Page 34 of Secrets Across the Sea
Staffordshire, England – 1812 – Day 16
Wincing as she moved beneath a strange weight, Elizabeth opened her eyes. Under her and on top of her were piles and piles of blankets, and within them… bricks? Forcing herself to reach for them, Elizabeth stilled as she met with more blankets, the hard, rectangular shapes within confirming her suspicions.
Throat parched, her gaze met the roaring fire beside her, its heat sweltering. Why? She had been out in the cold, trying to find wood… but she had not found it. Had she?
Lips thinned as she sought to roll away from the heat of the fire, her chest tightened. Darcy? Surely, he would not be sitting beside her whilst she slept? But there he was, asleep in a chair.
Whatever had happened?
Brows knitting, words and sensations and thoughts and vague images flitted through her mind. Cold. Pain. Fear. Promises. The sensation of being carried. A pair of eyes as gentle as they were determined. Exhaustion. Contentment. These each swirled about, intermingling until they emerged as a faulty but real memory. She had lost her way. Lain down by a tree. He… He had found her and somehow, he brought her home.
Just as he promised.
There were gaps. Fragments. Yet they told the story well enough. He had saved her. After everything he had said. The way she had ignored him. Still, he had been as brave, as loyal, as any man might. As if none of their disagreements or doubts had occurred.
“Elizabeth!” Mary whispered and shouted in the same breath. “At last, you have slept ever since he brought you back to us last night.”
“Water,” Elizabeth begged, a million questions forced to wait.
Within seconds Mary held a cup to Elizabeth’s lips, the liquid welcome and painful as she drank.
Setting the cup on a nearby table, Mary returned to her sister’s side, a hand wrapping around hers tightly. “Oh, Lizzy, we were so worried. I was nearly ready to go after you when Mr. Darcy and the Reverend came back in; as soon as he heard, Darcy all but raced out, though, the Reverend had him wait long enough to dress in more layers and bring a blanket for you.” Setting a second hand on top of Elizabeth’s, she shook her head, “It was hard to not go after you. When Mr. Bingley, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and the drivers returned, many of them wished to go as well, but the Reverend would not allow it until Darcy had had a chance to bring you back; he felt that if more men were sent out and Darcy came back with you, then we might have to send more out after those who had gone to search, and that such it might continue.”
“He was not wrong,” Elizabeth said hoarsely. “When Aunt was lost in the snow, they sent out five men; one of them brought Aunt’s body back, another two had the sense to give up the search, but two never returned. Either they became lost themselves or continued on because they thought Aunt Phillips was still out there.”
“That was the only thing that kept me from following after myself. Indeed, Mr. Bingley and Richard had to hear the tale from Jane before they would stay–indeed, had Darcy not come when he did, they would have gone nonetheless.”
“I would expect no less… but who is this ‘Richard’ you speak of? Surely it is not your Colonel?”
Face growing as red as ripened beets, Mary let go of Elizabeth’s hand.
“He…” fiddling with the edge of a blanket Mary’s lips curled in a smile. “I did not wish to say anything, with everything you have been through, but… in all of the anxiety and fear, well, he came to admit he is in love with me. ME ! Can you imagine that? I do not pretend blindness. I knew there was something very deep he felt for me… but I so feared it might be friendship. I… I cannot believe I am telling you this but.” Turning quickly toward the sleeping form of Mr. Darcy, then any possible place someone might hide, she blushed, “But when he admitted he loved me, I kissed him.” Eyes wide she pushed back a wayward hair, “What is even more shocking was he kissed me back!”
A brow raised, Elizabeth chuckled. “That was shocking to you? That a man who professed his love would not kiss you in return? Mary. Mary. I fear Jane and I did leave a few gaps in your education.”
Giggling, Mary shook her head, “Oh, Lizzy. I am content enough I do not mind your teasing; no, not content, in a state of utter bliss now that I know you are well. I have Richard’s love, my sisters are all well, and I suspect once a certain someone gets around to asking Jane for her hand, that I shall have three sisters married by the end of spring!”
“Artfully avoiding the issues Darcy and I have faced; though yes, if it is up to me, he and I shall be married as you say.” Resting a hand on her sister’s, Elizabeth gave it a squeeze before laying back, a heavy weariness beginning to form. “You too, if your beau has any sense.”
“After risking his life to save you,” Mary said, her face in full disapproval, “how you can think him inconstant enough to not marry you is a strange thing. He has not left your side from this morning until now, though he would benefit from a proper bed. The first night he fell asleep on a small settee in the drawing room. Today, he refused even that, remaining ever at your side. No. You two shall marry, on that I have no doubt.”
Poor Darcy. He had been through so much already. That chair appeared far too small… he would be sore by morning.
Grinning, Mary nodded, as if reading her sister’s thoughts. “Perhaps by the beginning of spring. Yes. That might be best.”
Lips pinching, Elizabeth changed the focus of their conversation. “What about you? A spring wedding?”
“If Richard can get past his pride. Meanwhile, he asked to court me, and we shall write to Uncle as soon as we may.”
“His pride?” Elizabeth questioned with a yawn.
“He wishes to settle his finances first, which could take as much as a year; it is not wholly necessary, we would be comfortable enough, particularly now that my dowry is to be substantial… but he is a man of no considerable pride. I, however, am a great deal more stubborn, I suspect a twelve-month shall be lessened.”
“I hope so,” Elizabeth smiled absent mindlessly, her eyes drifting to the man sitting nearby; his cravat absent, clothing mussed, and face marbled with stubble, he appeared as informal as he might be in the privacy of his own home. And remarkably handsome at that.
Head jerking toward her sister, Elizabeth’s face warmed as she rushed, “Did you say something?”
“Nothing of any import,” she chuckled as she stood. “Get some sleep. Either Jane or I will be down in a bit. Do you think you might manage a little broth then?”
Nodding, Elizabeth sunk further into the bedding, the knowing smirk of her sister making her wish she might sink further still until her attention again became fixed on a certain gentleman; his handsome mien the last thing she recalled before sleep overtook her.