Page 150 of Obligation and Redemption

At the same time, even in the limited light, he was able to notice her wrists that held the remnants of bruising brought on by Langston’s violent grip, in addition to the many other blemishes from her fall.

This reminder of his own cousin’s treachery increased his fury at Langston’s gall and sympathy for his wife’s undeserved suffering.

The irony of all that he had once previously held dear, versus his current understanding, struck him like a lightning bolt from the storm outside.

He had always valued those of consequence more highly than the lower classes, even the gentry.

Add to that, his familial connections, his name and heritage drove his obligations and sense of duty.

How wrong he had been to place significance on the very virtues that now threatened his wife’s life and honour.

In this one moment he discerned how hypocritical his existence had been.

He thought that he had put his faith in all that was right and excellent, but now saw the deception.

Could money and name actually make one superior over another?

Could there be any inherent worth presented to a human being who had the advantage of birth into one family versus another?

Was his cousin more valued in the eyes of God than his precious Elizabeth, owing to his title and wealth alone?

It could not be so. He had been deluded his whole life and now saw his error .

Although he knew Elizabeth would in no way want him to remove her chemise, he truly had no other choice.

The wet garment had to come off in order for her to have any hope of finding warmth.

But mindful of her modesty, he reached over to the woollen blankets in which he had previously wrapped her, and as he lifted the shift, he covered her with the blanket, easily overcoming his own longing to see her bare.

It would not be today; he now understood that loving her made him less likely to take advantage of her vulnerabilities, not more so.

His only desire was to care for her. Yet again, he comprehended his previous inadequacies as a husband and protector.

He remembered that her stockings would also likely be wet, so he lifted the blanket to remove her shoes first. Darcy noticed that her ankle was blue and swollen, which would explain in part why she had lain where she was.

She had apparently fallen down the ravine and could not then get to safety.

She must have lain in that same location for two days without aid.

Blast! He knew not what to do about the ankle but put something below it for a cushion and support, so he rolled up his greatcoat and placed it underneath.

Darcy was finally able to examine her face more closely.

She had some bruising on her brow and dried blood in her hair.

If she had fallen down the ravine, she may even have some broken bones.

So he checked her arms and legs for any obvious fractures, and excepting her ankle, she seemed intact, but still he must remember to be gentle when moving her in case she had any internal injuries that were not apparent.

Darcy was able to look around the room to take stock in its contents.

He was relieved to see more wood, since any other options outside would be waterlogged.

He found a pot that he decided to use to collect rainwater for drinking.

She needed fluids, as he well remembered from his own illnesses.

The pot was dusty, as was everything else, so he had to first clean it.

There were no towels for such a job, so he removed his cravat.

Once the pot was relatively clean and collecting rainwater, he returned inside, beginning to feel his own effects of being cold and damp, but before considering his own predicament, he checked on Elizabeth.

She had begun to moan, shifting around, almost uncovering herself. “Calm down, Elizabeth. I’m back.”

“Say no more!Release me!”

This took Darcy by surprise. Does she think I am Langston? “Elizabeth, this is Darcy. I won’t hurt you”

“Lies!” Although with great intensity, her actual volume was difficult to hear.

Darcy leaned close to her and began whispering soothing words of comfort as he smoothed back her hair, wet from her perspiration and rain. The effect was evident as her breaths calmed somewhat. So it is true; she does talk in a restless sleep.

“Papa! I want my papa!”

His heart broke for her. He knew he had been a wretched husband.

She did not want him, but her father, as protector.

Darcy had sent her own tormentor into her midst despite her wishes for him to stay away.

I made her dance with him at the ball and chastised her for not wanting to.

My poor dear wife; she deserves better than me.

Darcy continued on with his ministrations as she fell back into a slumber, but he soon became aware of his need to get out of his own wet clothes.

Earlier he had hung Elizabeth’s clothes on nails and over chairs near the fire to begin the long drying process.

Darcy removed his coat and waistcoat and pulled his shirt out from his trousers.

He then stood by the fire for the warmth to let his remaining clothes dry while on him.

The room was warming up nicely since he had plenty of fuel for the fire and worked to keep up the blaze.

After a short while, however, fatigue from having too little sleep and too much exertion, without eating, hit him.

He sat on the floor next to his wife and let his eyes close.

DARCY AWOKE TO A DARKENED ROOM. The fire had dissipated, and the room was growing cold again. At first he was disoriented as to his location, but then realised that he was lying next to his wife who was sleeping soundly. He got up to stoke the fire and add wood.

When he began to warm up again, he sat back down and considered their predicament. How ironic it was that they would find themselves back in a cabin during a rainstorm; only this time, it was he who was the caregiver.

Darcy had vague recollections of the time spent in that cabin months ago, but what he most remembered now was the soothing and gentle touch of the then Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

She despised him then, yet she showed kindness.

She too felt it wise to remove some of his clothing to get him warm, and he accused her of nefarious purposes.

She too took pains to try to get warm herself, and yet he saw her efforts in light of seduction.

What a fool I am. She has always been so gracious to me considering my failings, yet I found only stratagem to ensnare me .

He laughed outright, not a laugh of mirth but irony.

Fate was cruel to him, mocking. But no, it could not be fate, but Providence, and He was not laughing but teaching, rebuking.

My lessons have been difficult, as well they should, but I will forever be grateful .

Then he began a prayer of sorts, asking for the restoration of Elizabeth’s health and for the health of their child.

He felt the comfort that comes to those whose hope rests in One stronger than themselves.

ELIZABETH BEGAN TO STIR. She was burning hot, no longer looking pale, but crimson with fever.

Darcy stood and rushed out the door to get the water bucket and then poured some into a bowl.

He then reached for her petticoat and tore off a strip, dipping it into the water.

“Well, my dear, it looks as though your petticoat will not survive this outing either.” Darcy then began a nightlong vigil of wiping her brow and soothing her distress, periodically getting her to drink some of the collected rainwater.

At length, Elizabeth awoke again and began looking around.

She could not recall where she was or how she had gotten there, but she saw her husband looking across the room, as if in a trance, with worry in his eyes.

The fire illuminated his handsome features and she wondered what had been happening.

She recalled having woken up near a ditch at the bottom of a ravine after a fall; she had tripped.

A deluge of rain fell around her, but she could not move owing to some kind of injury to her ankle and spells of dizziness each time she sat up.

Elizabeth had continued to worry about Langston, but her biggest fear at the time – aside from her baby’s safety – had been that she might not be found and had no way to alert anyone as to her location, for she was a long way from the house and any discernible pathway.

When Darcy finally arrived at home, the viscount would likely tell him some false story about her being gone, perhaps some fabricated tale of abandonment.

After hours of lying there in the dark, Elizabeth had become so very cold and felt slumber take control of her sensibilities.

And that was the end of her remembrance.

Apparently her husband did eventually find her. “What day is it?” she faintly asked aloud. He started and turned towards her.

“Elizabeth, you are awake. Thank God. Here let me get you some more water.” He reached over to the small bowl and brought it to her lips, while gently lifting her neck with his hand.

She drank a small sip, and with further encouragement, took more.

Darcy tenderly laid her head back down onto his rolled up jacket that he had turned into a makeshift pillow.

“How are you feeling? We have some bread and cheese. Are you warm enough?”

Elizabeth became aware of her state of undress. Her eyes opened wide as she looked down to her body where the blanket lay. Feeling underneath the covers, she realised she was completely naked. In tears of shame and anger, she said, “How dare you undress me!”

A startled Darcy looked kindly at her saying, “Elizabeth, just relax.”