied. "It would be just as dangerous as Netherfield. We must get them away from Meryton."
"I agree. I was not thinking of Longbourn. However, we also must consider that they cannot travel a great distance, so we cannot whisk them off to Derbyshire." Elizabeth paused for a moment before continuing, "I was thinking of Gracechurch Street. My aunt and uncle have a spacious house there. I am certain that they would offer aid to the men, given the circumstances. No one would suspect that they are there, and we could ensure their safety."
"But the riots in London are ongoing," he protested. "It is not safe to bring them there."
Elizabeth responded firmly and with a sense of urgency, "I understand the risks, Mr. Darcy, but we cannot leave Mr. Witting and Mr. Ravencroft in danger any longer. We must act quickly and decisively. I am confident that we can make the necessary arrangements to move them to Gracechurch Street without drawing attention to ourselves. My family often travels to London or the Gardiners travel here for the holidays. It would not be at all suspicious for us to go thither in December. All we need to do is make sure that we are not followed and that no one has any suspicions that we have extra people with us."
Mr. Darcy considered this silent, but decided that he must trust Elizabeth's judgement. "Very well. Let us contact your family first, so we can plan."
Elizabeth nodded, relieved that Mr. Darcy had agreed. They both knew that time was of the essence, and they needed to act quickly to ensure the safety of Mr. Witting and Mr. Ravencroft. Elizabeth's heart pounded with anticipation as she watched Mr. Darcy's quill scratch out a note to her father. Elizabeth assigned Sarah the important task of delivering the note.
Within an hour, the Longbourn carriage arrived at Netherfield, stirring up a flurry of excitement and apprehension. Mrs. Bennet was the first to alight from the carriage and rushed to her youngest daughters, her face filled with a mixture of relief and anger. Lydia and Kitty were relieved to see their mother, but were taken aback Mrs. Bennet scolded them for the decisions they had made. "Oh, my dears, it was so foolish of you!" she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Do you not know how worried we were? Anything could have happened to you!"
Mr. Bingley urged everyone inside, his face full of concern as he glanced up at the sky. The clouds were growing darker, and it looked like it might begin to rain soon. Mrs. Bennet continued to speak as they entered Netherfield, her voice rising in volume as she praised Mr. Bingley for offering her daughters succour. Mr. Bingley directed them towards the parlour, offering hot beverages and refreshments to appease their sudden chill.
With a gracious smile, Mrs. Bennet accepted the refreshments as her heart swelled with gratitude towards the gentlemen who had gallantly rescued her foolish daughters. Her eyes sparkled with admiration, and she praised them profusely for their heroic deeds. "Words cannot express my gratitude," she exclaimed, her voice filled with emotion. "You have my eternal gratitude for coming to the aid of my daughters when they needed it the most."
Mr. Darcy listened quietly, noticing the genuine love and concern in Mrs. Bennet's voice. He was struck by the thought that, despite her flaws, she was a mother who loved her children deeply and would do anything to protect them. As Mrs. Bennet continued to express her gratitude, Elizabeth's face began to grow red with embarrassment.
Mr. Bingley's words only added fuel to the fire, sending Mrs. Bennet into a frenzy of worry and anxiety when he told her of Lord Barlow's injury, which had been sustained while he was protecting Lydia and Kitty from a group of ruffians who had surrounded them in the street. "What would have become of you if he had not been there?" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. "We would have been ruined! No man would ever have married you and we would have been left with nothing when your father dies."
Lydia, the favourite of her mother, was not accustomed to being scolded and was already stressed from the shock of the previous day. Mr. Bennet said nothing, watching in amusement as his wife chastised their youngest daughters.
Mr. Darcy's patience wore thin as he listened to Mrs. Bennet's incessant rant. Though he knew it was impolite, he had to interrupt her. "Madam," he said firmly, "there is a matter of utmost urgency that we need to discuss. Your daughters' safety is not the only concern here. There are two men in this house whose lives are in peril, and we must act quickly to save them. We require your assistance in securing lodging for them with your brother, Mr. Gardiner. Can we count on your help?" The gravity of the situation was palpable, and Mr. Darcy could only hope that Elizabeth's parents would understand the urgency of the situation.
