Chapter 8: Of Doctor Visits and Nervous Wrecks

Mr. Darcy panted against Mr. and Mrs. Bennet's closed door. His legs were already sore from the trip the day before. Now, his legs were on fire, and his back was sore. Mr. Bennet was quite heavy, and carrying dead weight was always a struggle. The doctor was inside with Miss Elizabeth. Mrs. Bennet had to be helped to Jane's room when she saw her husband in that state. Georgiana came out of Jane's room a bit pale.

"How is she?"

"She is… very scared, I think," Georgiana replied. "Do you think Mr. Bennet will be alright?"

"I do not know, dearest. But we will do whatever is needed to help. Do not fret."

"Mrs. Bennet said that if he passes, they will be destitute…. Is that true?"

"Sweetling, please do not concern yourself with that."

"But, brother-"

"Mr. Darcy, a word?" the doctor came out.

"Of course," Mr. Darcy guided him to his room. It was closer than a study. "How bad is it?"

"Quite, sir. I have done what I can. I cleaned and stitched his cut. His head is very swollen. We will not know if his spine was compromised until he regains consciousness. It was a very good idea for you to stabilize the neck. I have changed it to a more appropriate setting with clean wooden spoons that Miss Elizabeth and Corinne helped me cut them so there are no splinters."

"Would ice help? Any wound salves? How often should we change the bandages?"

"Yes. Ice would help, and I have already asked the maid to send a footman for a salve. The bandages need to be changed at least three times a day. I wrote instructions for Miss Elizabeth."

"Of course. Thank you, doctor. Would you rather I pay you now or-?"

"Oh, no. Do not worry, sir. I anticipate I will have to come back several times."

"I appreciate all your help."

"I am glad to be of service. Before I go, I will stop by Miss Anton's room and check on her and the baby. If Mr. Bennet comes to, please send for me right away."

"Absolutely."

Mary sighed as she finished her prayers. Miss Darcy had joined her in praying. She did not roll her eyes or scoff at her. She simply sat beside her, lowered her head, and prayed with her. She even held her hand when she started crying.

"Thank you, Miss Darcy," Mary tried a feeble smile.

"You are not alone, Miss Mary. I know it may feel like it, but we are all here for you and your family," Georgiana squeezed her hand.

"Miss Darcy? I need to talk to you about lunch. Pray excuse us, Miss Mary," Mrs. Reynolds stepped in and motioned for Georgiana to follow her.

"Corinne?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you please go check if the ice has arrived?"

Corinne looked at Miss Elizabeth and then at Mr. Bennet. Mrs. Reynolds said they were not supposed to ever leave the master alone with any single lady, especially not Miss Elizabeth.

"Mr. Darcy!" Jane exclaimed behind him. She had almost crashed against his back, "I was just coming to bring Lizzie some tea."

"Miss Bennet, I could have done that for you," Corinne exclaimed, embarrassed.

"Oh, I know you could have. You are so diligent. But I was checking up on my aunt, and there was a tea service there already," Jane smiled serenely and approached her sister to hand her the cup and saucer.

"Excuse me," Corinne nodded and left to inquire about the ice.

"Miss Elizabeth, how are you holding up?" Mr. Darcy asked from the door.

She sniffled and took a small sip, "I am as well as I can be."

He noticed she was pale, and her dress had dried blood on it. "May I provide anything for your comfort? Are you cold? Perhaps you want to change?"

"Change?" she looked down at the stains. "Dear Lord, of course. Jane, please stay with Papa."

"Go, Lizzie. I will not move."

Lizzie rushed out and toward her room. Mr. Darcy wanted nothing more than to follow her.

"Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes, Miss Bennet?"

"Thank you so much for everything you are doing for us."

"There is no need to thank me. I am glad to help."

"We are ever so grateful. I apologize in my father's stead. He should not have gone traipsing riding an unfamiliar horse in unfamiliar terrain. Was your horse recovered?"

"They are looking for him now."

"I hope he's not hurt."

"So do I," he nodded and turned to leave.

"Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes?"

"Can you check on Lizzie for me?" Jane asked.

He blinked, "Beg your pardon?"

Jane smiled, "I think she needs a hug." She mouthed, "A hug from you."

Mr. Darcy blushed, "Miss Bennet… I…"

"I know, sir. Go to her."

"Thank you," he left so quickly that Jane thought he disappeared.

