Beginning, Section II

Chapter 1

Posted on Sunday, 17 September 2006

Elizabeth Bennet was lost, lost in her thoughts and the beauty of the country she was passing through. She had just been roused from her silent admiration of the majestic county of Derbyshire by her Aunt Gardiner's remark about the village of Lambton. On their tour of the county, they were to stop in the village her aunt called "the dearest place in the world." However, it also happened to be only 5 miles from Pemberley. The mention of his estate, and the thought of its being so near to where they would be staying, caused a few moments agitation to intrude on Elizabeth's otherwise tranquil mind.

It still made her cringe to think how horribly she had treated Mr. Darcy, especially during the disastrous evening of his proposal at Hunsford. The unjust accusations she had leveled at him and the blunt manner in which she had expressed her utter dislike of him would surely make him hate her! Any meeting with him now would most likely be thoroughly unpleasant and should be avoided at all costs.

Thus, the thought of being only 5 miles from his estate was quite enough to cause Elizabeth's thoughts to run more frantically through her brain. However, once her aunt had assured her that their paths would not cross since they did not enjoy the privilege of intimacy with that family, Elizabeth was able to sincerely express her happiness at being on the road to the village her aunt loved so dearly...

Fitzwilliam Darcy rode as if the very demons of hell were on his heels, pursuing him from London as he returned once again to Pemberley. Just the day before, while going through his fencing exercises, sweating and pushing his body to the limits, it was as if he was fencing Satan himself. His demons were of a different kind, however. He was trying to escape, let there be no doubt about that. But he was trying to outrun the most impossible foe of all: his own heart. The battle had been unrelenting for months, ever since that wretched day at Hunsford.

Nay, if he was truly honest with himself, the battle had begun the very first day he ever laid eyes on Elizabeth Bennet. At first, he had battled to hold back the increasing regard he was feeling for her, which grew more acute during her stay at Netherfield and his visit to Rosings Park. Then, he had battled to defend himself against her accusations about his conduct towards Wickham, pouring out his family history to her in a letter.

Since then, and until this very moment, the battle was to conquer and beat back his love for her, to banish and destroy the hope of a life with her that could never be. He tried to let the lush summer countryside of Derbyshire bring him comfort as he rode, but in reality he saw very little of it. His mind was engaged in the battle, the battle he knew he was losing...

The Gardiners and their niece decided they needed a break from the bumpy ride of the carriage over the road. Elizabeth longed to roam over her surroundings for just a little while, and convinced her aunt and uncle to go for a walk with her up into some of the small peaks that jutted up from the landscape. She wanted a better view of the lush scenery, because she imagined the journey up would be just as delightful as the final scenic reward. They set off with one of the servants, and soon Elizabeth was standing on the rocky crest of one of the peaks, with her aunt and uncle and the servant some distance behind and below her. It felt as if the whole of the world was spread out at her feet. She felt light of heart and fully in awe of the creation around her.

From behind her, she heard her aunt call out in concern for her safety, "Elizabeth, be careful! How could I face your father if you took a fall?" Elizabeth couldn't help chuckling slightly to herself at that, since she was certain of being one of the most sure-footed females in England. To prove it to herself, she decided to find a new position on top of the hill...

Darcy found himself pulling up his horse to be still and look at the peaks he knew so well. Even though he had seen them countless times since childhood, there was something so powerfully calming about them that they never ceased to strike him. He now looked to the majestic peaks, hoping they would show him their secrets of stability and serenity. While scanning, searching for answers, his eyes caught on the figure of a woman standing at the highest point in his field of vision. He saw no other signs of human life, and wondered at a woman roaming over the peaks by herself, especially at such a height.

He knew of only one woman who would be comfortable attempting such a thing, but knew he could not reasonably expect her to be anywhere in this part of the country, so near to his home.

While acknowledging the logic of these thoughts, but still looking for a resemblance between the distant woman and the woman of his heart, he was frozen in horror at the sight of the woman suddenly losing her footing and tumbling down the slope of the peak...

Chapter 2

Darcy was frozen, paralyzed by what he had just witnessed. It seemed as if he and his horse were in a state of suspended time. Neither could move; Darcy wasn't sure if he was even breathing. After those first seconds, however, his thoughts began to come back quickly.

Oh, God! That woman is all alone and injured, possibly even dead. What am I going to do? I have to help her, of course, but how? Well, first you have to get to her, man! Move it!

This inner conversation helped Darcy overcome his paralysis and he kicked into the muscular sides of his horse, shooting the both of them forward in the direction of the helpless woman...

On the other side of the hill, hidden from Darcy's view, the Gardiners had just gone through similar moments of shock, horror, and inability to move from their position, made all the worse by not being able to see whether or not their beloved niece was alright. They strained to hear her voice, fought to catch any sound of a laugh to ridicule her own clumsiness, but no such welcome sound was to be had.

The Gardiners turned their heads and looked at each other as Mrs. Gardiner's hands came to cover her mouth with the gasp of one word: "Lizzy!" They knew they had to get to her, now, but as they couldn't risk falling themselves, they had to move up the side of the peak at an agonizingly slow pace. It seemed like lifetimes had passed before they finally managed to gain the rocky summit their niece had occupied only a few minutes before. Just as they reached this point, they saw the tall figure of a gentleman rapidly dismounting his horse and running up the base of the hill to the place where Elizabeth had come to rest...

Darcy knew he was very close to the spot where the woman's descent had ended, but he was interrupted in his single-minded mission by the sight of a man and woman who had just appeared on the crest of the hill.

The only thought this sparked in Darcy's mind was Thank God I am not alone! There is someone else to help me!

He didn't even stop to think of who they were or even if they knew this woman, but he knew he had to enlist their assistance. If they were truly genteel people, which at first glance he thought they were, they would be willing to come to this poor woman's aid. With this in mind, Darcy took full advantage of his take-charge style and started shouting instructions to the two strangers...

The Gardiners would both remark in later days that they would have found Mr. Darcy's manner of address abrupt, and even rude, under any other circumstances. At the present moment, however, their deep emotional distress at seeing their niece lying motionless and being unable to immediately reach her left them willing to follow any direction the stranger would give that could be of help to Elizabeth.

They heard him shout at them, "You there! Please, this woman needs our help! Go to your carriage immediately and ride into the village of Lambton. It is only about a mile or two from here. There, ask to have Dr. Sheldon accompany you at once to my estate at Pemberley. I will take her there on my horse, and we should be there already when you arrive. Now go, quickly!" They could do nothing but comply, as they had no other plan, and so they took one last look at their niece and left her in the care of a man who, if they had had their wits about them, they would have realized was the master of Pemberley himself, Mr. Darcy...

Darcy's instincts had kicked in, and he had regained control of his mind tolerably well. He had sent the man and woman on their way to get the doctor to Pemberley, and now he had to do his part. He still had a short distance to run before he reached the woman, and he did so now without delay. Arriving slightly breathless but relieved to have finally reached her, he saw what he had been unable to see before. Fitzwilliam Darcy's legs could no longer hold him up and he sank to his knees with grief as he saw Elizabeth Bennet's still beautiful but apparently lifeless form lying on the rocky ground before him...

Chapter 3

Life. It was a quality, an idea, a characteristic that Fitzwilliam Darcy had inextricably linked in his mind with Elizabeth Bennet from almost the first day he met her. She had so much zest, so much vitality, so much sparkle and energy and wonder at the world around her… Just so much life. That kind of life was something Darcy had taught himself over the years to live without. He was always too busy, had too many responsibilities, too many worries to spend much time on the business of living. He had been serious as a child, and after the deaths of his parents he had been handed the roles of master of Pemberley and guardian of Georgiana. There was no lightness, no real enjoyment of much of anything in his life from the day his father died and even before that.

Until Elizabeth…. Until the first time she turned those sparkling, amazingly lively eyes in his direction… Until the first time she uttered a witty remark at some comment of his… Until the first time he was able to touch her while they were dancing together at Netherfield.

Like a mirror being held up before his eyes, she had shown him everything he had been missing while he had been so busy being the responsible one. When he was around her, he became a better version of himself. She helped him open parts of himself, pieces of his soul that he had long neglected. Her being so completely alive made him feel alive in ways he had never experienced before. She had captivated him so completely, shined light in so many dark corners of his being, that when she so soundly rejected his offer of marriage he could actually feel himself withdrawing, could see the light going out. For those past few wretched months, he had been even worse off than before he met her. He had been given a taste of what life could be, all the incredible beauty and enjoyment it could offer, and now he was being forced to go on without it. During those months, he had come to believe that nothing could be worse than the pain of such a deprivation.

He believed it until the moment when he first saw her on the ground on that hill in Derbyshire, not moving, not speaking, maybe not even breathing. Life. It was the one thing he had never expected to see her lacking in any way. And to see it now, to see her in that condition, was cutting apart his soul and tearing it out of his body piece by piece. The weight of the emotion had brought him to his knees, and it now drew out of him a cry so overflowing with pain that the very earth beneath him mourned with him:

"Nooooooo!"

Chapter 4

Posted on Sunday, 24 September 2006

He had to know. If he thought he had been paralyzed by watching her fall from a distance, he was as frozen as an ice cube in seeing her lying on the ground just a few feet away from where he was on his knees. But somehow he had to work his way out of his shock and grief to crawl those few feet. He had to get to her. He had to know. He had to find out if she was still alive. From his place at the moment, he couldn't tell. And he had to know. He had to know whether or not he could help her. He had to know if sending the strangers for the doctor had even been worth it. And he had to know whether or not his life was going to end as well. For the one thing he did know, as surely as he knew that he loved her, was that if she were lying dead in front of him, he would just lay down and die right beside her.

He slowly managed to put one hand in front of the other, one knee in front of the other, just like a toddler. And when he finally reached her, when he finally touched her and looked full into her face, he didn't know if the knowing was better or worse than the not knowing?

The Gardiners were just reaching the outskirts of Lambton, and the full weight of what had happened to their niece was still trying to sink into their brains. They said very little in the carriage, both overwhelmed in thoughts and prayers and in remembering what the gentleman had commanded them to do when they reached the village. It was the one thing they had that was keeping them sane, the thing that was keeping them from breaking down. They had a mission, a purpose, and they had to fulfill it. It was the only thing they could do at this point to help Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, whom they had both realized after they were on their way in the carriage that they had left without even knowing if she was alive or dead. But they had to believe she was alive. They had to believe that their mission, their purpose, their pursuit of getting the doctor to Pemberley was not in vain. It was the only thing they could believe.

He had watched her chest rise and fall, had leaned his face down near to hers, and decided that her breathing was the most wonderful thing he had seen or felt in his entire life. While his face was close to hers, he gazed at her beloved features. He hadn't even known a few hours ago if he was ever going to see her again. These were, of course, never the circumstances he would have chosen to bring her back into his circle, but he felt the possibility for redemption. It was in his hands. She had been divinely placed into his hands, and he would not let this opportunity of chance to come to her aid to pass him by.

His heart felt prayer: if only God will allow her to live. If He would only let her live, Darcy could prove to her how much he loved her. He could show her that his life was an empty shell without her. Darcy knew in that moment he would be able to strengthen himself for whatever was ahead. He had to be her strength, and the thought of this is what would see him through. He took the opportunity of having his face so close to hers to gently whisper into her ear. He had no idea whether or not she could hear him, but he had to say it anyway.

He whispered, his voice breaking with all the love and pain mixed together, "You cannot leave me, Elizabeth Bennet. Not now. Not when I have a chance to make amends. Please, stay with me, my love. Don't let yourself slip away. Show that spirit I have come to love so much in you and FIGHT! Hang onto me until I can get you to the doctor. Please do not die, please do not leave me, please."

