Page 4 of Obligation and Redemption

Elizabeth began to unbutton Mr. Darcy’s jacket.

She found more difficulty when trying to remove this layer, as his clothing was snug, made more so by the moisture.

Elizabeth had often wondered if a valet was truly necessary for the dressing, or in this case, undressing of men.

She had never suspected the inherent obstacles, until now.

She then tackled his waistcoat and cravat, placing them on a hook embedded within the rocks of the hearth, that they might dry.

So far, Elizabeth felt like she had succeeded in ridding him of his wet garments while maintaining respectability, should their location be revealed.

From here on, she must be discreet in her efforts.

Taking mental note of his form, she pondered whether he might benefit from more of his wardrobe being removed.

She could not help but notice the man’s muscular and well-proportioned physique.

He would be handsome, if not so arrogant; Elizabeth could not admire a man who felt himself above his company.

In the end, she resolved that she could not, and would not, remove any other layers of his attire; a blanket would have to suffice.

Elizabeth recognised the possible benefit of repositioning the bed in front of the fire in order to get Mr. Darcy off the floor.

In this way, he would be more comfortable, while keeping the chill of the ground from seeping into his frame.

Elizabeth promptly dragged the wooden bed, being more the size of a cot, towards the hearth.

“Mr. Darcy, I am going to lift you onto this bed. You will be more comfortable if I can get you off the floor.” He nodded and attempted to assist her, which made the task easier for her shaky legs, but unfortunately, the movement brought on more discomfort for the man than the effort may have been worth.

She covered him with the blanket and pushed the bed as close to the fire as possible.

She then regarded his left boot and the possible benefits of its removal.

His ankle might be sprained or even broken based on the unnatural angle of his foot while being dragged by his horse.

Despite being in and out of consciousness during the journey to the cabin, Mr. Darcy’s moans and verbal outbursts reflected the pain that had afflicted him.

Elizabeth suspected that the snug boot might be cutting off the circulation to his injured foot, owing to the possible swelling in his ankle.

It was decided; she had to get the boot off.

Deliberating how best to proceed, she thought to attempt pulling off the offending boot, but in the end acknowledged this might damage his ankle even more.

She hoped that Mr. Darcy would have the cognition to help her, so bending down closer to him, she tried to explain the problem.

He pointed to the dagger hidden within its mate.

Did Mr. Darcy suppose that he might run across a highwayman during his morning exercise?

She smiled to herself. Perhaps he did think their ways rather savage.

Forgetting her distracting mirth yet again, Elizabeth got to the task before her.

She soon found that cutting off the boot would not be as easy as she had anticipated.

She started at the top and methodically began the slow process of splitting the fine leather of his costly Hessian, careful not to touch his leg with the sharp tip.

Mr. Darcy was quiet and still as she worked, dozing in and out of slumber.

After a full twenty minutes had passed, she completed her efforts and was able to cautiously remove the boot.

She was startled by what she saw. Even through his stocking, she could see that his ankle was indeed swollen with dark bruising, and his toes were white and cold.

She pulled off the wet stocking and instinctively began to gently rub his toes with her hands in an attempt to enhance the circulation, but any movement to his ankle caused him to yell out more expletives.

He was obviously not as refined as he would have others believe him, and Elizabeth, in her love of irony, found this thought somewhat refreshing.

After wrapping his ankle in strips of fabric from her petticoat to minimise movement, she raised his injured foot onto a makeshift pillow using his own greatcoat and gently tucked the blanket under him

Elizabeth marked that the bandage on his head was again in need of replacing, so she removed her handkerchief from the sleeve of her pelisse.

She folded it into a small square and secured it where the blood soaked strip had rested.

His bleeding had abated but would still likely ruin her sister’s handiwork – the handkerchief had been a gift from her elder sister, Jane.

Nonetheless, the fabric was softer and cleaner than her dwindling petticoat and the perfect size for the task.

