Page 3 of Requirements for Love (Love in London with Mr Darcy #3)
Everyone looked at Mr Darcy, but what could he do other than bow and say he would be very glad for her to recover in his house? To refuse would be beyond the pale, even for a rude and arrogant man like him.
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at his cousin. “I will go to the cross street and hire a carriage for Mrs Gardiner and Miss Bennet, and then call on your sister? We will be back in an hour.”
He then took his leave and promised to visit the patient as Mrs Gardiner thanked him again and again for his timely help.
When he was gone, Mrs Gardiner came to Elizabeth’s side.
“How fortunate you slipped near to a friend. I could not in good conscience part with you if we had to leave you with a stranger. I can trust in Mr Darcy’s reputation, and you have known him for months. ”
Mr Darcy was not her friend, but even if he did announce he did not want her in his house, she would not proclaim their complete indifference to one another and embarrass everyone.
A footman entered to say that a carriage was waiting, and Mrs Gardiner promised to send her things this evening and visit her often. Jane embraced her and thanked Mr Darcy for his attentions, which he accepted with a solemn bow.
The door to the hall shut behind them, and they were alone.
The silence stretched, and Elizabeth felt certain that between her proud host and his disagreeable sister, silence and solitude would be her norm for the next two weeks. She sighed and looked down at her twisted ankle, blaming it for all her misery to come.
Mr Darcy came forward in an agitated manner and asked, “Are you in pain? Can I get you anything?”
She was in no more distress than before, but she would rather be alone. “I think I only need to rest.”
He nodded and then looked up at the ceiling as though considering the rooms above him.
“Up one flight of stairs are the public rooms and a parlour my sister has taken a liking to, and up another flight are the bedchambers. What if I have the parlour next to the drawing room turned into a bedchamber for you? Then you need not find someone to carry you down a flight of stairs to receive your friends.”
He would allow her to meet her friends in his drawing room?
And arrange for a bedchamber near to it?
Elizabeth dropped her gaze, ashamed that she assumed he would force her to meet with her aunt and sister in a spartan bedchamber in an attic, if he allowed them in at all. “Thank you. That is very kind.”
“There is a sofa in the room if you would like to go there now while the furniture is arranged.”
Elizabeth nodded and rose, balancing on one foot with a hand on the chair back. Hopping up the stairs would be tiring, but not difficult, and it looked like there was enough furniture for her to lean on between here and the hall.
“What are you doing?” he cried as she took a single hop toward a side table. When she did not make it and wobbled, Mr Darcy held her arm to steady her.
“How else would I make it up the stairs?”
“I would carry you,” he answered, as though the answer was obvious.
A hot blush spread over her cheeks. “I can make it if I balance on your arm and hop on my good foot.”
“And when you lose your balance and fall, you will land on your bad foot and injure it more.”
Elizabeth took another small jump to prove she was perfectly able, but swayed and gave a little shriek of alarm. Mr Darcy caught her by the waist to keep her from falling, and she threw an arm around his shoulder to balance herself.
“You little like accepting help,” he murmured. His voice was so near to her ear it sent a shiver through her.
He was right, and it galled her all the more. Still looking down, she said, “I can make my way up the stairs alone.”
“But why strain yourself and risk further injury when you have a friend to help you? ”
It was his calling himself her friend that made her raise her eyes to his.
She saw in his face that he was not mocking her.
He was in downright, sober earnest. His hands were still around her waist, and somehow now both of her hands were on his shoulders.
She had never been this near to him before, not even when they danced at Netherfield.
“May I carry you up the stairs?” he asked in a low voice.
She felt unequal to speaking and nodded.
He swept up her legs and took her in his arms, and carried her up the stairs.
She felt hot and embarrassed, but not like the way she had felt when Colonel Fitzwilliam carried her.
That was from the shame of having been injured and needing help.
This feeling was an odd awareness of where Mr Darcy’s hands were and his warm breath against her.
He entered a small parlour across from a large drawing room. He placed her carefully on a sofa and then stood silent for some time without speaking, only looking at her intently.
“Thank you,” she whispered. When he still watched her, she added, “Was there anything else you needed?”
He apologised for troubling her, promised that a bed and a dresser and everything else she would need would be brought in directly, and then said he would introduce his sister as soon as she arrived.
While the pain of a strained ankle preoccupied most of her thoughts, she spared some consideration to how unfortunate it was that a man who had done such harm to her friends was also perfectly well made and extremely handsome.