He continued to plead with her, to try to infuse her with some of his strength as he placed his arms underneath her and cradled her like the treasure she was. He clutched her tightly as he carefully made his way to his patiently waiting horse.

Chapter 5

Dr. Edward Shelton was restless. He got out of his comfortable armchair to pace around the small parlor in his residence, again, and reconsidered for the millionth time his decision to set up his practice in the sleepy village of Lambton right after receiving his license to practice medicine. He was, after all, still very young, and almost everyone knew that the action young physicians craved was to be found in only one place: London. But then he remembered the man whose kindness and generosity had caused him to lean towards and then passionately pursue a career in medicine when he was an even younger man than he was at present.

This gentleman, and the fact that he was raised very near to Lambton, continued to tie him here in opposition to his more wild longings for adventure. He had made a promise, and he intended to keep it. The man who had elicited this promise, God rest his soul, was the deceased father of the current master of Pemberley, Fitzwilliam Darcy. The elder Mr. Darcy had taken notice of Edward Shelton one day when Mr. Darcy's horse had sustained an injury on the main road outside of town, a road that Edward just happened to be walking on at the time. He helped Mr. Darcy tend to the injured animal, and they began a conversation. Mr. Darcy had suggested that Edward had great promise as a doctor for animals, and Edward had confessed his long-standing desire to become a doctor for people instead.

Something about the young man struck Mr. Darcy, and from that day forward he was determined to make sure that Edward Shelton got the chance to follow his dream. It goes without saying that when Edward Shelton eventually became Dr. Edward Shelton, he felt all the gratitude that Mr. Darcy's generosity rightly deserved. Upon Edward's graduation from medical school, Mr. Darcy had taken the opportunity to extract a promise from the young man he had impacted so deeply. Mr. Darcy wanted to make sure there would always be a good physician within an easy distance of his estate at Pemberley, and he knew that the physician in Lambton was nearing retirement. It didn't take too much convincing, all the arrangements were made, and Dr. Edward Shelton took over the practice of Dr. Kingsley of Lambton.

To the great shock and sorrow of the young doctor, Mr. Darcy had passed away not too long after his arrival in Derbyshire. But he would honor the promise he had made to the great gentleman, Mr. Darcy, until the day he himself retired from his profession. He would stay in Lambton so that he could remain close to the Darcy family, to take care of them as Mr. Darcy had wanted. Absorbed in thoughts of all he might be missing in London, and yet eternally grateful for Mr. Darcy's assistance, he ceased his pacing as a frantic man and woman, accompanied by a servant, burst into his parlor and nearly shouted, "Please! You must help us! You must come with us to Pemberley at once!"

It took a bit of maneuvering, but Darcy managed to get both himself and Elizabeth up on his horse. He took every step, made every move, with the swiftest of caution. He could not get her to the doctor fast enough. He would have snapped his fingers and had Dr. Shelton appear magically before him if he only had the power. Time was precious, but he knew he couldn't jostle her too much, not knowing how seriously she was injured. Imagination, hopes, and prayers led him to envision every few seconds that she would just open her eyes, gaze up into his, laugh that beautiful beloved laugh, and they would go for a lovely ride in the countryside with everything being right in the world. But this ride would be much more urgent, with a heart much more heavy, than his imagined scenario.

Right now, he knew, he would just have to content himself with continuing to feel her breath, continuing to hear her heart beating as he held her close. These were the threads of his sanity, the reason that he would press on to get to Pemberley. If he lost these signs of life from her, he would lose everything. He heaved a deep sigh, full of desperation and longing, and kicked gently into the sides of his horse. He whispered to her again, "Hold tight, my love. We will be home soon. Dr. Shelton will come, and everything will be alright. Everything will be alright." As he said it, he tightened his grip around her, trying to convince himself that it was true.

As soon as he heard the couple mention the word Pemberley, Dr. Shelton was already moving across the room to get his bag with his medicines and supplies in it. For whatever reason he was needed, he would go. He didn't need to ask questions. He assumed these strangers would explain the situation as they traveled to Pemberley. It would save time not to press for details as they stood in his parlor.

After making sure he had everything (which was impossible considering he didn't know what he would face on his arrival), he turned to the man and woman and said quickly, "Let us go at once. You can fill me in once we are on the road." Dr. Edward Shelton was sure he would never forget the look of pure relief and gratitude on the faces of those two human beings for as long as he lived. He closed the door of his house behind him, climbed into the waiting carriage, and asked with as much calm in his voice as he could muster, "Now, tell me what is going on." As the couple introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and began to tell him their story, the thought crept into the back of his brain that he might just get some adventure in sleepy little Lambton after all.

Chapter 6

Elizabeth Bennet was lost, lost in the prison of her own injured body, and trapped inside her own mind. When she was a little girl, her worst nightmare had not been about monsters or goblins or gypsies. No, the nightmare that had been most frightening to her as a child might have made others look at her in bewilderment if she had told them of it.

The dream started with her in a very small house, but it could only really be called a house because it had four walls and a roof. There were no windows, only the one room, and nothing but dirt for the floor. In the center of that one room was a large, deep pit with very smooth sides. No way out of the pit. Nothing to hold onto to help a person climb out and the walls were far too high even if you managed to hold onto something. In her nightmare, Elizabeth was in the pit. It was dark and cold and there was no way out. She cried out for help, over and over, and expended all the energy she could to try to climb out of the pit, but she could never get out.

The feelings of exhaustion, helplessness, and fear of a long, slow death had terrified her more than any monster ever could. It had been years since she had dreamt this dream, but now it all flooded back, more real than ever. It seemed like she was living her nightmare. She was trying to get out of the pit, trying to fight and claw her way back to the surface, but it was no use. It just took too much energy, energy she knew she didn't have.

Yet something was different from the nightmare of her youth. Something had changed. Somehow, in the midst of all that darkness and exhaustion, Elizabeth got the sense that there was someone at the top of the pit. Someone was talking to her, calling down to her, encouraging her, trying to help her get out. She had never felt any security, any hope, any love in her nightmare before. Now it was there, someone was there with her, and she knew she could keep climbing, keep trying, until she and her helper found a way to get her out of the pit. For now, she decided in her clouded mind to lean against one of the walls, get some of her energy back, and prepare for her next attempt to escape her nightmare.

Darcy kept talking to her, had to keep talking to her, even though it was a one-sided conversation. He was glad that Elizabeth's fall had not taken place at a very great distance from Pemberley, and yet the time seemed to stretch into many long hours in his desperation to get her there, to get her to help. But no matter how slow the trip to Pemberley seemed on this day, it would have seemed as slow as flowing molasses had he not been able to talk to her.

He talked about everything and nothing. He babbled mindlessly about his recent business dealings and social commitments, described the scenery they were riding through without really seeing it, talked about the expected arrival of his sister and Mr. Bingley at Pemberley in the next day or two. Eventually, however, his emotions so overwhelmed him that he had to just start pouring out his heart. Whether she could hear him or not didn't matter. He just had to let her know how much he needed her, how empty and desolate he had been without her these past months, how he longed to show her his reformed and humbled self in the hopes that she would come to accept his attentions towards her. He told her every single thing he loved about her. He told her how he loved her stunning physical beauty, with her eyes so amazingly bright they floored him every time he looked at her. He told her how he loved her caring and loving heart, the one that led her to Netherfield covered in mud without paying heed to what Miss Bingley would think. He told her how he loved her sharp and learned mind, the one that challenged him to look at the world in new ways and always kept him on his toes. He said it all with a voice choking with tenderness and breaking with tears barely held beneath the surface.

When the outer boundary of the Pemberley lands finally came into view, he actually managed a tiny smile. Pulling up his horse for just a minute, he said to her, "We are nearly there, darling Elizabeth. I will get you to Dr. Shelton and he will bring you back to me. You will see, now that I finally have you at Pemberley where you belong, there is no way I am going to let you get away!" With this new resolve, he was ready to kick into his horse again to take them to the house. He stopped dead in his tracks when he looked down at Elizabeth, realizing that she had just stopped breathing.

It was just too hard. She couldn't fight anymore, couldn't find any more strength to get herself out of the pit. She laid down in the dirt at the bottom of the pit and closed her eyes, wishing for the ultimate release. But her helper at the top of the pit was growing louder and more insistent, and the man's voice she heard was somehow familiar. She decided to listen to him for just a little longer.

"ELIZABETH! ELIZABETH NO! COME BACK TO ME! YOU CANNOT LEAVE ME! BREATHE ELIZABETH, BREATHE! OH GOD, PLEASE DO NOT TAKE HER! YOU ARE NOT A QUITTER, ELIZABETH BENNET, YOU ARE A FIGHTER! FIGHT YOUR WAY BACK! BREATHE, PLEASE BREATHE!" He gently shook her, stroking her hair, kissing her face, and shouting as if trying to make sure God heard him.

"You are a fighter, Elizabeth. He says you are, and you know you do not want to stay here. Get yourself up off this floor and try."

"But it is too hard and I am so tired."

"Has that ever stopped you before?"

"I do not know, I cannot think."

"You do know, just as you know that you can do this. Go to him, climb to him. Come on get up -- try again!"

"Oh, leave me alone."

"It is worth it, Elizabeth. Trust me, he is worth it."

That decided it. The battle between the two sides of Elizabeth's mind was decided. She found her inspiration for the strength to pull herself up off the floor and using only her hands started to dig out holes from the smooth sides of the pit. She would make something to hang onto. She would make her own way out. Up above, at the top, her promise was waiting; that he would be worth it.

Thus, on a horse on the outskirts of Pemberley, Fitzwilliam Darcy gave a primitive cry of joy as Elizabeth Bennet's breathing returned, strong and normal.

Chapter 7

Posted on Sunday, 1 October 2006,

Dr. Edward Shelton listened intently as Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner explained the terrible circumstances that had led them to his door, which now led them pounding across the five mile distance from Lambton to Pemberley in the Gardiner's carriage. Dr. Shelton liked certainty and order in his life, even though he didn't often find it in his profession. He knew from hearing the Gardiners tell of the accident involving their niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, that he wasn't going to get a lot of certainty and order with this patient. He tried to draw the strands of their story together in his mind, but in reality he had very little idea of what to expect on his arrival at Mr. Darcy's estate. The Gardiners had been in such a rush to fetch him after the accident that they could give him very little information about their niece's condition. And although they couldn't say it in so many words, they didn't even know if it was worth it for Dr. Shelton to be making this trip with them.

He read between the lines of their strained faces and barely-controlled voices the fact that they had left in such a hurry that they were completely unaware of whether or not their niece had survived her fall. Knowing that this was one of the most distressing aspects of their present situation, Dr. Shelton tried to provide as much comfort and assurance as possible to these strangers he had been thrown together with so suddenly. Eventually, however, the three occupants of the carriage fell into a thick, weighty silence. Dr. Shelton's heart was caught up in the knowledge that he would do anything required for anyone even remotely connected with Pemberley. He just hoped the medical knowledge in his mind would be enough to match the resolve in his heart. The Gardiners simply sat with their hands tightly clasped together, forming once again the bond that was still so steady and strong and vibrant after all their years of marriage. In their minds they sent all their positive thoughts and prayers to Elizabeth across the miles that separated them, trying not to let their thoughts dwell on what they might find on their arrival.