Lizzie was waiting for him in the parlor between their rooms. When he closed the door behind him, she jumped into his arms and cried with desperation.

"There was s-s-so much b-b-blood!"

Mr. Darcy caressed her hair and held her tightly, "I know, my love. I would have wanted to spare you and your sisters the shocking scene, but it was the fastest way to get him in bed."

"A-And you c-carried him a-all the way h-here… Lord… You m-must be so t-tired, William," she placed her hands on his chest.

"I will be fine, dearest. Do not worry."

"Jane kn-knows. I am sorry, but I had to t-tell her."

"I understand. She did not seem upset about it."

"She is not. Once I told her everything, she decided to be supportive. It is for the best, I think. She could help us if something happens."

"Of course. I understand. I should go…" he kissed her forehead. "I need to make sure the salve is brought soon and that they bring the ice upstairs in chunks, so it does not melt as quickly."

"You ordered ice?"

"Of course, the doctor said it would help," he smiled.

"I love you so much," she hugged him tightly. "Thank you."

He caressed her cheek, "There is no need to thank me. I want to make sure your father gets the best care."

Mrs. Bennet finally came out of her room at sundown. She tried to remember where the stairs were and could not find them. She stopped by her husband's room, and Mary told her he was still the same. Mrs. Bennet did not even look at her husband. She could not. The idea of him dying would send her back to a bad nervous state. It was terrible and embarrassing enough that her husband had done something so reckless. They would be in a lot of debt by the time Mr. Bennet recovered… if he recovered. But if he did not… She leaned against a wall and stared down at the beautiful gardens. There was a rose garden. The smell of roses calmed her down. She asked a footman how to get there, and her feet moved quickly in that direction.

The roses were beautiful and blooming. She found a stone bench among the bushes and was about to sit regardless of the fact that it was wet and cold. Before she did, Mr. Darcy appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

"Mrs. Bennet?"

"Oh Lord! Did he get worse?"

"No, no. He's unchanged."

She sighed. She looked at the bench, "Do you mind, sir?"

"Not at all. But allow me. I would not want you to ruin your dress," Mr. Darcy said, taking off his coat and placing it on the bench for her to sit on.

Mrs. Bennet blushed. "Thank you. Very gallant of you."

Mr. Darcy sat next to her. His riding pants were used to rough conditions. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"Oh? Is this about the expenses? I heard about the ice…"

"What? No… Mrs. Bennet, do not worry about money… The doctor does not know when Mr. Bennet will regain consciousness. The ice is meant to help with the swelling, and the bandages should be changed thrice daily, and a salve should be applied every time the bandages are changed… But that is beside the point."

"Is it?"

"Yes. I actually wanted to talk to you… How are you feeling?"

"Sir?"

"Mrs. Bennet, I know a little about having ailing family members and not knowing what to expect."

"You do?"

"I apologize in advance if I lose my train of thought. This topic is d-difficult for me… My mother passed a few days a-after she delivered my sister…"

"Dear Lord…"

"She lost a lot of blood in the delivery, and regardless of how hard the doctor and the midwife tried… She passed away."

"I am very sorry for your loss, sir. How old were you when this happened?"

"I was twelve years old."

Mrs. Bennet gasped, "You were so young."

"My father p-passed when I was eighteen, but he got ill w-when I was fifteen. I t-took over managing the estate with the help of our steward a-and our incredible staff… That is why I appreciate them s-so much—especially Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds. They have b-been like a part of my family all these years. My sister was too young when he p-p-p assed, barely six. She has v-very few memories because Father's illness had him in b-bed, and he did not want her to see him like that…" he blushed. His stammering was something he had always been self-conscious about.

Mrs. Bennet's eyes were full of tears, "I am so sorry you were forced to grow up so quickly, Mr. Darcy."

Her reaction touched him, "Thank you. I am just telling you this b-because I want you to know I understand you're a-anguish and how helpless you must feel. I heard you n-needed to lie down after you saw your husband's state."

"I apologize for my outburst… I… I am scared about what the future will hold," she sighed.

"I understand your concern about the estate's finances and your family's future."

"Who told you-?"

"Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bennet mentioned something about an e-entailment when we talked in your house."

"He did?"

"Yes."

"I am afraid that if he… Oh, Lord… If he passes, I-" Mrs. Bennet covered her face with her hands as sobs wrecked her body.

Mr. Darcy took out his handkerchief and handed it to her. "Mrs. Bennet, I want to help ease your fears. While you are here, I do not want any of you to be worried about that. You will never end destitute… because I will not allow it."

