Page 45 of He Taught Me to Hope (Darcy and the Young Knight’s Quest #1)

E lizabeth cuddled close to Ben to read his bedtime story.

Darcy’s continued absence was conspicuous.

The more that time passed, the more difficult it became to explain away his lack of attendance.

After what seemed in Ben’s young mind to be a mighty long time since he had last seen his friend, Ben began to fear something was amiss.

The last time he had glimpsed him, he had been in the hallway when the unpleasant lady arrived.

Ben had not missed noticing that the newcomer amongst them was a presence unwelcome by all, most notably by Mr. Darcy, judging by the sternness of his countenance, as well as the hushed whispers after Miss Georgiana and his mama had scurried him off to his room.

“Mama, where is Mr. Darcy? Let us wait until Mr. Darcy joins us this evening. I like it when both of you read to me,” Ben expressed.

Visions of the terrifying scene that had taken place just down the hallway, days earlier, flooded her mind.

She had seen it all, heard it all, and watched in fear as Anne fell down the stairs.

She observed Darcy’s frantic race down the steps after his cousin.

She stood frozen at the top of the stairway and watched as Darcy lifted his cousin’s limp body in his arms and called out in alarm to summon a doctor .

Elizabeth had done all she could to protect Ben and to reassure him nothing was wrong. However, he was far too astute not to discern their idyllic life at Pemberley had taken an unexpected turn. Even more, he was too curious not to start asking questions.

Elizabeth set Ben’s favourite storybook aside and embraced her son. She kissed him lightly on his forehead. “Mr. Darcy is tending to a relative who is gravely ill,” she said, hoping her explanation would be enough to pacify her child.

“Is it the lady I saw in the hallway when we came back from our family outing? I have not seen her since.”

“Yes, Ben, she is Mr. Darcy’s cousin. She suffered a serious mishap.”

“Is Mr. Darcy terribly upset? Is that the reason he does not spend time with me any longer?”

“Mr. Darcy does not mean to neglect you, Ben. I am sure he misses you as much as you miss him. He believes his cousin has a greater need of him during this time.” Elizabeth did her best to make the situation clear, for even she was beginning to be concerned about Darcy’s attentiveness towards Anne.

Georgiana explained to her what Darcy had failed to mention; how he had maintained a vigil over Anne the last time she had fallen victim to a strange deathbed malady, and how he had uttered those poorly chosen words which led Anne to believe she held some claim over him—that he would do anything to see her recover, that he might even go as far as to marry her.

The anguish Elizabeth suffered in merely recollecting Georgiana’s words must have been etched on her face. Ben placed his tiny hand lovingly on his mother’s chin and peered into her eyes. “Will Mr. Darcy’s cousin die?”

Ben’s question, innocent though it was, brought to Elizabeth’s mind a paradoxical scenario she had never even considered. What if Anne recovered? What if Anne recovered, but not fully? What if Anne never recovered? What would become of our lives?

Elizabeth answered her son, solemnly. “I pray she gets well, my child.” She kissed him atop his head, softly. “We all do.”

It seemed all Darcy wanted to do when he did not choose to be alone to berate himself for Anne’s accident, was to remain by his cousin’s side, to pull her back from the brink as he had done before, thinking his presence as truly what was needed to accomplish such an end.

He had been assured by the physician the scrapes and sprains she suffered would indeed heal, and the bruises would disappear.

What the doctor could not account for was her deep state of unconsciousness.

Whether she would ever open her eyes again, he could not say with conviction.

Only time would tell. Such was the matter weighing heaviest on Darcy’s mind.

Anne was suffering as a result of his actions, his words. He might as well have pushed her, he managed to persuade himself. He could not have suffered more guilt.

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, who had come to Pemberley expecting to stand as groomsman for his cousin, arrived at what might easily have been described as a house of mourning. A brief conversation with Georgiana spurred him into action.

Darcy was surprised to see Richard after he entered the master’s suite.

Apparently, Richard had been waiting there for some time.

Darcy had hoped for a chance to refresh himself and perhaps have a nap before returning to his post by Anne’s bedside.

He did not expect, nor did he care for, another lecture from well-intentioned relatives.