No more caution, no more walking his horse along at a snail's pace, unfortunately no more than a passing thought now as to whether or not he was further injuring Elizabeth; Darcy simply kicked into the sides of his bewildered horse with all his might and decided to sprint the rest of the short distance from the outer boundary of Pemberley to the main house. Recent events had cast all other considerations aside, and he focused on the one that was most important. He had to get her to the doctor.

Just a short while ago, he had helplessly clasped his beloved to himself as she had taken a journey to the brink and back again, and it had shaken him beyond measure, beyond description. Darcy was really unsure of how any human being could survive the continual soarings and divings his emotions had undergone in just the past few hours. The contradictions of the situation were boggling his mind. She had reappeared in his life again, but he had almost lost her forever. She was so close to him physically, her body cradled against his as he galloped with her across the countryside, but her mind was in a place he couldn't reach, couldn't pull her back out. This encounter with the ultimate pain of seeing his dearest Elizabeth in such a condition and being completely helpless to heal her had finally managed to bring forth tears from his eyes. They were freely flowing now, nearly blinding him as he pushed his horse to the limits of endurance.

They finally came up over the hill that brought the lake, the gardens, and the great house into view. The frantic nature and bone-crushing pace of the man and woman on the horse seemed out of place with the surroundings of Pemberley, which seemed peaceful and unchanging. The lake still supported its bounty of fish, the flowers were in the full splendor of their summer blooms, and the house rose up from the landscape with all the majesty it had when it had been built many generations ago. These images flowed into Darcy's system as the horse hit the gravel drive up to the main entrance of the house.

When they reached it, Darcy yanked on the reins and didn't even bother to wipe the tears from his eyes and face. He wished with all the strength left in his soul that this place he loved above all others would be able to inject its lifeblood and spirit into the woman he loved above all others. Otherwise, Pemberley would now and forevermore be a place of unbearable sorrow, to which he would never be able to return.

The Gardiner's carriage came around a large grove of trees, revealing the lake glistening in the late-day sun and the magnificent structure formed of stone and glass and iron. A lifetime ago, or a time that seemed that long ago, the Gardiners had pictured themselves coming along this drive with Elizabeth, experiencing her enjoyment of the grounds and happily situated house right along with her. Now, however, as the carriage wheels passed over the road that Mr. Darcy had just traveled with their niece some minutes before, they did not know whether this place would hold enjoyment and happiness or grief and sorrow.

Mrs. Gardiner could not turn her mind off, could not forget the last fateful words she had shouted to Elizabeth before she watched her disappear over the edge of the peak. The words played in her head, over and over again, like a doomsday prophecy:

Elizabeth, be careful! How could I face your father if you took a fall?

Now, that awful meeting with Mr. Bennet would have to take place, but Mrs. Gardiner battled with herself to not think about it until she knew what news she would have to deliver to him; the bad news, or the worst news a parent could ever hear.

Chapter 8

Out of all the gardeners, cooks, maids, stable-hands, and myriad other categories of servants that made Pemberley run on a daily basis, none was more important to the smooth sailing at the estate than the main housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds. Most were unsure about exactly how long Mrs. Reynolds had been at Pemberley; she had been there at least since the current master of Pemberley was a child. There were two undisputed facts that governed life at Pemberley: Mr. Darcy was the master, but Mrs. Reynolds ruled the roost. She oversaw all the tiny details of running the massive estate on a day-to-day basis, and had even more responsibilities during Mr. Darcy's extended absences. Since her master was expected home within the next forty-eight hours, she had been busily preparing everyone and everything to receive him properly. His rooms needed to be aired out, the closets and bedding had to be prepared, the library and sitting rooms needed dusting and polishing, the china and silverware had to be polished, the kitchen had to be stocked, the gardens had to be manicured, and the horses had to be groomed. There were countless things to be organized, conflicts to try to resolve, and laziness to combat in the midst of all this. Mrs. Reynolds did it all with the commitment, leadership, and unquestioned authority of the best admiral or general in the service of His Majesty.

Mrs. Reynolds was spending her late summer afternoon trying to explain to one of the maids for what seemed like the tenth time that one needed to move the papers off the desk in the library before dusting and polishing it. She was gentle, but firm, and she sent the young girl off again to see if she could get it right before the master got home. Heading for the kitchen to check on the menu for the next week's meals, Mrs. Reynolds heard a great commotion at the front entrance. Her first thought, of course, was Oh, no! The master came back early! I hope at least that the bedrooms are ready for him! She walked swiftly out into the main hallway to greet her master. She was eager to see him again because she really had a great deal of affection for the boy she had watched through the years as he had become a fine young man. Yet, no amount of experience, training, or preparation could have prepared Mrs. Reynolds for what she saw.

Mr. Darcy dismounted his horse, taking Elizabeth down off the horse with him. He had one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees, holding her tightly against his own body as the attendant at the front entrance ran up to tend to the horse. He shouted at the young servant, more brusquely than he would have under normal circumstances, "Get that horse to the stable quickly! Has any carriage arrived yet carrying Dr. Shelton?"

Once he heard the boy's stammering reply that no carriage had come that day, Darcy turned and strode through the entrance to the house. To the very next servant he saw, Darcy yelled, "Go up to my rooms and prepare the bed immediately for Miss Bennet. Light a fire and bring extra pillows and blankets. And when Dr. Shelton arrives, send him up IMMEDIATELY!"

Mrs. Reynolds approached him with a perplexed and concerned look on her face, but she knew her master. She knew that he would explain what was going on and who this woman was that wasn't Miss Georgianna. She could also tell that he had been crying and wisely knew that it was not her place to comment on it. He did not break his stride for an instant as he headed towards the stairs, so she simply fell into step beside him.

Darcy felt as though an anvil was removed from his neck as soon as he saw the reliable and immensely capable Mrs. Reynolds. She would help relieve some of his burdens and would give Elizabeth all the assistance that was in her power to give. Perhaps most importantly, she would not ask any unnecessary questions about the nature of his relationship with Elizabeth. He realized that she was waiting for him to explain the remarkable scene she had walked into, and he began, "This is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, an acquaintance of mine from my time in Hertfordshire. She took a fall at the peaks and she is injured, I think rather seriously. I sent a man and woman whom I saw on the peak ahead to Lambton to fetch Dr. Shelton for her, and hopefully they should be arriving soon. I know you have probably not been preparing very many of the other rooms, so I will take her to my rooms. Come with me and help me get her comfortably situated, and please make sure everything in the room is prepared for her convalescence. She may be with us for some time."

By the time Darcy had given her all the necessary instructions, they reached his bedroom. He moved quickly to the bed, and then paused. Ever since he had picked her up and carried her onto his horse, Darcy had never once let go of Elizabeth, and now he found himself very reluctant to do so. He hadn't realized until that moment standing next to his bed that the physical contact with her had become so vital to him since the accident. He believed that the physical link was not only a part of what was keeping her with him, but that it was also a part of what was keeping him sane. Her warmth, her breath, the beating of her heart; they were all helping to keep him hanging on to hope.

From behind him, he heard Mrs. Reynolds trying to call him back into reality: "Sir?"

It was time. He gathered his courage, took a deep breath, and gently laid Elizabeth down on the bed…his bed,. Backing away to let Mrs. Reynolds and the other servants do some work to get her comfortable, Darcy was struck by the surreal nature of the scene. When all the servants except Mrs. Reynolds had completed their tasks, Darcy took a chair from nearby, pulled it up beside the bed, and resumed his physical contact with Elizabeth by taking her hand in both of his. His eyes were fixed on her still unmoving form as he waited for the salvation he hoped Dr. Shelton was bringing to them.

Chapter 9

Mrs. Reynolds was many things, to many people, but one thing she was not…stupid. Like her master, she too was struck with the sadness of the plight of the young woman who had come under the protection of Pemberley's roof, but she recognized within the first few minutes of her involvement in the situation that it was something more for Mr. Darcy. He was somehow more invested in this situation, in this woman, than he would have been with just any ordinary "acquaintance from Hertfordshire," as he had put it. Had Mrs. Reynolds been at liberty to speak of it (which she was not, of course), she would have described Mr. Darcy as presently existing within a sort of bubble. Even though she was trying to assist him as much as possible as she moved around the room making Miss Elizabeth Bennet comfortable in her new surroundings, Mrs. Reynolds knew that she herself was not within the bubble. No, there were only two in the bubble, or the haze her master was moving through; himself and Miss Bennet.

He had not stopped looking at her, had barely stopped touching her somehow since he came through the front door. His mind was most definitely absorbed in her and her present distress. Mr. Darcy was a man known far and wide for his focus and determination, and no one knew these parts of his personality better than Mrs. Reynolds. In his dealings with all his tenants and servants, he knew his course and steered it with a single-mindedness of purpose that truly reached into every facet of his life and the life of Pemberley. But even in all her interactions with Mr. Darcy over the years, all the things she had heard about his dealings with others, she had never been so aware of this part of him as she was in this moment. His mind, his strength, his entire being seemed tuned in to Miss Bennet and her alone. All these observations served to strengthen Mrs. Reynolds' intuition that at least for Mr. Darcy, there was more than the sentiment of mere acquaintance guiding his feelings and actions. She also got the sense that the only thing that could possibly penetrate the fog was the arrival of Dr. Shelton, and she prayed for all their sakes that he would be carried on the wings of angels to get to them.

How long had it been? How long had they been in the carriage? How long was it since they had left Lizzy? How long since they had found Dr. Shelton?

All sense of time seemed lost for the Gardiners, who were both trying to keep their focus on what they would learn of their niece in the next few minutes, not on all the uncertainty of the past few hours. Like them, Dr. Shelton seemed poised and ready to burst forth from the carriage as soon as it pulled to a stop outside Pemberley, which it was ready to do very shortly. He too was ready to lay to rest all the uncertainty of their situation and finally know what, if anything was to be done for his patient.

For the first time in a very long time, a voice was heard inside the carriage, and Dr. Shelton said to the Gardiners, "I will lead the way once we get into the house. Mr. Darcy and your niece are most likely already here, and the servants will know exactly where we are needed. I will make a quick but thorough examination of your niece, so that you may at once compose an express to be sent to the rest of her family."

As Dr. Shelton expected, the Gardiners responded by doing their best to smile, expressing their gratitude in weak but heartfelt voices, and then falling back into silence. The three hearts and mind in the carriage were all distinctly aware of the possibilities of what awaited them beyond the grand entrance, but none of them knew if they were ready to deal with them. Too late. The driver of the carriage finally gave a tug to pull the horses to a stop, and the doorman at Pemberley knew that he had never seen three people get themselves out of a carriage in quite so great a hurry.

Darcy felt himself slowly going crazy. His mind kept bouncing to random thoughts about Elizabeth. He thought of the irony of sitting here in his room at Pemberley with her in his bed, a place where she would have already been for many months if she had accepted his offer of marriage at Hunsford. He thought of how horrible it was that it had taken her being on the brink of death to finally get her close to him again. Now, if she could but be made well again, he told himself he would not care if she were on the other side of the world. It was a nice thought anyway, even if it wasn't completely true. He marveled that in these circumstances, but in no others, could he do away with social convention and hold hands with a woman to which he wasn't even engaged.

Darcy wasn't sure at this point what he would do if someone tried to question his holding her hand. He felt himself going crazy, but he didn't think he had enough energy to lash out at anyone. He would most likely just stay silent, stare, and keep his grip just the way it was right now. His agony deepened with every tick of the clock on the mantel in his room. Every moment Dr. Shelton wasn't there. Every moment she lay there with no movement, not even a twitch of her eyelids. Every moment that he lived with the horror of remembering her breathing coming to a halt. Knowing that with every tick, his bed could become her death bed.

