The door was opened and a distinguished man in his mid-sixties entered. He was shown into the room by Brown, who stood guard by the door.
“Mrs Smith, I am Dr Hayford and it is nice to meet you,” he said, entering the room with his eyes already on the patient on the bed. “Unfortunately, under such distressful circumstances. How is your husb—”
He flinched when his eyes rested on her face. “Good God, I heard your husband was accidentally shot during a hunting party, but I was not expecting to have two patients. What happened to your face?”
Elizabeth ran to the mirror to check her appearance. The purple bruise on her cheek and the cut on the swollen lip were a frightening sight. “I had not noticed it was so bad.” She paused, just enough to think about what to say. “While attending to my husband, I… hit my face against the door of the carriage. It was a silly accident. But, please do not concern yourself with me. I am well.”
Dr Hayford approached, gently taking her chin. He gave her face a good look and frowned. Elizabeth held her breath while the doctor kept his eyes on her face, until he nodded. “Thank goodness it is not a nasty cut. Just put something cold on it, will you? Now let me see your husband. What an unfortunate event,” he said, turning from her.
Elizabeth released her breath slowly, looking at Brown, who had his hand on his hidden pistol. Fortunately, Dr Hayford seemed to be the kind of man who once focused on his own work would not pay attention to anything else.
“Yes, sir, very unfortunate indeed,” Elizabeth said, performing her role in the farce. But she had more important things to be concerned about. “Doctor, after the… incident,” she said looking back at Brown, “I tried to stop the bleeding, and as you can see, I tied it up with some bandages. I hope that was enough.”
Dr Hayford opened Mr Darcy’s shirt, and Elizabeth averted her eyes, trying to control her effusive blushing. She had done the same before, but this time the light was much better. She kept reminding herself that there was no reason to be embarrassed. God willing, she was going to marry Mr Darcy.
The doctor, however, contrary to what she had done before, could not work with his patient still wearing his shirt. And now, with some renewed alarm, she heard him ask, “Mrs Smith, would you mind giving me some help here? He seems to be unresponsive.” She gasped, widening her eyes. “I do not want to move him more than is necessary to remove his clothes. If you hold him, like this. Yes. Perfect.”
Elizabeth found herself in the most awkward situation ever. She was sitting on the bed, holding Mr Darcy by his undressed chest, while the doctor was pulling the shirt off by the sleeves.
“Elizabeth…” Darcy mumbled confused.
Moved by an array of feelings which she would not bother to understand in that moment, she just held him still, resting her head against his good shoulder while the doctor finished his task.
Dr Hayford huffed. “Thank you, Mrs Smith. Now let us lay him down again. Yes. Good. ”
As soon as they had placed Darcy against the pillows, Elizabeth blushed effusively. She could barely believe her eyes, blinking a couple of times before turning. She had never seen an undressed man in her life, not even her father when they used to swim in a lake not too far from Meryton when she was still a child. But she had been to museums and seen some of those ancient Greek marble statues. If what they said about their singular masculine beauty was true, well, then Mr Darcy was indeed a very handsome man.
“Yes, you have done a good job, Mrs Smith. Essential, I would say, as you managed to stop his bleeding. Now, if you could continue holding his arms, I will start looking after this wound. Mr Brown, would you mind removing his boots? I want him to be as comfortable as possible. The poor fellow will feel a lot of pain from now on.”
Elizabeth quickly saw the opportunity. As soon as Brown moved from her side to the bottom of the bed, without taking her eyes from the evil man, Elizabeth noticed the doctor’s eyes on her. Her glance quickly shifted between the doctor and Brown; then, when Brown bent down to pull Darcy’s boots, Elizabeth looked at the doctor and silently mouthed, “help”. She immediately moved her eyes back to Brown, who fortunately missed the brief interaction.
She did not know if the doctor had understood her meaning. Hopefully, he would at least suspect that something was amiss.
