Chapter 61

61

B ennet's gimlet gaze was pitiless, and Darcy could barely look him in the eye. But the man was shrunken in his grief for his daughter, and seemed to think Darcy's unkempt appearance was to be expected.

But the man turned and nodded to Bingley. "Thank you, son. I am afraid Jane will not leave Elizabeth's side." He turned to acknowledge Richard.

"Colonel. I am sorry you find us in some disarray."

Richard bowed. "I would expect nothing less. Please do not be concerned for us."

Darcy's heart was pounding painfully. "Am I …"

Bennet's eyebrow went up. The man was probably wondering what Darcy was going to say; am I too late; am I able to see Elizabeth; am I welcome here; am I to perform a miracle from here; or even am I forgiven?

In fact, Darcy did not know himself what he would have said, but his whole soul was urging him towards the stairs, and when Bennet jerked his head at the housekeeper, Darcy followed, hurrying to keep up with her.

Elizabeth's bedchamber was darkened, with the heavy curtains drawn partway across the windows. Firelight flickered over the scene, but Darcy's gaze went at once to the still figure lying in the bed. Mrs. Bingley sat beside her, holding her hand, her face wet with tears. The housekeeper went silently to the side of the room, to stand beside the trembling maid.

Darcy moved forward.

This was what he had done to the lady he loved.

This was what his pride and hubris had cost her.

She was pale and much thinner, her hair the only vibrant colour left of her. Her lovely eyes were closed, her lips faintly blue, her breaths barely visible.

Unmoving, she seemed unaware of him, of those around her. He knew his anguish showed on his face.

"Elizabeth," he whispered.

He sensed the presence of Bennet in the doorway behind him, but Darcy's attention remained fixed on her. On Elizabeth.

He glanced at Mrs. Bingley, whose eyes were downcast.

How could he help her? Protocol said he ought not even be here, in her chamber, much less that he touch her. But if she did not know he was here, she would die. Her soul, her music, her very self, would be lost to the world.

He reached for her hand and drew closer to her bedside. He pressed her hand with his fingers. How cold she was. "Elizabeth. Elizabeth, I beg you. Please forgive me. I have done you great wrong and it has cost you very dearly." He squeezed her hand harder. Please, Elizabeth, I beg you, I beg you, I beg you . His thoughts echoed in his mind. He was too late.

Mrs. Bingley leaned forward. "Please keep talking to her, Mr. Darcy. Please. I am sure she can hear you, but she needs to keep hearing you."

A chair seat pushed against his legs. Taking the hint, Darcy sat down and leaned closer to Elizabeth's still form. He ignored the rest of his audience, knowing he could not be alone with her, even in this terrible circumstance.

"Elizabeth, I came as soon as I heard you were unwell. I can only offer you my most heartfelt apologies for the unfounded accusations I threw at you. I beg you to say you forgive me; I have put you though a terrible time. None of it was your fault, none of it was your doing. I knew I had erred the day I left here, but was too ashamed to return. You deserve none of what you have suffered and I am solely to blame."

He talked for a long time, his eyes on her hand, resting so still in his; for how long, he did not know, until he stopped at Mrs. Bingley's gasp, and looked at Elizabeth's beloved face; her eyelids were fluttering, and she moved her head slightly.

"Come, Lizzy, you must have a little water to drink now you are awake. Mr. Darcy has come and he will want to see you take some water, Lizzy, my dearest sister." Mrs. Bingley looked over at him.

"Come, Mr. Darcy, she will need you to assist her to sit up slightly so she may take a sip of water."

Alarmed, Darcy glanced at the servants, who had taken a step forward. But Mrs. Bingley shook her head. "It must be you, sir, I believe. Come, slide your arm behind her shoulders so her head rests against your support."

Was she intending to compromise him? Darcy's heart sank. He would marry Elizabeth in a heartbeat, he knew that now, but he would not wish her forced against her will.

"Now, Mr. Darcy, if you please."

He saw Elizabeth try to lift her head, and there was a slight curve on her lips that had not been there an instant before. Thus encouraged, he slipped his hand through behind her head and cradled her in his arm, lifting her head slightly. Mrs. Bingley held a glass with a slight spout to her lips, and Elizabeth — his Elizabeth — took a few, a very few, tiny sips before the weight of her head sagged back against his arm, the effort obviously having exhausted her.

He laid her back against her pillows, feeling very much the loss of her as he withdrew his arm and took her hand again.

Mrs. Bingley looked over at the servants. "Mrs. Hill, please ask cook if she might send up a little of her broth, please, and then keep some more hot for later on."

Darcy did not attend to the rest of the room, but leaned over Elizabeth. Having been permitted to be close to her — so dizzyingly close — he could not countenance leaving her.

Mrs. Bingley leaned forward and began stroking her sister's forehead. Fortunate lady, indeed . Then she began to speak.

"Lizzy, Mr. Darcy is here. He came as soon as he heard you needed him. He is holding your hand. Can you feel him? He is very close. He loves you, Lizzy, and he is here to help you recover."

He sat and listened to her steady conversation for a long time. Then there was the slightest tightening of her fingers in his grasp, and he closed his hand around hers. How he wished he could lift her hand to his lips. He glanced at her sister, and she did not look accusingly at him as Bingley and Richard had done.

He could contain himself no longer, and slowly lifted her hand to his lips, as he had done the day she agreed to his courtship, and his lips burned from the touch of her.

Her lips curved just a fraction. If he hadn't been watching her so closely, he might have missed it. He squeezed her hand further.

Her lips moved. William . There was no sound, but her lips shaped his name, the greatest gift he could imagine at this moment.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Bingley's murmur was quiet. "I believe a cup of broth will arrive in a moment. Will you assist her? She must take some nourishment."

Darcy nodded, thankful that Elizabeth's beloved sister was here; that she knew what to do — and that she hadn't even tried to berate him, even though he deserved it.

When all was prepared, he slipped his arm beneath her shoulders as he had before, ready with his encouragement.

It took a long time, an agonisingly long time, for her to be able to take the broth, but her sister was persistent, and Darcy was ready to do anything that was asked of him. Anything in the world.

As he withdrew his arm and arranged her gently against the pillow, he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers without thought. "Elizabeth."

Her answer was just a breath of air on his lips, the tiniest whisper. "William."

Hope rose within him. "My dearest Elizabeth. Come back to us, get well. The world needs you, and I cannot imagine you not being in the world."

Her eyes flickered open and she looked at him for the briefest instant before fatigue took her in its grasp and her fingers slackened in his.

Her sister was smiling down at her. "Yes, Lizzy. You may rest. Then I will wake you for some more broth. You must regain your strength." She looked up at him, hope in her expression.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I … I hope very much that you can stay with her. I believe it is her only chance."

His gaze dropped to Elizabeth. "If her father permits me, I will not leave her."

The lady winced. "I believe he will bow to the need for you to remain. But I think he may speak very harshly to you, and I hope you do not leave because of it."

"I doubt it is anything more than I deserve, Mrs. Bingley." Darcy looked down at Elizabeth. "I am desolated at the pain I caused her."

"Lizzy is the best person I have ever known, Mr. Darcy, and the most forgiving."

He shook his head. "Some things are unforgivable, madam. What I did was unforgivable. But I will pay whatever penance I may that she will not suffer more because of my actions."

"Then that is all I can ask." She leaned back, her fatigue obvious. "I believe I will try to get her to take a cup of broth every hour at the very least. If you are available to assist me, it would be helpful."

He nodded, his hand still around Elizabeth's. He never wanted to let her go.