These thoughts, and that incessant ticking of the clock, were slowly but surely driving him mad. He finally heard another sound besides that damned clock -- it was movement outside the door! In another second, he released his breath (not even realizing that he had been holding it) and saw Mrs. Reynolds, the man and woman from the peak, and the second most beloved face in the world to him at that moment, Dr. Shelton.

Chapter 10

Posted on Wednesday, 4 October 2006

Dr. Shelton did not claim to be an expert on human behavior and personalities. That was not his specialty. He was a medical doctor; he could fix people's bodies (generally speaking) but he would never claim to know what made people tick emotionally. Even so, he was truly gifted in the study of human emotions that best suited his profession. He understood grief and joy, the highs and lows, the hope of good news and the despair of bad. These he could read in an instant, and he knew all their degrees and variations.

As he entered the room, he should have been focused on the task at hand. He should have been focused on his patient, especially after all the uncertainty of the carriage ride that had just ended. He should have been focused on providing some kind of information, possibly some relief to the Gardiners as soon as possible. Even though he knew all this to be true, as soon as he stepped into Mr. Darcy's bedroom his progress was arrested at the sight of his benefactor's son. The force and the weight of the scene he had walked into almost robbed him of breath, made him feel like he had been physically punched in the stomach. Pain, despair, longing, hope; all of them hung so heavily in the tastefully lavish bedroom that Dr. Shelton felt like he could reach out and grasp them in his hands. This was coupled with the crushing weight of responsibility he felt as he looked from Mr. Darcy to the Gardiners and back again.

Dr. Shelton could tell that Darcy tried to compose himself as the party entered, but as he continued to grip Miss Bennet's hand his eyes locked and sent a silent but powerful plea to Dr. Shelton: "You must save her. Use all your skill and more if you must, call upon the experts of your profession and the legions of heaven, spare no expense or effort. You MUST save her."

When he looked back to the Gardiners, their eyes held similar messages: "This girl is as dear to us as one of our own children. On behalf of her parents and ourselves, we are entrusting her to your care. Please do not let our trust be misplaced. We are counting on the help of strangers to see our family through this."

Dr. Shelton squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment to try to shore himself up for what was to come. The emotions of the sickroom had never shown themselves so plainly as they did in this room, at this moment. But Dr. Shelton knew from experience that along with the weight of responsibility came the possibility of an even more crushing blow; the impotence and helplessness of the times when all his medical knowledge could do nothing to help. "Let that not be the case this time! he pleaded silently."

He finally willed himself to step forward and address Mr. Darcy by saying, "Sir, we arrived as soon as we could. This is Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner. They are Miss Bennet's aunt and uncle who were traveling with her from Hertfordshire. They have given me as much information as they had about what happened, but it would be vastly helpful to me and to Miss Bennet if you can give me all the details of her condition since you first found her."

As all attention in the room turned to the motionless woman on the bed, Edward Shelton marveled at all he had seen so far and wondered if Elizabeth Bennet had any concept of how much she was loved?

For all that Dr. Shelton knew about the ebb and flow of emotions in a sickroom, the Gardiners were learning as they went along. They were also struck by the melancholy of seeing their niece lying practically lifeless in the bed that seemed to dwarf her. But they were unprepared for the waves of shock and relief they would experience in such rapid succession as they listened in amazement to Mr. Darcy's account of everything that had occurred with Lizzy since they had left her with him. They admired his attempts to carry her and ride with her carefully as he began the tale.

Mr. Gardiner especially felt connected to the young man as one of sound judgment and good upbringing. Both of the Gardiners gasped in astonishment and horror when they heard that Lizzy had stopped breathing for a short while. They saw the unveiled look of concern this information caused in Dr. Shelton's features, and Mr. Darcy seemed to be almost wincing as he relived those agonizing moments. Since their niece was, they now knew, still alive at this moment, their hearts filled with gratitude to God and to all the successive efforts of Mr. Darcy to preserve and protect their niece. There was no scolding, no concern, only complete understanding and applause for Mr. Darcy's decision to ride quickly the rest of the way to get Elizabeth to Pemberley.

Mr. Gardiner knew he would have reacted the same way; Mrs. Gardiner knew that it was what Mr. Bennet would have wished if he were here. Finally, they knew all that had transpired from the moment they had first seen Mr. Darcy on the peaks through all the anxious moments on their way to Lambton to find Dr. Shelton and beyond to their carriage ride to Pemberley. Of course, they did not yet know, could not possibly know all that had transpired; those whisperings, those words of love and longing and pleading were left between the man who was rapidly earning their trust and the niece they had known her whole life. Both the Gardiners were very astute, quick-minded people, but they were so caught up in Dr. Shelton getting started in his examination of Lizzy that they missed some of the obvious signs of the total loving surrender of Mr. Darcy to their niece.

Their first opportunity to speak one-on-one with him was coming, however; Dr. Shelton asked them all to step out of the room so he could have absolute concentration until his examination was complete. No one wanted him to miss anything, so they readily agreed, and the three all turned and stole a look at Elizabeth on their way out the door.

At no point until he stepped outside that door had Darcy experienced the emotions of the sickroom as an outsider. He had been immersed in them, so wrapped up in them that he had almost failed to notice their existence. His own turmoil was within; he didn't see how it flowed and spread outward to permeate every corner of the room. Somehow he had made it through the telling of his experiences with Elizabeth on that ride across Derbyshire with composure and respectability.

As soon as he knew that the two strangers he had sent after Dr. Shelton on the peaks were Elizabeth's uncle and aunt, he had made a concerted effort to be strong for their sakes. He could not imagine what he would have suffered over all those miles and all that time being separated from Elizabeth and not knowing how she was doing. It was almost worse than the story he told, because at least he could be with her. If those horrible moments that had made the Gardiners gasp when he told of them, had been Elizabeth's last moments on this Earth, at least he would have been the last human contact she had. At least he had been able to hold her and talk to her and tell her all the hows and whys and ins and outs of his love for her. Even in the midst of his turmoil and grief, Darcy could not be selfish, and his heart went out to them for all the uncertainty and anguish they must have experienced since Elizabeth's accident.

He didn't care about their connections, or where they lived, or what Mr. Gardiner did for a living. He knew they loved Elizabeth, just as he did, and he somehow sensed that he would like to earn these people's respect and confidence. So even though he hated to leave her, he managed to pull himself the farthest distance from Elizabeth he had been since the accident to try to provide some accommodation and comfort for her relatives.

Chapter 11

"I wish I had the power to look inside you. I wish I could somehow unlock the secrets that your injured body is hiding from me. I came here to try to relieve the uncertainty of your relatives and Mr. Darcy. Now, I don't know if I will be doing anything but giving them more uncertainty. This is the great failing of my profession, I'm afraid. Sometimes we just have to wait for the patient to show us what the outcome will be, and that's what it seems we'll have to do with you, Miss Bennet."

Heaving a great, frustrated, exhausted sigh, Dr. Shelton pushed from his knee off the bed and stood on the floor in Mr. Darcy's bedroom. He had tried to be thorough, but at the same time rapid in his examination of Elizabeth Bennet. He had a good sense of what the people on the other side of the door were experiencing, and he didn't want to leave them in suspense any longer than was necessary. But while he should have been striding out the door to deliver his report on Miss Bennet's prognosis, he paused next to the bed and looked at his patient again. He somehow felt the need to do his own bit of pleading with her before he went to talk to those outside. Thus he sent her his thoughts again:

"I may be the doctor here, Miss Bennet, but in some way this is in your hands now. I know we have never met before, but I can already tell some things about you by how important you are to those three people standing in the hallway. I will do everything I can, and they will be here encouraging you and helping you as well, but you have to help us. You have to do your part to come back to these people who love you. Don't quit this life just yet, Miss Bennet. You are so young, and you have so much ahead of you. Don't give up on them!"

He sighed again; it came as a natural reaction to the whole situation, even more so now than at any other time he had to give less-than-wonderful news. Trying to prepare himself mentally to deliver both the optimism and the realism of Miss Bennet's condition, he turned away from her and began moving towards the majestic English oak door with the sculpted knob.

"I wish I had the power to look inside you. I wish I had the ability to read your thoughts while you pace back and forth so incessantly that a hole is beginning to appear in your flooring. I know that you are acquainted with Lizzy, but that doesn't explain your behavior. By all accounts you are supposed to be cold, distant, untouched by situations like this one. But it is completely obvious to anyone with eyes that you are almost jumping out of your skin to find out what is going on behind that door. What is in your head, Mr. Darcy? Or maybe the question should be, what is in your heart?"

Mrs. Gardiner's gaze bounced between three spots; Mr. Darcy, her husband, and the doorknob. The three who had been banished spoke very little now as the minutes grew longer while they waited for Dr. Shelton to reappear, though they had conversed a little bit at the beginning.

"Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, though of course I wish it could be under happier circumstances than those we face at present. I wasn't aware of your connection to Eliz…er, Miss Bennet when I saw you on the peaks, and I apologize for separating you from her for so long. You will, of course, be completely welcome at Pemberley for as long as your niece is recovering."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. We are equally pleased to meet you, sir. Do not concern yourself about sending us for Dr. Shelton; the plan was the most efficient one possible, which under the circumstances was a great relief. Your hospitality is most appreciated. We could stay in the rooms we reserved at the Inn at Lambton if we are too much trouble to you, however."

"Not at all, madam. My utmost concern is Miss Bennet's comfort, and she will be more at ease if you are nearby at all times. And you would not like to be so distant from her again, I think?"

"You are correct in that, Mr. Darcy. Lizzy is as dear to us as any of our own children, and we will stay for as long as she needs us."

"I understand completely, Mrs. Gardiner. Yes, I fully understand your desire to stay close to her."

The contents of that conversation, and the present waiting and watching, were stirring interesting musings in Mrs. Gardiner's sharp mind. Obviously her mind was primarily concerned with her niece's condition, but with Mr. Darcy before her now, she couldn't help but draw some conclusions.

First, she was sure that Lizzy had not told them everything about her connection with Mr. Darcy. There was something major in their previous history that Lizzy had left out in all her communications about this man. According to what she knew, Mrs. Gardiner had believed Mr. Darcy to be cold and indifferent to her niece after his treatment of her in Hertfordshire and his previous behavior to Wickham. These ideas did not seem to mesh at all with the man who stood, or rather paced, outside his bedroom door at present. He had almost called her Elizabeth, but stopped himself. His voice had been full of strain and meaning when he spoke of her, and his eyes seemed to be trying to bore through the door and walls into the room where Elizabeth lay. He almost behaved...like a husband.

That was it! Mrs. Gardiner had to stop her hand from flying up to her mouth as the events of a few short minutes ago came back in total recall. She had been so caught up in seeing Lizzy that she hadn't noticed right away what Mr. Darcy was doing when they entered the room. But now, in the waiting, in the chasm between the three outside the room and the two inside it, while the thoughts had a chance to wander in an attempt to distract from the enormity of the situation, Mrs. Gardiner locked on a picture in her brain. The picture, which was so clear it was like seeing it live, was of a pair of clasped hands, one limp and lifeless, the other gripping as if trying to pass its life to the one it held. Mr. Darcy had been holding Lizzy's hand, with no one else in the room.

"Could it be? Could it be that this incredibly proud man had lost his heart to their niece? That his coldness had been an attempt to shield himself from the possibility of feeling anything for her?" The sound of footsteps approaching from the other side of the door held these thoughts frozen for now, as all attention again shifted to what was happening to Lizzy.