But, if the doctor had understood her, he did not show it in any way, as he continued carefully removing his patient’s old bandages.
Darcy moaned and opened his eyes momentarily.
“It seems your husband is waking up, Mrs Smith. Well, who can sleep with such pain?” Dr Hayford asked, looking apologetically at Elizabeth. “However, for me it is better to assess my patient’s real condition before I determine the treatment. I advise you to be strong, please. If you think you cannot cope with witnessing his suffering, I do not mind you leaving the room. Mr Brown can certainly help me.”
Elizabeth did not need to look at Brown to respond. “Do not fret for me, Doctor. I will be fine. I cannot conceive the idea of leaving my husband’s side in a moment like this.” It was a strange feeling to realise she really meant it. She would not leave Mr Darcy’s side, unless they dragged her from him.
“Very well,” replied the doctor. “As you wish. Let us start then. Would you have some towels and water, Mr Brown?”
From where he stood, Brown shouted somebody’s name and the person immediately entered the room with a jug and a washing bowl, and some clean towels. Brown obviously did not want to give her the chance to be alone with the doctor.
“What is your husband’s name, Mrs Smith?” Dr Hayford asked a little surprised with Brown’s consideration.
“Ah, um… William, sir. William Smith.”
“Some people in his state of consciousness react better when they are called by their Christian names,” the doctor said. “Would you mind calling him, Mrs Smith? He will be more responsive to a familiar voice.”
Elizabeth nodded. “William, dear,” she said, caressing his face. “Please, William, wake up…”
She smiled when Darcy opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times.
“Elizabeth…” he whispered, closing his eyes again.
“William, the doctor is here to see you,” she continued. “He needs to talk to you.” Elizabeth sighed in relief when he looked back at her with some understanding. “Dear, we are back at the cottage. Perhaps it will be difficult for you to remember, but you were shot while you and the others were hunting.” She hoped he would understand the hidden meaning behind her words. “We came back to the cottage as soon as possible and the doctor was called. He is here now.”
Darcy, more alert now, tried to sit up. His eyes found Brown — the man who had shot at Elizabeth. Rage filled his heart and he started panting while locking his gaze with the man.
Elizabeth cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. “William, dear, look at me. You do not need to worry. Everything will be fine.”
It worked. Darcy looked back at her, shutting his eyes, reluctantly nodding his acceptance .
She sighed in relief. “This is Dr Hayford, and he will look after you. But Mr Brown and I will be here with us all the time ,” she concluded, trying again to say with her eyes more than was possible with words. He nodded, this time looking at her.
“Good, good. Now, Mr Smith, do you remember how you were hurt?”
“Not much, I am afraid. I… was standing in the grove when I heard the noise from behind me. Last thing I remember was Elizabeth holding me inside the carriage, explaining what had happened while we were heading back here.”
“Ned, the idiot,” Brown intervened for the first and only time, “did not see Smith behind the bushes and accidentally shot him.”
“Indeed?” Dr Hayford asked raising one eyebrow, turning to Darcy. “So, I am guessing this big lump on the back of your head is the result of your fall. Ah! And more blood. No wonder you are so dizzy. Well, anyway, now that I am sure you are well enough, I suggest you take some more laudanum. It will be for your benefit, but also for mine. Sewing a screaming person is not a pleasant activity; it reminds me of the war…” He turned to Elizabeth. “Would you still have some left?”
Elizabeth went to fetch the bag Brown had thrown on the floor earlier. She sighed, giving Brown a quick glance. “The bottle fell on the floor and the cork loosened. I am afraid it is practically empty now.”
Dr Hayford took the bottle, giving it a good look. “Well, it will have to do. It is not enough to make Mr Smith free from pain, but we do not have any other option. Unfortunately, in my hurry, I did not put any laudanum in my bag. Unless you have some brandy or whisky, Mr Brown? We could try a bit of that as well,” he said, pouring some water into the bottle, shaking it, and handing it to Darcy.