Her efforts finally catching up to her, Elizabeth sat on the side of the bed for a moment to rest. Tears again threatened to spill over onto her cheeks.

Please, Lord, take this burden from me. Determining that she should remove herself from the cot – and the room if it were possible – she stood, now trembling from fatigue and the chill.

Nevertheless, thirst and hunger soon overcame any other feeling that she had, as she regretted forgoing the usual breakfast roll that she had done without in her haste to leave the house.

But thirst she could resolve as there was plenty of water to be found outside.

Elizabeth looked around the small room for something to use to gather water and spotted the pitcher and washbasin on the small table next to where the cot had been.

She opened the latch of the door to take it outside, causing a cold wind to blow into the cabin.

Her wet clothes could not protect her from the biting chill, but they must have water, so out she went.

Although the rain was coming down steadily and could have provided plenty for her purposes if she would but set out the bowl, she decided to go to the well.

She was already wet, and it would be quicker.

She was rewarded for her efforts, as she was able to draw up a full bucket of clean water, which she added to the pitcher.

By now, her hair had completely escaped the pins of her hastily assembled chignon.

She attempted to brush aside the long strands that were determined to cling to her face, as she hastened indoors to get out of the frigid wind and rain, spilling some of her efforts along the way.

With numb hands, she carried the pitcher to the table.

Hanging upon the stones of the fireplace was a ladle.

Her hands were shaking as she scooped out some water and drank.

When Elizabeth had her fill, she offered some to Mr. Darcy, requiring that she help lift his head from behind as he took a sip.

After he swallowed, he turned his head aside, saying “No more. Please stop.”

Although the water went far to cure Elizabeth’s thirst, in the long run it actually made her colder than before. The trip out into the rain renewed the chill that had set in deeply, and she began to shiver uncontrollably while she paced around the room. If I keep moving, perhaps I can stay warm.

After a little while, Elizabeth stopped her pacing and glanced over to Mr. Darcy, who, to her, seemed in a deep slumber.

If she could but remove some of her wet clothing and hang it by the fire to dry, while leaving on her undergarments, she felt that she could wrap up in the quilt for modesty and warmth.

But then the thought intruded upon her that at any moment, they might be discovered, and she would surely be found wanting in propriety, modesty and all things decent.

However that may be, her body shook; she could not continue in her present state, and it was unlikely they would be found while the rain continued in torrents.

After adding another piece of wood to the fire, Elizabeth removed and set aside the rest of the pins from her hair.

Checking Mr. Darcy again for any sign that he might rouse, Elizabeth was satisfied and began to unbutton her woollen pelisse, which had somewhat protected her from the wind and chill, but could not fight the deep cold.

She hung the pelisse on the hook that had held the ladle, and turned it towards the warmth of the small fire.

Although her hands were still numb from the chill, she was able to quickly unbutton her dress, which thankfully fastened up the front, as she had prepared for her walk alone this morning.

She then dropped it down over her shoulders.

Elizabeth watched Mr. Darcy the entire time while removing the garment, and satisfied that he truly was not going to see her, she stepped out of the gown and turned to the fire to figure out how to hang her dress so that it might quickly dry.

She saw a broom on the other side of the fireplace leaning against the corner.

Using the top of the broom as a hook, she hung her dress there.

Since she had quickly dressed this morning and saw no need for a corset, she only had her chemise remaining, as her petticoat had been sacrificed to Mr. Darcy’s care.

As a result, she was quite exposed. Elizabeth turned to grab the quilt, and realised that in her haste to get out of her wet garments, she had inadvertently left it on the other side of the fireplace; she quickly reached for her covering and put it around herself.

Mr. Darcy stirred, and Elizabeth turned around to see if he still slept.

He was reaching up to his head and rubbing his temples, eyes open.

“Mr. Darcy, do you need something? May I fetch you some more water?”

“No. Umm I thank you. No,” he stammered, face turning red.