Page 7 of Obligation and Redemption
Elizabeth was no simpleton; she now fully understood the implication of his words.
Mr. Darcy was accusing her of manipulation, of taking advantage of the situation in which they found themselves, perhaps even of manufacturing the business, as ridiculous as that could have been.
She removed the waistcoat from its resting place and turned to hand it over to the conceited man before her.
Mr. Darcy attempted to rise to his elbows to accept and don his waistcoat; however, as Elizabeth was handing it over to him, nausea overtook him, and he vomited straight onto her newly dried gown.
If not for the vertigo, Mr. Darcy may have felt mortified, but the movement of the room overtook his senses and all he could do was drop back down to the cot, eyes closed.
Tears sprang to Elizabeth’s eyes, and this time she could not contain them, but there was no need for concealment now, as Mr. Darcy was far more engrossed in his own misery.
She dropped the garment and rushed over to her petticoat, happy that there was still some available.
After ripping off another portion, she began wiping off the emission that had landed on her clothing.
This was too much to bear. His accusations and disrespect added insult to her efforts to correct the debacle.
Having to bear his physical ailments and provide relief to him, all while he condemned her, was beyond her ability to cope.
Elizabeth was a reasonable woman; she could easily discern the truth of a situation and give merit and concession when due, but at this point, she was beyond seeing anything other than her own injury.
The tears flowed as she cleaned the mess, the odour filling her senses.
Did I err in removing Mr. Darcy’s clothing?
Elizabeth had attempted to be reasonable in her decisions concerning his care, but could her judgement have been clouded by her exhaustion?
Since entering the cabin, Elizabeth’s fatigue unceasingly bore down upon her.
Perhaps she had let her usually astute judgement lapse.
But there was no going back; what was done was done.
Wearily, Elizabeth dried her tears with another strip of petticoat, which had diminished to only a wide band.
As she cleaned the mess on her dress, she again resolved to take action now and leave the cabin to get Mr. Darcy medical attention and, if possible, have him removed to somewhere more comfortable.
With languor, she started back to Mr. Darcy’s side.
Surprisingly, Elizabeth found that this small amount of activity made her feel quite lethargic, as she leaned on the back of her chair.
She then noticed her brow was moist with perspiration despite not having exerted herself.
Amongst the five siblings, Elizabeth had always been the healthiest and least prone to illness.
She always attributed that to her time in the open air and to her hearty appetite.
She seldom developed ailments, and when she did, they were of short duration; this did not mean that she was completely immune to a malady.
Recently, her sister Kitty, and before her Mary and Jane, had succumbed to a cold which was introduced into the home by their servant, Sarah.
Elizabeth had developed a few sniffles herself, but even that seemed to have resolved.
Although, in the past hour she had begun to demonstrate signs of a resurgence of her illness, she refused to acknowledge the possibility.
Elizabeth was now determined to go. Although she had remained chilled throughout her time in the cabin, her shivering increased in earnest, despite having donned her outerwear.
Just then, a sneeze from Elizabeth startled her patient.
“Forgive me for disturbing you. I am about to leave for Longbourn to find help that will restore you to your friends.”
Eyeing her warily, he responded, “In the rain? Why not go to Netherfield if your goal is to seek assistance for my sake?”
“Mr. Darcy, I know you need aid that I cannot provide, and the rain has slowed down to where I believe I can remain protected underneath my pelisse. The fewer people who know of our time alone together, the better. My father and his staff will know how to keep this whole affair checked.”
“Or attempt to coerce a betrothal.”
“My father is a reasonable man. He trusts me and would be able to discern in but a moment that you have been unable to impose yourself upon me.” She sneezed again. “His servants are loyal and able to keep this noisome mess quiet.”
“And your mother? Is she as reliable as your father in protecting the interests of visiting neighbours?”
At this, Elizabeth paused, embarrassed that Mr. Darcy had obviously learnt more about her family by observation than she had hoped.
“I am certain my father will help to extricate me from this situation. As I am his favourite and as he has promised never to insist I marry someone I clearly do not wish to, I know he will deal with the difficulties. All my mother need know is that I found myself caught in the storm. You will be found coincidentally, and no one need know we were together, alone.” While looking for her handkerchief, she sneezed yet again, then again.
“If you go to Netherfield, I am certain Bingley will more quickly and quietly find me aid, which of course will include my valet. No one at Netherfield would desire to spread rumours of our time alone. Can the same be said of Longbourn?”
He had her there. Although she sincerely believed her father would protect her reputation and future at all cost, she could not say the same for her mother, or three younger sisters for that matter, if she could not conceal her whereabouts.
Another sneeze interrupted her thoughts.
I really must find my handkerchief. “The servants at Netherfield, can they be trusted?”
She had him there, but he was not about to relent.
He knew that if her father found them, he could push for a betrothal, which Darcy knew would be within his rights.
Her entire family could be ruined by her machinations, whether she knew the possible consequences for her actions or not.
She sneezed again. “If you do not have your handkerchief, I have one in my coat pocket.”
Just then, Elizabeth realised she had used hers earlier, and it currently resided on Mr. Darcy’s head. Why this was amusing to her, she did not know. Nothing about her situation was amusing, but her nature was to laugh at absurdities, so she responded with a slight giggle.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“No, I apologise if you thought that I might find something diverting about you. I can see that you do not appreciate a little humour, especially at your own expense. I just realised where my handkerchief is, and thought how silly of me.” At his puzzled expression, she pointed to his head.
“I used it earlier to control the bleeding. I had forgotten.” But then with a frown, she continued, “It was one of several – gifts from my sister, Jane. She embroidered my initials on it.”
“Please, then I insist you use mine.” As directed, Elizabeth retrieved the cloth from his coat pocket, just as a new sneeze escaped. “You are ill.”
“No, a little cold air has never made me sick before. I just have a tickle in my nose,” said she, while trying to appear unaffected. Mr. Darcy looked more closely at her and noticed that she looked flushed, and her eyes appeared weary.
“I think not.”
“Well, it cannot be helped, either way. I will not argue with you. You need help, and I need to seek it, preferably at Longbourn.”
Stubborn woman.
Elizabeth stood and faltered, leaning upon the chair. She glanced at Mr. Darcy, hoping in vain that he had missed that little performance.
“Miss Bennet, although I regret saying so, you must see that you cannot go out in the cold rain without protection in your weakened condition.”
“Mr. Darcy, I am not an incapacitated, delicate woman, and if I want to go out in this weather, I will. I appreciate your concern, especially in light of our current circumstances, but I will not wait a moment longer for someone to discover us. I am determined that we will not be found alone together. I will not be moved from my course!”
Yet Elizabeth was too late.