Mrs. Bennet looked into his eyes, "Sir?"

"I was g-granted permission by Mr. Gardiner and some sort of c-conditional approval by Mr. Bennet… to court Miss Elizabeth."

Mrs. Bennet gasped. "But… But… I thought you did not like my Lizzie. I know you deeply dislike me and my younger daughters…"

"What?! No… No. I… May I be frank?"

"You need to be, sir. None of this makes any sense to me… But I am not the smartest, so-"

"Mrs. Bennet, I need to know you will not share what I am about to tell you. It involves an innocent that would be irreparably hurt."

"I will not say a word."

"Do you remember Mr. Wickham?"

Mr. Bennet was trapped. He tried to open his eyes, but he could not. His head was throbbing. He could feel cold water on the back of his head. His body felt numb. He could hear dainty steps around him. It sounded like more than one person. Where was he? What had happened?

"Oh, Jane. He looks more pale to me."

"Lizzie, he looks the same. He hasn't bled anymore. The ice is helping."

"Your Mr. Darcy is really generous to send for ice."

"He is very thoughtful and kind."

"He loves you. It is very clear in the way he looks at you. His eyes get brighter when you are mentioned."

"I am so glad we forgave each other."

Mr. Bennet felt confused. Who was Jane? Who was this Mr. Darcy person? Worst of all… Why was he in bed and unable to move? He thought hard. He could not remember. He tried to wiggle his fingers. He couldn't. Panic started to set in.

"Poor Miss Darcy! What an awful thing to go through," Mrs. Bennet blew her nose with the handkerchief.

"And so when I said those unkind words to Miss Elizabeth, I did not even look at her. I just wanted Charles, Mr. Bingley, sorry, to stop pestering me to be social when all I wanted to do was crawl in a hole and stay in there, feeling what an absolute disappointment I was, and-" He winced when Mrs. Benner's hand slapped his knee.

"You will not speak of yourself that way, young man!" she frowned severely at him.

He was so shocked that he could not say anything for a few seconds. He finally croaked, "Ma'am?"

"You were put into a parent role when you did not even get to be parented all the way into adulthood. You had to learn how to be a parent on your own. I have seen Miss Darcy. She is all that is genteel and proper. You did an excellent job."

"Th-Thank you. She is a wonderful g-girl. I am very proud of her."

"You should be," she smiled conspiratorially. "So, you want to marry Lizzie, huh?"

He blushed and nodded. "Miss Elizabeth is incredible. I am truly humbled and grateful that she would even consider me."

"I am glad to hear it… Pardon the intrusion, but… if you do not mind. Why Lizzie, and why now?"

"What are the five postulates of Euclidean geometry?" Georgiana's tutor asked as he paced.

Georgiana looked pensive, "A straight line can be drawn from any point to any point."

"True. Next?"

"A finite straight line can be produced continuously… in a straight line."

"Yes. What else?"

"A circle may be described with any point as a center… and any distance as a radius," Georgiana said this with a doubtful tone.

"Yes, and what about angles, Miss Darcy?"

"Oh… I… Wait. I should know this…" Georgiana's face scrunched up in concentration.

"Miss Mary, do you know this?"

Mary's eyes widened because she was included once more without her asking, "Is it that all right angles are equal to one another?"

"Correct. Do you know the last one?"

"If a transversal falls on two lines so that the interior angles on one side of the transversal are less than two right angles, then… uh… Then, the lines meet on the side in which the angles are less than two right angles."

"Yes, correct."

Madeline was very concerned about Thomas. He was still unconscious. Being thrown off a horse was so dangerous. He was not that young, either. Madeline was actually shocked that he had not broken a bone. What was he thinking galloping with a horse he did not know on a property he did not know either? Why did he have to be so stubborn? That was the problem of intelligent, arrogant men. When you think you know better despite evidence to the contrary, and you refuse to hear those more knowledgeable,

"Jane, should you not go check on your father? I am perfectly fine, dear."

"Lizzie is with him. Are you not tired from being in that position, Aunt Maddy?"

"A little, dear. But I will not complain lest Mr. Darcy sends the cavalry."

Jane blinked, "The cavalry?"

"Oh, yes… He sends in his sister, who has these magical eyes that will make you agree to things you were not going to agree to… Do not fall for it. Avoid staring into her eyes."