“Unfortunately not, Doctor,” Brown lied. The last thing he would do was waste his whisky on that dandy.
“Well, never mind. Mrs Smith,” the doctor said, turning to her, “if you could help your husband to sit and stay still, I will start cleaning the wound as soon the laudanum has taken effect. We can put some pillows here. If you sit on those pillows beside your husband, we can put his good arm around your back, and you can hold his head and the other arm. There. Now I can see both sides of the wound. You see? The bullet entered here,” he said pointing at Darcy’s back, “and left through here. Well, it is a blessing I do not need to remove it. Nasty thing, it is. Fortunately, Mr Smith’s condition, although precarious and delicate, is not life threatening,” he said, turning to organise his things.
“I am so sorry for this…” Darcy whispered, looking down to his bare chest where Elizabeth had her arms.
“It means you must marry me now,” she said, shyly smiling at him.
“There. Let us start. Unfortunately, you will need to wait for a while before wielding a sword again, young man. For now, I suggest you firmly hold onto your wife. This will not be pleasant. Bite this,” he said, giving Darcy his handkerchief. “It will help you afterwards. Now, Mrs Smith… you do not look very comfortable. Perhaps Mr Brown could help you—”
“No,” Elizabeth interrupted. “I mean, I can hold my husband, Doctor. Do not worry about me.”
“Very well then. Mr Brown, you can hold Mr Smith’s legs. It seems the laudanum is already working.”
Darcy bit the handkerchief as his mind became foggy. His head was resting against Elizabeth’s chest, her discreet scent of lavender and rose filled his nostrils, while she held him in her arms, her fast breathing caressing his skin. If his head could go a little further down, his face would be exactly over her breas—
Darcy gasped. His inappropriate thoughts were cut short by a sharp pain.
“Easy there, Mr Smith! Mrs Smith, please keep his head down. You are a very lucky man,” Dr Hayford continued. “Your wife took good care of you. She did an excellent job staunching the bleeding. I say, what a task. The shot was very close to an important vein between your neck and shoulder. Had the wound been a bit lower, we would not be talking right now.”
After a few minutes the doctor looked up at Brown. “Mr Brown, would you mind holding this for me? Thank you,” he said, fetching some new instruments from his bag. Elizabeth glanced at Brown, just to see his narrowed eyes on her; eyes of malice and evil. Brown was enjoying all he was seeing.
The doctor looked down at Elizabeth. “How are you doing, Mrs Smith? Although your husband is not completely awake, he is feeling a lot of pain, so I need you to keep holding his arms. I have finished cleaning, and now I will start stitching the wound.”
During the procedure, Dr Hayford kept talking and asking questions, and Elizabeth was glad for it. It distracted her from what was happening. The distress of holding Mr Darcy in that way, hearing each one of his moans as the needle pierced his flesh, pressing his sweaty body against her, was almost unbearable. Elizabeth was sure she would die if the doctor did not end it soon.
“I am almost finished… some more bandages here… Can you lift his arm a little? Yes. Done.”
After the job was concluded, the doctor asked them to carefully put Darcy back, rearranging the pillows below his head to keep it higher, drying the sweat from his face, and covering him with the blanket.
“I must warn you, my dear. This kind of injury can cause him to develop a fever.” He stopped and checked his pocket watch. “Um… five o’clock. I can come back at nine this evening to check on him again.”
Giving Elizabeth all the extra information she needed to care for her husband and his possible fever, Dr Hayford left after collecting his things.
Before quitting the room, Brown turned to her. “Well done, miss. Even I could believe you were his wife. But your blushes were the best part. An innocent damsel… you’ll be perfect.” He laughed and approached her, his fowl breath turning her stomach. “I wonder how it feels to be hugged in that way by a soft body like yours. I almost wanted to be shot for it,” he said looking at her curves from head to toe. He sneered and left the room, locking the door after him.
Elizabeth shivered, and for the first time was concerned about what those ruffians might do to her.