"I wish I had the power to look inside you. I wish I knew what you were going to say before you said it, so I could prepare my heart for the surge of joy or the crash of despair. What do you know about her? What were you able to discover? Is my treasure, my most beloved coming back to me, or is she lost to me forever? I do not even know if I will be able to hear that from you if indeed that message is coming. I will not be able to hold vigil and have to watch her slip slowly but surely away from me. I would go too, just as slowly perhaps but just as surely. Please, Dr. Shelton, take pity on me, on us, and do not leave us in suspense any longer! You hold two lives in the balance; hers and mine."

Through Darcy's sickening worry was seeping anger and impatience. He wished he could give the Gardiners more comfort and reassurance, but he just couldn't understand what was taking so long! His sense of time was completely warped, of course, but that didn't make it any less real to him. His conversation with Elizabeth's aunt and uncle had pleased him, though (as much as anything but seeing Lizzy awake and well could do for him).

They truly were very well-mannered, genteel people, and he would do his best to make sure they were well taken care of while under Pemberley's roof. If taking care of them was all he could do to help Elizabeth, he would do it with all the love and care he had. He wished it didn't have to be in these circumstances, but even now it seemed right to him that Elizabeth should be under his roof, under the wings of his care and protection. He wanted nothing more than to be able to provide for her every need, to keep her safe and make her feel protected and loved. He would do it for the rest of their lives, if only she would let him. And if only God would let her live.

When the door finally opened, revealing the weary face and drooped shoulders of Dr. Shelton, Darcy slammed to a stop in his pacing and turned to face the verdict. Dr. Shelton looked to all three of them and said, "I have examined her as thoroughly as I can. The major problem is the injury to her head. She has no other injuries other than some scrapes and bruises, but the knocks to her head she took in the fall cannot be overlooked. Fortunately, she is young and in good health otherwise, and there is a very good chance that she will wake up and recover fully. However, there is no telling when that may happen, and there is a chance that she will not wake up at all. There is nothing I or anyone else can do except make her as comfortable as possible and wait to see how her body responds."

Chapter 12

It hadn't helped at all, not one bit. She would be alright…maybe. She would wake up…possibly. She would return to him and he would finally have a chance to win her heart…if all went well? But it might not?"

The waiting, the tearing at his soul, the tug of despair and the glow of hope, would continue until Elizabeth gave her own verdict on her fate. Hers would be the decisive one, much more so than the one Dr. Shelton had just delivered. Darcy knew that Dr. Shelton was the best; his father had trusted him, and that was enough to convince Darcy that his Elizabeth was in the best possible hands. He also knew that he couldn't help the frustration and helplessness that boiled up anew inside him as soon as he heard Dr. Shelton proclaim that all he could do, all anyone could do was wait.

"And what am I waiting for, Darcy thought in agony. Waiting to see when she will finally be taken from me for good? Waiting to be just another mourner at her funeral, but one whose pain runs deeper than anyone else could fathom? Waiting for a part of my very heart and soul to be ripped from my body for the rest of my life? Waiting until I will see her take her last, slow breath, but knowing that unlike the last time she will not be restored to me?"

He let his mind reach into all these deep, dark places, knowing he was pushing himself over the edge with these thoughts, until the movement and words of the others in the hallway slapped him harshly back into the moment. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, doing an admirable job of holding themselves together, were thanking Dr. Shelton for all of his assistance, and he was giving them his assurances that he would be staying at Pemberley until their niece was out of the woods.

Then Mrs. Gardiner turned to face Mr. Darcy, and the anguish in both their eyes touched something deep in the other, and they spoke volumes to each other without saying a word. To Mrs. Gardiner, the look in the young man's eyes told her everything she needed to know about his feelings for her niece. All her previous speculation and suspicions were instantly confirmed. His love for Lizzy was so raw and exposed in that moment that it was like a sign across his forehead, proclaiming his love to all those observant enough to read the sign.

To Darcy, he saw her love for her niece, but also her knowledge of the pitiful situation of his own heart, that it would forever rest with the woman laying in the next room. Her face softened, her eyes sent him a look of understanding, and he knew he had an ally. With her gentle voice, Mrs. Gardiner addressed him with a very important and necessary request: "Mr. Darcy, we obviously want to go in and check on Lizzy, but we also feel the need to get word as soon as possible to all the family at Longbourn about what has happened to her. Mr. Bennet especially will want to come here as quickly as possible. Could you please direct my husband and me to a place where we could draft an express to Longbourn? We would also appreciate your assistance in getting it sent out immediately."

"Of course!" Darcy had not even thought before about Elizabeth's parents and her sisters, that they knew nothing at present about what had occurred on the peaks hours before. Mentally kicking himself for not having taken charge of this detail himself, he responded, "Indeed, her family should be informed at once. Come with me to my library, I have all the necessary materials. When you have finished it, ring the bell for Mrs. Reynolds and she will take your express to my own personal courier and send him on his way to Longbourn this very hour. While you are composing the express, I will make sure that everything is being made ready for your stay. I will also prepare more rooms for the arrival of Mr. Bennet and any of the rest of the family that makes the journey with him.

Mrs. Reynolds will bring you back up to Miss Bennet whenever you are ready to see her." Gesturing for them to follow him down the hallway and back to the first floor library, Darcy turned back and nodded to Dr. Shelton. With unspoken communication, the doctor knew this was a direction to go back in and watch over Miss Bennet until either Darcy or the Gardiners could return. Dr. Shelton stepped back inside the room where Elizabeth still lay. Darcy continued down the hall with the Gardiners, his thoughts were suddenly flooded with memories and thoughts of everything he loved about Elizabeth.

She hadn't backed down from him that first night in Hertfordshire when he had refused to dance with her at the assembly rooms. She had held her head high and laughingly challenged and mocked him with her eyes and her whispered comments to her friend Miss Lucas. She had met him with that same steady gaze when he ran into her unexpectedly outside Netherfield when she had come to nurse her sister Jane. Even with her soiled clothes (the ones Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst could not stop exclaiming over later), the brightness of her eyes and her obvious concern for her sister had struck something new and powerful in him.

When she had breezed past him towards the house, the flip of her glorious hair and her lightly flowering and alluring scent had made him trail along after her for a few seconds like a lovesick puppy. He wouldn't have admitted it to himself at the time, of course, but throughout her days at Netherfield he felt himself being slowly drawn to her with thousands of tiny strings. When he saw her out the window playing keep away with one of the dogs, her light and playful spirit made him feel more alive and vital even from a distance.

When she and Jane had left Netherfield, he felt relieved, but strangely bereft at the same time. He missed seeing her, missed the challenging sparkle in her eyes when they would exchange their lively banter. But he thought hopefully that her absence would purge him of his growing regard for her. It was still a battle for him at that point, a battle between the wonder of her and all his better judgment.

But when he saw her again at Hunsford, nothing had changed. It was then that the wonder of her began to win the battle over his better judgment, sealed in the moment of his fateful proposal at the parsonage house. After her crushing refusal and the attempt to defend himself with the letter, the battle had ended. From that point on, he was a completely lost man. He realized how right she had been in her criticisms of his character, how in need of reform he was. How unique and amazing she was among women. He was wretched without her, and no longer had any hope of being with her.

Again, Darcy thoughts wandered back to Elizabeth with a pained smile as he escorted the Gardiners into his library and got them settled. "What am I waiting for? I am waiting for the only woman in the world worth having, the only woman I want to share my life with, the one my heart belongs to for now and for always. Let her come back to me, Lord, he prayed, for she is so indescribably worth the wait.

Chapter 13

Posted on Sunday, 8 October 2006

He couldn't stay away. He had seen to his responsibilities, made sure everything was in order for the Gardiners and any of the Bennets who would arrive later. They were under his roof, under his care, just as she was, and he wouldn't dream of neglecting them. But having seen to all that, he just couldn't stay away. He was drawn back towards her presence almost without thinking, like a famished man following the aroma of a feast. He let his feet carry him back up the stairs along the familiar route to his rooms where he had left Dr. Shelton waiting with Elizabeth.

Dr. Shelton. Darcy was grateful for his presence in case anything should happen, but now, on the threshold of his door, he was regretting the doctor's interference. He wanted to be alone with her again, just as he had been before they had all arrived. He knew Dr. Shelton might find it improper, he knew the Gardiners might find it improper, he knew his staff might find it improper. And for some reason, at that moment, it made him want to be alone with her all the more. He would find a way, even if it was only for a few minutes. He would find a way to let her know he was there, to remind her again that she was safe and sheltered and loved and right where she belonged. And miraculously, for one of the first times all day, fate smiled on his secret wishes.

As he was turning the doorknob to enter the room where she still lay, he almost ran into Dr. Shelton, who was stepping out into the hallway at the same instant. Both men jumped back slightly, and Dr. Shelton spoke first: "Excuse me, Mr. Darcy. I am glad you have returned. I have a request to make of you, and I know you may think it improper, but under the circumstances, I hope you will understand. I have been caring for old Mrs. Watson in the village almost day and night for the last week, and that combined with the frantic journey today has left me hungry and exhausted. I want to be able to give Miss Bennet the best possible care, but I caught myself dozing off more than once while sitting with her just now. I will be much more useful to everyone if I can have some refreshments and rest, and I was just going to look for someone else to sit with Miss Bennet until the Gardiners are done composing their express to her family. Since you are here, may I ask you to take over for a while? I will not go far, I promise, and you can wake me at once if anything changes in her condition. I know that Miss Bennet is a single young woman, but... "

"It is quite all right, Dr. Shelton. You are totally justified in your desire for rest, and your concern for Miss Bennet's reputation is admirable. However, you are also correct in saying that under the circumstances, my staying with her alone will not be frowned upon. It is my duty as the master of Pemberley to care for all those who fall into my circle, which now includes Miss Bennet, her relatives and of course yourself. Your room while you are here is the last door in this hallway on the left, and you can ring for a tray and anything else you need as soon as you get there. The staff has been given strict instructions to be attentive to you while you are aiding Miss Bennet in her recovery."

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Darcy. Your hospitality is much appreciated, and you have laid my fears to rest. Miss Bennet will remain in the best possible hands at all times until she is fully recovered. That is the only way it should be."

"I could not agree more, Dr. Shelton."

Dr. Shelton turned and walked down the hallway to his room. Even under the circumstances of Elizabeth's present condition, Darcy's heart sang at the golden opportunity laid at his feet. He turned to enter the room, intending to use his time to the fullest.

Elizabeth was still clawing, still fighting, and still trying to find her way out of the darkness of the pit. She was determined; she would make a way for herself. It was going slowly, slowly, and she still got tired so easily. She had stopped again for another rest, conserving whatever strength she had. It wasn't as easy to keep going when she couldn't sense him there at the top, waiting for her. His presence, whoever he was, had helped pull her back when she was ready to quit. He was her promise. She had a promise that he would be worth it when she made it to the top of the pit. Through the mist, through the darkness, through all the distance, she suddenly heard him again. He was back!

She lifted up her head and strained to hear his words, but she could never quite make them out exactly. She got the idea, though. He was back to urge her on, to encourage her, to hold out in front of her all the wonderful things that were waiting for her at the top. There was still something so familiar about that voice, but she couldn't strain herself trying to figure out the mystery. She pulled herself back to her feet in the pit and went back to work on finding that way out. She would find it. She would. After all, she thought to herself, her promise was waiting.