Jane laughed, "Aunt Maddy… That is oddly specific. She looks like an angel. Are you sure she knows she is doing that?"

"Oh, she knows! You do not have to believe me. Just pay attention. Any time I mention anything and staff or Miss Darcy hear me, it is as if it appears out of thin air. Tea, a cold towel, fruit, a book, anything at all… I feel like such a terrible imposition."

"Oh, Aunt Maddy… You say that like it is a bad thing."

"No. I am truly grateful. Lord knows I am far more comfortable here than I would have been at home. There, I would have been alone for hours while he was doing business. Here, I feel like I am a member of the royal family or something."

Jane laughed demurely, "Oh, Aunt Maddy, they are being so good to us."

"And things are about to get better… for you."

"For me? What do you-?"

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door, "Miss Bennet?"

"Come in, Mr. Darcy," she replied.

"Mrs. Gardiner, how are you feeling?"

"Good, sir. It is a good day. I have had a lot of company and entertainment."

"I am glad to hear it. I was hoping I could talk to Miss Bennet."

"Mr. Darcy? Ms. Annesley said you were looking for me," Mary approached him.

"Yes, can you please stay with your aunt? I want to speak to Miss Bennet and show her the rose garden. Her mother is waiting for us there."

"Of course, sir," Mary went in, and Jane stood up.

"I am at your service," Jane smiled.

He offered her his arm.

"And I understand if you are upset with me and wish not to talk to me. However, I needed to apologize and let you know that Charles is coming in a few days. If you would rather not see him, I can send an express message to tell him not to come," Mr. Darcy said all this softly. His eyes were firm on the ground, and he looked truly sorry.

Mrs. Bennet was picking up some roses nearby to bring up to Madeline. She could not hear them, but she could see them well.

"Mr. Darcy, I am not upset with you, at least not as much as you think… You should not have meddled; that is true. But Mr. Bingley is his own man, sir. He chose to listen to you. He did not have to listen. He could have talked to me. He did not… I never thought him cruel enough to leave me without a word, but he did."

"Miss Bennet, he cares for you deeply. He has never been so angry at me or at anyone else. I am sure his purpose in coming here was so I would join him when he went to apologize to you."

Jane sighed, "Oh, Mr. Darcy… You are a good friend, but I am not a child. I do not need polite reassurances. I, too, am the oldest sibling. I understand that it is part of our job to protect those we feel need our protection... I also know Mr. Bingley is like a brother to you, but do not try to give him a character he does not possess, sir. I beg you. That he had Miss Bingley send me a letter instead of coming to say goodbye himself told me he never cared as much as I thought he did."

"Miss Bennet…"

"Mr. Darcy, my mother has always told me how beautiful I am... To no fault of her own, she always thought that was my most important quality. Who can blame her? With an entailed estate, I had to make a good match, and my dowry is not large enough to be the only inducement to marrying me."

Mr. Darcy blinked but stayed quiet.

Jane went on, "Do you know how many times a gentleman has toyed with my affection?"

He shook his head.

"Ever since I turned fifteen, several men have spoken pretty words… and made promises they cannot keep. They have all called me beautiful. They have only ever called me beautiful. You see, I am not as smart and witty as Lizzie. I am not as pious and dedicated as Mary. I am not as… fun and enthusiastic as my youngest sisters… When I met Mr. Bingley, he did call me beautiful, but I thought he saw more than that. I thought he saw my homemaking skills. I thought he saw I am a good horsewoman. I thought he saw I can paint well, trim bonnets, mend clothes, and do everything a young woman should do. I stupidly thought that he saw me… the real me. I let my guard down. I do not do that. Not anymore."

"Why?" he asked, fearing her answer.

She exhaled slowly, "I do not know if you remember. My mother mentioned a gentleman who wrote me poetry at the Assembly."

"I remember."

"Lizzie was really kind to veer the conversation away from me, then. But I will tell you why I was so mortified. That gentleman was… Mr. Lucas."

He frowned slightly, "Mrs. Collins' brother?"

Her face was strained, trying to maintain inexpressiveness, "Indeed... He courted me that whole year. He wrote me poems," she scoffed. "Poems about my beauty, about how he was madly in love with me, about how he wanted to marry me, about how he wanted to have children… with my eyes," she took a deep breath and sighed to control her emotions, but her eyes filled with tears. "He said as soon as he finished his studies, he would come back… for me."

Mr. Darcy's hands turned into fists, "He did not?"