Richard wasted no time in his chastisement of the younger man’s behaviour.

He pointed out Darcy’s inattention to his own health and his neglect of the people who meant most to him.

The two men wrangled back and forth. Darcy thought surely everyone must understand.

Richard expressed doubts. Even knowing Anne as he did, he could not say for certain whether Darcy’s vigil made a difference.

Nonetheless, he spoke with certitude of the undesirable consequences of Anne’s latest crisis on Georgiana and young Ben.

Georgiana, for one, was sceptical and afraid it was another of Anne’s ploys—one she would play out until Darcy capitulated.

Young Ben was lonely and confused. He missed his friend, and Richard could do little to make up for Darcy’s absence.

Talk soon turned to the wedding. Richard asked, “Have your intentions changed?”

“How can I possibly wed Elizabeth whilst Anne is wasting away up the corridor, clinging to life?”

“What are you saying, Darcy?” Richard asked. “Do you mean to say after all the two of you have overcome to reach this point, you do not intend to marry Elizabeth?”

“No, that is not what I am saying. This is not the time to be planning a marriage, especially in light of the circumstances. It is my fault Anne lies in bed, fighting for her life!”

“How on this earth do you suppose any of this is your fault?”

“I drove her to this! I mocked her! Do you fail to recall my parting words to her in Kent? How I would sooner see her dead than to marry her. And now …” Darcy threw himself in his chair, slumped forward in resignation, and buried his face in his hands.

“Darcy, you are taking too much blame upon yourself. How could you have known she would go to such lengths?”

Darcy stared at his cousin in dismay. “How might I expect you to understand my torment? You have never looked upon our cousin sympathetically.”

“On the contrary, I have long seen her for the person she is. You have always looked naively at her manipulative antics.”

“Well, here we are!”

“Indeed, you have allowed yourself to be drawn in by Anne’s problems once more.

What if, Heaven forbid, she should not recover from the fall?

What if it is no pretence? What if she dies?

Do you then intend to ask Elizabeth to wait until you have observed a proper period of grief for our cousin?

Think about what you are doing, man! Is that how you intend to start your newly-wedded life, on the heels of mourning? ”

“What is the alternative, oh wise one? ”

“Proceed with your plans. Marry Elizabeth now! Delay your wedding journey for a week at the most, but for heaven’s sake do not put your life on hold waiting for Anne to decide to recover.”

“I do not believe Anne is pretending. I was there! I will not abandon Anne when she needs me most. Nor will I marry Elizabeth when I am consumed with worry over Anne’s well-being. Elizabeth deserves more than that. She deserves better than I am able to offer just now.”

Darcy was on his way to look in on Anne, when he came across Elizabeth, who placed herself directly in his path.

“Hello, stranger,” Elizabeth’s visage offered far more than her words conveyed.

“Elizabeth, I know we have much to discuss,” he offered apologetically.

“Indeed, we do. Thus, I am standing here in the hallway. I mean to spend the rest of the day with you, Mr. Darcy.”

“Elizabeth,” he began, “not today. Anne—” Darcy started to say before Elizabeth intervened.

“You have hired an army of nurses to care for Anne. Meanwhile, no one is looking after you; least not yourself. I mean to do just that, starting now,” Elizabeth insisted.

Darcy opened his mouth to form an objection, but Elizabeth placed a silencing finger on his lips. “I refuse to accept no as an answer. Come with me.”

A quarter of an hour later, Darcy and Elizabeth strolled together along a winding path bordering a quietly flowing stream.

Occasionally, Elizabeth cast a glance towards him and wondered what had become of her passionate lover.

His hands were tightly clasped behind his back.

His countenance was crumpled. His mind seemed miles and miles away.

He barely noticed when she laced her hands through his arm and rested her head thereupon as they walked .

It was destined to be a far greater challenge than she had envisioned. Elizabeth broke the inexcusable silence. “Mr. Darcy, I do not mean to make light of the pain you surely must be suffering; however, I was there, you know. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

Darcy wondered to himself, Why must others insist on telling me how I should feel during this time? I know their intentions are good. No one understands. It was his burden and his burden alone. He did not mean to share it with anyone, not even Elizabeth; especially not Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth, I do not wish to speak of any of this.”