Darcy pulled up the chair, again. He clasped her hand in both of his, again. It was almost a replay of his position not so long ago. He took a deep breath and began, "I do not know if you can hear me, dearest Elizabeth, but somehow I think you can. I am here. I am here, my love, and nothing could drag me away until you are well. I did not think it was possible at the start of this day, but I love you infinitely more now than I did this morning. This day has revealed to me how irreplaceable you are, that there could never be another to hold your place in my heart or my home. It is right that you are here, my beloved."

"I wish you would wake up so I could show you the house and the grounds, so I could see your eyes light up at all the wonders of this place. You will love it, I know you will. I wish I could be so certain that you could come to love me. Did you ever read my letter? Has it done anything to change your opinion of me? If I could but show you how you have changed me, Elizabeth! How I have endeavored to make myself worthy of the you, the very best of women. Come back to us, my love, come back to me, and let me shower my love on you. Let me try to win your heart as you have so completely won mine. Let me take care of you here in this place, not just now but for always. I miss your smile. I miss your eyes and that sparkle that dances and teases and tempts me. I miss your voice that always sounds like music to me. I miss you, I have missed you for months. There is a void that was left in my soul when you refused me that day, and you are the only one who can fill it. But that can never happen if you leave me now. Please Elizabeth…please do not leave me. You are the joy of my heart, and there will never be any joy again if you are gone. Fight your way back, my love. I am waiting for you."

Chapter 14

Dusk was falling. The servants were scurrying around Pemberley lighting it up for the summer's eve, taking special care in the library not to disturb the Gardiners. Their task was an urgent, but heavy one, and they were trying to compose an express that would provide the necessary facts about Elizabeth's accident but not be too harsh or blunt. Trying to communicate all the nuances of Dr. Shelton's diagnosis in just a few lines was made easier by the fact that it was family writing to family; but it was still enough to leave the Gardiners even more emotionally exhausted than they had been even a short while earlier. Ultimately, they looked at each other and decided that the best way would be the most straightforward, and they were hastened on by the desire to return to Lizzie's bedside. Therefore, after night had fallen fully and sweetly across the Derbyshire countryside, the following express was rushed off to the Bennets at Longbourn:

My dear brother and family,

We bear you tidings that we never dreamed we would have to communicate at the beginning of this journey. Today, while walking on the peaks, Elizabeth took a fall. To our knowledge, she has not been awake since. The doctor has seen her and says that the injury is confined to her head, but it is uncertain when or if she will wake up. Mr. Darcy came upon us shortly after the accident, so we are all awaiting Elizabeth's recovery at Pemberley. We know that you will want to be near Elizabeth during this time, and Mr. Darcy assures us that any or all of you will be most welcome as soon as you may arrive here. We will remain, of course, by Elizabeth's side for as long as it takes, and Dr. Shelton has been wonderful so far. It is small comfort, we know, but let it sustain your spirits until you can be with her as well. Make haste, dear family; our Elizabeth needs us now more than ever! We will look for your arrival the day after tomorrow, or sooner still if you can manage it.

Yours, etc., The Gardiners

Wearily, with heavy hearts and tired bodies, the Gardiners climbed the stairs together once again. Evidently, there had been no great change in Lizzie's condition, or they would have been notified immediately. When they opened the door to Mr. Darcy's room, they expected to find Dr. Shelton waiting with Lizzy. What they saw instead should have sent some of their emotions and sensibilities tossing like leaves in a crisp autumn wind. Under normal circumstances, it would have. However, after a day such as this, after having one of their two favorite nieces on the brink of death and having to write a letter bearing news that no family should ever have to hear, very little could surprise or shock them.

The sight of Mr. Darcy ardently clasping Lizzie's hand for the second time that day, knowing that he was barely aware of their entrance into the room, for he was so intensely focused on her, did cause them both to pause in their tracks. But they did not gasp, did not call out, did not demand to know why their unmarried niece and this unmarried man were alone in a room together. With all the wisdom and love of a happily married couple, they simply looked at each other, and the message was as clear as the lake that shimmered in the moonlight outside the windows:

"Look at him, darling. His love for our Lizzy is almost like a physical presence in the room, it is so obvious! Who knows how this has come about, but feelings that strong in the face of such adversity demand respect. Let us give him just another moment, just to let him prepare himself to be apart from her again."

They clasped hands, smiled for the first time in hours, and slipped slowly and quietly back into the hallway, closing the door silently behind them. After a few minutes, they went into the room again. This time, they knocked first, and this time, almost nothing would have appeared amiss to the casual observer. Almost nothing...

Darcy had known it from the beginning. He had known his time alone with her would have to be short. Still, when that knock sounded, the one that signaled the return of the Gardiners and the end of his time alone with Elizabeth, it felt as if only seconds had passed since Dr. Shelton had left them alone. There was so much more to say, so much more to pour out of his heart that was only meant for her ears. Even if her ears were not capable of hearing all his whisperings, it was still worth it to say them. He had longed to do it for months, and knowing now that every opportunity available to him could be the last, he would waste none of them.

So when that knock sounded, before the door opened to reveal the Gardiners, he whispered quickly, "I will have to leave you now, my love. But even if I cannot speak to you, even if I cannot hold your hand, know that I am with you. A piece of my soul is in your keeping, so we can never truly be apart. May you pass a peaceful night, dearest Elizabeth, and may the rising sun bring you back to the world in the morning."

He released her hand, sat back in his chair, and prepared to leave for one of the guest rooms in his own home. He tried to prepare himself, however unsuccessful the attempt might have been to sleep. All the while very much aware that under the same roof – his beloved -- Elizabeth Bennet struggled not to fall into everlasting sleep. He left behind that piece of his soul, praying that it would survive the night with her.

Chapter 15

Darcy sat bolt upright in bed, his face a dripping mixture of sweat and tears. Bewildered for an instant about why he was sleeping in a strange bed in his own house, he lifted unsteady hands to rub his eyes. He must have slept, since he had been dreaming, but he really did not feel like he had. There was certainly no rest in the strange dreamlike state from which he had just roused himself. Not since his childhood had he recalled a dream so vividly; if he closed his eyes just for a moment he could still see it playing out in his mind. It was only three scenes, three scenes that just kept repeating themselves over and over again, filled with sweetness and torment, with ecstasy and agony. All three scenes, of course, were centered around her.

Even if she hadn't been fighting for her life under his very roof, right now, just down the hall, he would have still dreamed about her. He had been dreaming about her, during both his waking and sleeping moments, for months. The same emotions were wrapped up in those dreams as had just appeared in this one, the same thrills and despair all combined. On this night, those emotions were magnified a thousand-fold as everything that had transpired that day rolled itself into his dreams. On this night, the dreams had started with the ecstasy...

It was earlier that day, near the peaks in the radiant countryside of Derbyshire. Darcy recognized the county he called home, even though the edges were a little blurry. His majestic horse stood proudly beneath him, and there was not another creature in sight. The scene was peaceful, serene, and Darcy was as one with his surroundings. Elizabeth did not really walk into the scene, there was nothing so mundane or normal about her entrance. It was almost as if she was floating her way towards him, staying just above the lush green grass. The sunlight was radiating around her glorious hair, and the smile on her face was even more radiant still. Darcy was transfixed, held still and in awe of all the loveliness before him. She truly resembled an angel, sent from above to offer him a slice of heaven in this life. He remained motionless while she kept moving effortlessly forward, neither one of them saying a word. Words were completely unnecessary it seemed; they were both able to communicate everything they wanted to say with only their eyes.

When she finally reached him, she paused next to his horse and lifted her hand to him. Her request was instantly understood, and he placed his hand in hers, ready to pull her up onto the horse with him. Before complying, however, he could not resist brushing her hand with the most delicate of kisses, almost like the soft summer breeze that swirled around them. He had no trouble pulling her onto the back of his horse, and somehow their eyes still never left each other's. She reached up to cup his face with her hands, and both equally felt the irresistible need to taste the sweetness offered by the lips of the other. The moment came, and it was as if a bolt of lightning charged from the joining to course through both of their bodies. The very air around them seemed to explode with the power of it. When they finally pulled away, she sighed in contentment, wrapped her arms trustingly around his waist, leaned her head gently and sweetly against his back, and whispered simply, "Take me home, darling." He knew instinctively that she was not referring to Longbourn, but Pemberley, and the knowledge filled him with unspeakable joy. She was his. After all his waiting, she was his, and they rode off together into the mist, towards Pemberley and the rest of their lives.

As he recalled this part of the dream, Darcy smiled so completely that it took over his entire demeanor, so much so that no one who saw it would have believed this man to be the same cold, stern master of Pemberley they had heard so much about. The jolt from that kiss was almost reality to him, he had felt it so deeply. That enraptured smile slowly but steadily faded, however, he also recalled how the dream continued...

As they rode on, the next scene became darker, much more ominous. Where none had been there before, suddenly they were surrounded by an overgrown and threatening forest. The horse beneath them snorted, clearly spooked by the change in their surroundings. Elizabeth clung to him a bit tighter as Darcy tried to steer the horse through the thick growth. It was easy to become disoriented, and Darcy was having trouble remembering in which direction Pemberley lay. The peace and serenity of the previous scene had been replaced with anxiety and fear, and Darcy felt it acutely.

All his instincts warned him that something terrible was coming, that the worst was going to happen, but as he tried to keep the horse under control he was powerless to stop it. As often happens in dreams, the next moments played out in slow motion, seemingly meant to extend his torment. The trees surrounding them began to grow, to reach, and to stretch towards the horse and its two riders. He saw it coming, but he could still do nothing. He released the horse's reins and placed his hands over Elizabeth's, trying to keep her grasp tight around his waist. Somehow he knew the trees were not reaching for him, but for her, and the thought terrified him. They were getting closer as each slow-motion second passed, the branches so alive they almost seemed like human arms and hands.

Elizabeth did not cry out, did not scream when they finally reached her. Their dark tendrils wrapped around her like a shroud. When he turned to watch her as she was pulled away from him, she simply stared at him, and her look was filled with such profound sadness and sorrow that he was not so able to remain silent. The cry that rent from his lungs was the perfect sound to come from such a forest, for it sounded like nothing human. Indeed, the noise was like some other-worldly animal as her beloved face slowly faded from sight and was gone forever.

Still sitting up in his bed, Darcy reasoned that it was the repetition of this scene that must have caused the tears he discovered when he awakened. It made perfect sense that the utter anguish of this scene would have reached into his conscious self and caused the tears to flow. He would not have been entirely surprised if his crying out for her had translated into real life also and had awakened the entire household. Fortunately for him (and for them) it had not, and he was able to continue to ponder in solitude what the dream meant. And if he wanted to do that, he could not forget to include remembering that last scene...

Pemberley was no longer the proud, regal estate it had once been. There was no way of telling how many years had passed, but it was obviously not just a few. The gardens and grounds were overgrown and unkempt, and the house had been reduced to some small piles of stone. In the midst of all the deterioration sat a man who was deterioration personified. The once broad-shouldered man with the demeanor that had exuded high birth and social status now sat in the ruins hunched over and shabby, with no evidence of his former self. It was as if his entire life had literally crumbled around him, and yet he was still left behind to try to make an existence for himself in the rubble. There was only one thing in the scene that had not fallen into disrepair, only one thing that had survived the collapse of Darcy's life. It was his life's only purpose now to keep it looking beautiful at all costs. She would have wanted it that way. He had somehow succeeded in having her final resting place be there, with him, and he had had the shiny marble headstone designed especially for her. The fragrant plantings of lavender at the base of it were continual reminders of her distinctive scent. The headstone was exquisitely carved, with a simple three lines:

Until his own last breath was drawn, Darcy would never leave the spot. He would polish the marble until it gleamed in the sun, he would use his own clothing to protect it from the rain, he would tend to the lavender with gentleness and care. It was all he had left of her, and he would pamper it and love it just as he loved her -- still loved her, always.