"Oh, no. He returned… One day, without notice… I saw the Lucas' carriage, and I… I was so happy that he was back. I remember dragging Lizzie with me to go greet him so he could come talk to my father."

Mr. Darcy frowned, "And he refused to keep his promise?"

Jane chuckled bitterly and pressed the heels of her gloved hands over her eyes as tears began to fall. She did not want him to see her cry. "He was coming back home… to introduce his new wife."

Mr. Darcy's jaw fell. He did not know what to say. What a blackguard! What a cad!

"And," she sniffed. "That is why I never openly encourage men… That is why I try to appear very calm, quiet, and collected… I keep my feelings close to my chest because I am tired of men thinking it is funny to play with my affections and make a fool of me. Maybe they think I will bounce back because I am pretty enough to find someone else. But my heart… My heart is another story."

Mr. Darcy wanted to repeatedly hit something—preferably Mr. Lucas' head with a mallet. "I had no idea, Miss Bennet. I am so sorry."

"I was made a fool of more than once, but Mr. Lucas' betrayal was the worst. We grew up together and he always told everyone who would listen that he would marry me. Thus, my humiliation was public and complete."

Mr. Darcy pulled his hair back, "Did your father know?"

"He did… He just thought it was amusing. Love problems between young people who did not know any better than to promise things out of their control… Except, I controlled myself. He did not," she sighed. "After that… I just stopped caring. I would not go to balls… If I did, I would not dance. I stayed away from all men. I suppose this made young men want to have a chance to… get me…" her tone was bitter and angry. "They see me as little more than an ornament, a medal… a trophy. Since I am an object, my feelings do not matter."

Mr. Darcy held onto the bench. He did not want to have an outburst, but this reminded him of Georgiana way too much.

Jane inhaled, shakily, "I told my mother I did not feel like I could vet men anymore. I chose to let my parents choose for me… I suppose. But my father… I know he loves us all, especially Lizzie. But he never made any effort to secure a match for me… My mother has done her best, but her nerves betray her, and… my father will not listen to her anyway."

Mr. Darcy sighed, "May I say something that may not help at all?"

"Of course, sir," Jane looked confused at his odd phrasing.

"I think you have a lot more to recommend you than just your beauty. If I had a brother, I would be all over him, encouraging him to court you. I am so sorry you have suffered such treatment. You do not deserve it. I now understand why Miss Elizabeth was so incensed at my intervention."

"Thank you, sir. That is high praise… Lizzie loves me, and she wants what is best for me. Just like Miss Darcy does for you… She thought he was what was best for me. I did so, too, for a while… I… I really thought I knew Mr. Bingley, and I was starting to hope his feelings for me were real. It is an unfortunate thing to have hope die. And mine did… again. I no longer see him as the best, but he is your friend, and I have no objections whatsoever to Mr. Bingley coming to your home. I appreciate you asking my opinion, though. I cannot promise to be friendly, but I can promise to be civil. You need not worry."

Mr. Darcy's heart felt heavy. He took Miss Bennet's hand and placed another handkerchief on her free hand, "I am sorry for making you cry. I appreciate you being so forthcoming. You did not need to tell me all this..."

"I did, sir. You are a good man, Mr. Darcy. I want you to get to know the real me. After all, you are -hopefully- going to be my brother. Right?"

He smiled, "Nothing would please me more… I know you have your hands full with Mrs. Gardiner and your father, but if you wish to go riding around the property or if you wish to paint or embroider anything, you need only ask. I would love to see you doing things that make you happy, Miss Bennet."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I may take you up on that offer."

"Please do," he squeezed her hand. "I should go talk to my steward. Mrs. Bennet, are you ready to go back inside? We should find you a nice vase for those," he smiled.

"Oh, yes, please," Mrs. Bennet approached them.

"You are very nice to her."

He was silent for a few seconds, then smiled, "She deserves it."

Jane smiled back. She could see why Lizzie was so in love with this softer, more open Mr. Darcy. Surprisingly, she did not feel embarrassed to have told him so much. Mr. Darcy was the one man not related to her that she had ever been this honest and raw to… and he was not shocked or disappointed. He looked to be in pain for her. He looked affected by what she told him. His apology was genuine, and he was trying his best to make amends. Something about him, perhaps how attentively he listened or how he did not judge her for a second, made her feel safe and supported. Upon closer inspection, Mr. Darcy had an upstanding character that should be the standard. Mr. Bingley paled in comparison.