Mrs. Bennet's face paled as she listened to Mr. Darcy's words. "Of course, Mr. Darcy," she said, her voice trembling. "We will do whatever is necessary to help."
Mr. Bennet, who had been silent up until now, spoke up. "I will send an express letter ahead to Gardiner. It will make more sense for Jane and Elizabeth to go ahead of us, as they have the excuse of shopping for Jane's wedding clothes. It would look rather peculiar if our entire family decamped to London on a moment's notice."
Mrs. Bennet was in a flurry of protest as she refused to let Mrs. Gardiner help Jane with her wedding attire. "No, no, no," she exclaimed. "She doesn't have the knowledge of the finest warehouses as I do. I must go with you. I'm the only one who can be certain Jane will have the very best!"
Mr. Bennet had to reject his wife's idea, even though he could see how much it meant to her. "My dear, you shall accompany me when we depart in a week," he said, firmly but kindly. "If you wish, you may pen a list of the warehouses you wish them to visit, but you must be quick about it, so you do not delay their departure."
Mrs. Bennet, slightly mollified, began to create a list in her head throughout the rest of the call and the short journey back to Longbourn.
The youngest two Bennets were a little cross that they might not accompany their elder sisters, but Elizabeth told them that it would be too dangerous for them to come along and that they must have someone in Meryton to send them reports of what was happening. If they all went together, they should have to rely on Mr. Bingley and Mr. Bennet for information, neither of whom could be relied upon to write well or often.
"But what if the letters are intercepted, Lizzy?" asked Lydia.
Elizabeth could not imagine this happening, but listened to her sister's plan to overcome such a problem if it were to occur. Lydia laid out the details, explaining that the code was difficult to break without knowledge of the keyword, and that it was an ancient method of keeping secrets safe.
"And what shall the keyword be?" asked Elizabeth, trying to keep her face straight. "And shall we use it in the entire letter or just the portions we wish to keep secret?"
"You do not need to encode what colour dress you have bought," said Lydia with a roll of her eyes. "Only the portions that you wish to keep secret."
Lydia thought for a moment, trying to think of a word that would be easy to remember. "Edward!" she finally decided. "It should be easy to remember Uncle Gardiner's first name."
Elizabeth agreed, hoping that writing letters in code would keep her sisters out of trouble for the next se'nnight.
"Lizzy," said Jane, sticking her head into the room. "Are you packed? We must go soon. The carriage is out front."
"Yes," Elizabeth said, looking around the room at all the items she had yet to pack. She sighed heavily and grabbed a few items before shoving them into her bag.
As they made their way to the carriage, Elizabeth couldn't help but worry about the safety of her family and friends. As they arrived at Netherfield, Elizabeth's attention was immediately drawn to the carriage at the side door. Mr. Witting was inside with Mr. Ravencroft and Mr. Reed, although their presence was not to be known by most. To the casual observer, it would have appeared that Mr. Bingley was simply loaning a carriage to the Bennet family.
The journey ahead promised to be cramped and uncomfortable. Mr. Witting had to lie down and occupy an entire seat, leaving little space for the rest of the passengers. They monitored Mr. Witting's condition throughout the journey, ensuring that he was as comfortable as possible. The driver took great care to avoid any bumps on the road, and they travelled at a slow and steady pace. Mrs. Gardiner and her husband were waiting anxiously for them at the door, ready to help them get Mr. Witting inside. They had prepared a room for him, right next to the doctor's.
They all breathed a sigh of relief when they finally had Mr. Witting settled in bed, and the doctor confirmed that his injuries were not materially worsened with travel. The Gardiners' hospitality was greatly appreciated by all, and they were grateful for their assistance in keeping Mr. Witting safe. They knew they could not keep him in London forever, as the danger was still present, but for now, they were content knowing that they had successfully moved Mr. Witting out of harm's way. With the help of the Gardiners, they could plan their next move and ensure that Mr. Witting received the medical attention he needed to recover fully. Despite the uncertain future, they all felt a sense of relief and gratitude for the safety and comfort they had found.