The question could not help but be asked, though Darcy asked it reluctantly: "was his dream a premonition? Had all the ecstasy he would ever know with Elizabeth already passed, and was he now destined to watch her die and watch his life crumble around him?"

The thought made him want to fly down the hall and go to her side instantly, as though he could prevent it by just being physically present with her. He would hold on tighter this time. He would not let her be pulled out of his reach. He would not be left with only a headstone and some flowers and his memories of her. He fell back with a sigh against his pillows, and to his later amazement, drifted off to sleep once again.

This time, the scene had changed again. There was no agony or despair here, only joy and anticipation, the sweet anticipation of another dream that was coming true. This dream did not even seem blurry around the edges; it was as crystal clear as it could be. Darcy stood staring at the doors of Longbourn church, with his best friend Bingley beside him.

The minister stood off in the background, and friends and family filled the pews. The anticipation was palatable in the small church, decorated tastefully with dried flowers and anything that bloomed in winter. The dream turned to slow motion, this time to stretch out the magical moment when the doors finally flew open. The open doors revealed, in Darcy's thinking, the two most beautiful brides the world had ever seen. But even though Jane Bennet was generally acknowledged to be the prettiest of all the Bennet sisters, Darcy's eyes were on her for only a brief moment before they quickly sought out and found the second sister, his Elizabeth -- His bride.

He marveled at that, marveled at his good fortune that she had finally accepted him. He was amazed that she seemed to grow lovelier every time he saw her, and this day was certainly no exception. When their eyes met, the genuine smile on her face and the dancing sparkle in her eyes removed any doubts that she would change her mind before she reached the altar. This time, it was Darcy who felt like he was floating. It could not be more perfect. He and his best friend were both about to pledge their lives to the brides of their choice, brides who could not be better suited to them. When the clergyman would pronounce Elizabeth to be Mrs. Darcy, Darcy's heart would finally be made whole. He reached out to take her hand as she reached the end of the aisle. The ceremony was ready to begin...

In his sleep, the questioning thoughts came again: was this dream a premonition? Along with all the questions, even though the answers were still uncertain -- those bright and shining eyes along with that dazzling smile returned -- spreading across Darcy's face, too.

Chapter 16

Posted on Wednesday, 11 October 2006

Another beautiful English summer morning dawned bright and lovely. It was a morning full of possibilities, one bearing sweet promises of hours to be passed in contentment with nothing rushed. In that spirit, the household at Longbourn was just beginning to stir to face the new day. The servants were up first, of course, preparing the morning meal and readying the house for the family's activities. With two of the Bennet children currently out of the house, there should have been less work to do, and everything should have been much quieter -- especially with Lydia's removal to Brighton. However, the Gardiner children were in residence while their parents were touring Derbyshire with Elizabeth, and they added a dimension to the household that hadn't been experienced in quite some time. The addition of four younger children had been a delight to some and an aggravation to others at Longbourn, but on a day such as the one dawning, their presence just seemed right. Summer was a wonderful season for the young, with so much to be enjoyed and explored and discovered.

Mr. Bennet was usually the first of the family to awaken in the morning, as he liked to be dressed and thoroughly ensconced in his library before the morning meal. This allowed him to build up his patience and forbearance for the day while avoiding all the feminine dressing and hairstyling and fussing that would happen above stairs as soon as his wife and daughters roused themselves. On this morning, as had been the case with most other mornings in the past weeks, the thought of his daughters caused Mr. Bennet to let out a small sigh. If Lydia had been the only one absent, it would have caused him no particular pangs. Her absence was, in general, a relief, except when he had to listen to Mrs. Bennet exclaim repeatedly about how cruelly she missed her dear Lydia. No, it was the absence of his second daughter that caused a wistful smile to play across Mr. Bennet's lips and caused his eyes to temporarily lose their focus on his book.

Lizzy was his favorite, there was never any doubt of that, but her time in Derbyshire reminded him in a million ways every day of just how valuable and important she was to him. He could not take nearly as much delight in the silliness of others, nor could he continually sharpen his mind with hers in intelligent conversation. Jane was the closest thing he had to a sensible companion in Lizzy's absence, and she was almost completely involved these days in the care of the Gardiner's children. So, until his Lizzy returned home, Mr. Bennet could be found in his library in almost every moment when he was not dining or sleeping.

Mrs. Bennet could go visit Mrs. Phillips or stay above stairs complaining about how the Gardiner children were a trial to her nerves; Jane could continue to be a gentle and caring guardian to her cousins; Mary could read and play her music; and Kitty could continue to mourn about the injustice of not being asked to go to Brighton. These long summer days had fallen into this type of routine, and today looked to be no different. Mr. Bennet knew that breakfast would be starting shortly, so he placed his book aside and gathered up all his fortitude to face his wife.

As he opened the library door, he heard a horse gallop rapidly up the front drive and come to a grinding halt just outside the front door. The knock came just seconds later, and all of Mr. Bennet's natural curiosity was peaked.

Hill had come into the foyer to see to the door, but Mr. Bennet forestalled her, saying, "No, it's alright, Hill. I will see to it. Just make sure everything is in order for breakfast." With a curtsey and a "Yes, sir," she was off again, and Mr. Bennet turned to open the front door to this unexpected morning visitor.

The stranger who stood before him on the other side of the door increased his curiosity tenfold, for he was obviously a messenger of some kind. He had the look of a man who had not slept the previous night, and even though the day was still young he was already sweating profusely. The man caught his breath, held out his hand to reveal a letter, and said, "An express for you from Pemberley, sir."

Pemberley... it took Mr. Bennet a few seconds to remember where he had heard that name before, but then it came to him in a flash. It was the estate of that man who was universally reviled in Hertfordshire, and even more so by some of his own family, Mr. Darcy! For what possible reason could he be receiving an express from Mr. Darcy's estate? The look of surprise and curiosity on Mr. Bennet's face was completely genuine in this instance, and he reached out very slowly to take the offered letter. He couldn't let the messenger get away without asking for some kind of hint, so he said, "Have you any idea what business the master of Pemberley has for me in this letter?"

The messenger shook his head and replied simply, "No, sir. I was simply told to deliver this to your household as quickly as possible, and so I have done. I was also told to wait here so that I might accompany any members of your family who wished to make the journey to Pemberley."

Now Mr. Bennet was truly dumbfounded, a rare occurrence for him. His family? Journey to Pemberley? Whatever for? He wondered if this was some kind of an elaborate joke that Lizzy and the Gardiners were attempting to play from their location in Derbyshire. They were waiting for him to come running to show up on Mr. Darcy's doorstep without an invitation, just to see what kind of reaction they could get. If that were indeed the case, Mr. Bennet would have to let them know when they returned to Longbourn just how much he admired their attempt. This caused him to relax and smile slightly at the messenger, and he said,

"Alright, step inside for just a moment while I attempt to get to the bottom of this little mystery. I fear you may have been sent here for no particularly good reason, but I suppose the letter will tell the tale."

As he took his first good look at the unopened letter in his hand, he immediately recognized the penmanship of his brother-in-law. Either his practical joke theory was gaining more credibility, or for some remarkable reason Mr. Gardiner was actually at Pemberley. Mr. Bennet still felt the first option to be more probable, so he prepared himself to be excessively diverted at the contents of the express. He broke the ornate wax seal and began reading the contents of the letter...

Later, on his return to Derbyshire, the messenger from Pemberley would swear to his fellow servants that he had never seen the blood drain from a man's face so quickly as it did from Mr. Bennet's that morning. The other servants would scarcely be able to believe his account that in the space of mere minutes, Mr. Bennet seemed to age at least ten years.

He would swear that he could hear the man mumble to himself, over and over again, "Not Lizzy. Please God, not my Lizzy."

The messenger would attempt to describe how it seemed that Mr. Bennet had entered his own world, one in which his surroundings completely faded away except for the piece of paper he held in his now trembling hands. The one word the messenger would come back to in every attempt to retell this tale was shock. Never before had he seen a man embody so completely the definition of shock, and he thoroughly believed he would never see one again. The only thing that seemed to pull him back to reality was the sound of his family coming downstairs to breakfast, and somehow the messenger knew there would be no more peace for this family as they gathered together for this meal – it was all about to be shattered.

Mr. Bennet finally managed to tear his agonized gaze away from that horrible piece of paper and lift his face to the messenger. He wanted to rip up the letter into a million pieces and pretend he'd never seen it. He wanted to shake the man standing in front of him and demand to know who had the audacity to lie to him so cruelly. He wanted to be able to go in and eat breakfast with his family without the terrible burden of what he had to tell them. Most of all, he wanted at that moment to sprout wings like some mythological creature and fly across the miles to be with his most beloved child.

When he had cleared his mind enough to form a coherent sentence, he said in a low voice, one that was almost a whisper, "Would you be good enough to wait here for just a few minutes more? I need to speak to my family, and then I will be accompanying you back to Pemberley at once."

When the messenger said, "Of course, sir," he was already speaking to Mr. Bennet's back. He didn't want to delay the inevitable any longer than he had to, and he knew they were already waiting for him to start breakfast. And of course, the longer he waited, the longer it would take him to get to Lizzy. As he entered the dining room, the eyes of Mrs. Bennet, Jane, Mary, Kitty, the Gardiner children, and Hill all turned to look at the master of the house.

As soon as her father entered the room, Jane knew there was something terribly wrong. In truth, she and Hill were probably the only ones in the room who were perceptive enough or knew Mr. Bennet well enough to notice. Everyone else was more occupied by the fact that they had been waiting for their breakfast than by the haggard and dazed appearance of Mr. Bennet clutching a letter in his hand.

In fact, Mrs. Bennet was so oblivious to the pain on her husband's face that she started in at once, raising her voice to say, "What kept you? I am sure your family would have wasted away to nothing had you stayed away much longer. It is most cruel of you to dawdle in that library of yours while I must wait here to eat. You know how fragile my nerves are; I must eat at the appropriate moment or I'm sure I should faint away. I know Kitty feels the same way, and Jane must eat to keep up her energy to deal with all these children."

When her father only managed a weakly condemning look and didn't even shoot back a witty retort to her mother's comments, Jane's suspicions were confirmed. Something was definitely wrong. She was instantly concerned for her father's health; he did not look well at all. Her father looked at her and spoke in a voice that sounded to her ears as old as any she had ever heard,

"Jane, I need to speak with you alone for a moment out in the hall. The rest of you may begin eating," his eyes cutting to Mrs. Bennet harshly on this last remark.

Jane instantly got up to go with her father, saying to her cousins on the way out, "Behave yourselves and eat quietly until I return, all right?"

Once they reached the privacy of the hall, Jane wanted to assail her father immediately, but he beat her to it. He lightly touched her arm and said,

"My child, I need your help. Something has happened, and I need you to take over the household while I am away. Your mother, I suspect, will be far too distraught to be of any help to you, but you may enlist the help of Hill, Mary, Kitty, and anyone else on the estate you may need. They all know their roles, and they should not give you any trouble. Can you do this for me?"

"Yes Papa, of course. But aren't you going to tell me what has happened? Why must you go away? Where are you going? How long will you be gone?"

Mr. Bennet, instead of wasting his time with words, simply handed her the letter he was still clasping in his hand. As Jane read, she gasped, and tears sprang up into her eyes and began to silently stream down her cheeks. It was her turn to grasp her father's arm for support, and she managed to choke out on a small sob,

"No Papa, not Lizzy! I want to go with you! I want to be with her, I want to help her, she needs me! Please Papa, let me go with you! Let me go to Lizzy!"

Mr. Bennet completely understood his eldest daughter's feelings, for he knew that she and Lizzy were as close as sisters ever could be. He had anticipated her reaction, and responded with complete honesty,

"I know you wish to be with her, Jane, and I know she would be happy to have you there. But you will do the most good for her by helping to keep things running here until she is well. She must have a place to come home to as soon as she is recovered, so we need you here. Your mother might very well become asylum material if you are not here to keep her calm, and Lizzy will understand why you needed to stay. In fact, you could not show your love or concern for her any better."

Jane never argued with any logic that appealed to her love for Lizzy, and she certainly wouldn't have started in these circumstances, so she simply nodded her acceptance and resolved to do her very best to keep everything under control at Longbourn in her father's absence. She sent all her prayers to heaven for her beloved sister, linked her arm with her father's, and rallied all her strength for the challenges to come, not the least of which would be dealing with her mother's hysterics.

As Mr. Bennet mounted his horse a short time later, the messenger from Pemberley right beside him on his own mount, he was happy to be getting his journey underway for more reasons than one. He would be with Lizzy as quickly as the horses would carry them, but he was also leaving behind the wild hysterics of Mrs. Bennet, whom he could still hear shrieking inside the house. He had not expected the breaking of the news to go much better than it had, and everyone had responded as they were expected to. If Mrs. Bennet had not already been seated at the breakfast table, she would have sank into a chair or fainted onto the floor.

As it was, her three daughters who were present all came around her as she started sobbing and shrieking all at once, letting out her angst in a variety of forms.

"Oh my poor Lizzy! She might already be dead! Oh how shall I survive this? My poor nerves cannot take this! How could my brother have let this happen? They must have let her have too much freedom. They did not control her, and now Lizzy is probably dead because of it! And at the estate of that odious man Mr. Darcy! I hope he feels very sorry now for the way he slighted Lizzy before! It serves him right, terrible man! I always warned Lizzy that her adventures would get her into trouble, but would she ever listen to me? NO! Oh, I need my smelling salts!"

"HILL!"

On and on it went, and still went, as Mrs. Bennet was helped up to her room. Jane was trying to help her mother and help keep her cousins calm at the same time, and as Mr. Bennet was having his horse readied and preparing himself to get on the road to Derbyshire, he gave his daughter a sympathetic look and a reassuring squeeze of the hand. She saw him to the door, and said,

"Be safe on your journey, Papa, and please send us news of Lizzy as soon as you arrive. You will both have my continual prayers."

The beautiful summer morning had turned into a sparkling summer day, but it no longer held the same promise, no longer stretched itself lazily before them as so many others had. A cloud of uncertainty and despair had settled over Longbourn that morning, and it seemed like winter in the middle of the year. Mr. Bennet kicked his horse into action, and he could feel the chill of that winter in his very bones as he rode to find the fate of his dearest daughter.

Chapter 17

She wouldn't cry, even though she was in pain. Mr. Bennet knew his second daughter well, and so he just stood back and watched her. He didn't go to her, didn't scoop her off the ground, or didn't try to whisper words of parental comfort to soothe her pain. He longed to do all of those things, since he absolutely hated seeing his Lizzy in any kind of pain. But even at the tender age of five, her pride would detest any such assistance from him. She had made the mistake, and she would wish to recover herself from it without a great deal of fuss or fawning. She and Mr. Bennet both knew that he had warned her about running too quickly in her dress over the grounds at Longbourn.

He didn't really mind it, he just didn't want her to get hurt. Lizzy knew her father didn't mind, and that was the only thing she considered when she took off across the lawn for the tree swing. The thought of getting hurt never really entered such a young, seemingly invincible mind, and she paid no heed to her father's warnings to slow down. She was really more stunned than hurt when she'd lost her footing on a patch of grass that was still slick with the summer morning dew, but she could also feel that she had skinned her knee and it was bleeding slightly. The tears started to trickle down slowly, as much from the embarrassment of falling in front of someone as the pain from her knee.

Mr. Bennet knew that Lizzy was trying to hide her tears from him, trying to be so brave, so strong. He smiled a somewhat rueful smile, but one that was full of love, and even admiration. Amazing, he thought. She is only a child, a female child at that, and yet I already see so much to look forward to as her personality continues to develop. I see so much of myself in her already. She is so headstrong, so confident in her own decisions, and is already quite the wit. But now, she gathered herself back together, skinned knee and all, and pushed herself back to her feet. She dusted off her dress, covered in grass and some blood stains, and turned back to face her father across the distance over the lawn. The tug he felt at his heartstrings when he had seen her down on the ground just a minute earlier was nothing compared to the joy and love he experienced when he saw her lift her head and stick out her chin in a gesture full of pride, bordering on defiance.

Her look seemed to say, "You see, Papa, I am fine. I am not beaten. I may fall sometimes, but I will pick myself back up every time. Nothing will keep me down for long." With a toss of her glowing dark curls, she turned back toward the tree swing and started off towards it again... running. He wouldn't try to stop her, he didn't want to interrupt the amusement, entertainment, and joy he got from watching his Lizzy. Mr. Bennet also got the message of Lizzy's last look. He sensed that his second daughter (and the one who was already his favorite) would always be one to steer her own course, even if it caused her to falter occasionally. But as that thought caused him to worry for her, he also took comfort in knowing that she was strong and could pull herself back up when she did falter in her path. She would be alright. And she would make her father proud.

These were the thoughts that occupied his mind as one small tear rolled down Mr. Bennet's cheek when he recalled this incident from so long ago. He quickly wiped it away. Just like his daughter, he never enjoyed the idea of anyone seeing him weak. His Lizzy was the one who was weak now, and she would need him to be strong. He at least had to try, even though he was presently tired, hungry, and feeling every bit of his age.

He and the servant from Pemberley had just entered the grounds of the estate and were approaching the main drive up to the house. Too much time, he kept thinking to himself. Too much time had passed since he had received that letter, since they had set out on their journey, since she had slipped into her own world inside her body. Too many things could have happened, too many things could have gone wrong, or right, in the amount of time it took him to travel to her side. Religion was as much a part of Mr. Bennet's life as it was for any English gentleman of his day with an estate to run. He was a man of principle, he believed in God, but he was certainly not devout like his daughter Mary or the ever-amusing Mr. Collins. But his trip to Derbyshire had been long, very long, and it had given Mr. Bennet time to reflect on many things.

That incident from Lizzy's childhood had sprung to mind almost as soon as the journey began, and he kept coming back to it over and over again as he rode. He knew his daughter was strong; he knew she could pull out of this, however serious it might be. However, he also knew that this wasn't just a simple scrape on the knee that she could dust herself off from and run off again on the same path. No matter what happened from the time he stepped through Pemberley's front door, he couldn't shake the feeling that this event would change so many things for all of them. There were so many possibilities, so many conjectures swimming around in his head like ingredients in some complicated soup that he did the only thing he could think to do -- interestingly, he prayed.

He turned this whole awful mess over to a higher power, hoping God would take control and put everything right again. He couldn't completely stop worrying. He was human, and a parent; and he probably loved Lizzy more than any other person in his life. But this time, his Lizzy really needed someone to come scoop her off the ground and set her back on her feet again, and just like all those years ago, it couldn't be him, even if he wanted it to be. She needed help, more help than her father could give. It made him feel helpless, but if that couldn't drive one to God, what could? What indeed, Mr. Bennet thought, as the front door came into view. They all needed help right now.

"God help us all," he prayed under his breath as he wearily dismounted and prepared to face the arduous tests ahead.

The butler quickly informed Darcy of Mr. Bennet's arrival. He is here. The father of the woman I love has come to her aid quickly, which was as it should be. Still, he couldn't help some of the emotions he was feeling as he went to greet Mr. Bennet and welcome him to Pemberley.

Jealousy... the more people who came to hold vigil until Elizabeth recovered, the more he felt a surely unreasonable amount of jealousy. They would all want to see her, hold her hand, and spend time with her. He didn't even really have the right to see her, and it still made him jealous of the time with her that he had to divide with others, even her father.

Worry... Mr. Bennet, like every other resident of Hertfordshire, had heard many things about the proud and unpleasant Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bennet had no doubt been told about his first snubbing of Elizabeth at the assembly rooms so long ago. Darcy didn't know how much more Mr. Bennet knew about his history with Elizabeth in Hertfordshire and Kent. Undoubtedly, Mr. Bennet believed that his daughter did not think much of the man whose house he was now entering, and he would be right. Because of all this, Mr. Darcy was feeling very anxious.

He wanted desperately to make sure that Mr. Bennet was as much at ease as possible under the circumstances. He wanted to make a good impression, to begin to show Mr. Bennet everything he eventually wanted to show Elizabeth about how much he'd reformed and tried to do away with his former pride and haughty reserve. In his wildest and fondest dreams, he would eventually be asking this man for Elizabeth's hand in marriage. He had to begin now to strip away the negative foundation he'd already laid and rebuild a solid new one. He hoped that he now had a few allies in Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, since he had endeavored to treat them with the utmost respect and kindness.

As he entered the foyer, his thoughts were still in the room upstairs where Elizabeth lay. Mr. Bennet looked old as he tried to shake off the dust and weariness of traveling non-stop. Mr. Darcy held out his hand and said,

"Welcome to Pemberley, Mr. Bennet. I am terribly sorry that you could not be my guest under happier circumstances. Let me begin to assure you that nothing has changed in your daughter's condition since you received the Gardiners' letter, so you may relieve yourself of any anxiety that she has worsened."

At that moment, the Gardiners joined them in the foyer. Hand clasping, hugging, and misty looks were exchanged in the moments that followed. Finally, Mr. Bennet looked at Mr. Darcy, and with as much command of himself as he could muster, said,

"Thank you for all your efforts on my daughter's behalf, Mr. Darcy. Your hospitality at a time such as this is most appreciated. Now, I would like to go to Elizabeth please."

The Gardiners went with him, and Mr. Darcy stayed behind in the foyer, not able to impose himself into the family scene, even though it was his house. He would just have to be content with little glimpses of his beloved and concentrate on his efforts to make her relatives feel welcome.

Those who knew Jane Bennet would have said that her well of patience and forbearance seemed to have no end. The key word, at this moment, was -- seemed. She was bending under the weight of worry for Elizabeth, the frailties of her mother, and the supervision of her cousins. Her father had instructed her before his departure to enlist the assistance of anyone and everyone around her, but her sense of dangling by the end of a rope was very keen. She had even come close to possibly, maybe saying cross words to her sisters over their lack of assistance. But she felt grateful that the day had ended and it was finally time for some much needed rest.

All the other members of her family seemed reasonably settled. Jane had checked with Hill and some of the other servants to make sure everything was finished for one day and prepared for the next. Just as she was preparing for the delightful feeling of her head hitting the pillow, she heard loud banging at the front door. Thinking her father had already managed to send news of Lizzy, she gathered energy she hadn't known she had and raced downstairs. Hill had beaten her to the door and paid the man who had delivered the express. At the same time she removed it from Hill's hands, she asked aloud, "Is it from Pemberley?" Her knees almost buckled beneath her when she read what followed, and all she could do was gasp out one word,

"LYDIA!"

Continued in Next Section