Chapter 25

A s Darcy left Mr Gardiner’s side, he plunged involuntarily again into that peculiar dream-like state that had plagued him since he had heard Elizabeth was missing. Struggling to return to reality, he approached his men to discuss their course of action.

“She may have made a wrong step, slipped and fallen into the ravine,” one of his men said—to which Mr Darcy nodded.

“Yes, indeed, that is where we must search first. Fortunately, the most treacherous part of that terrain is quite some distance away.”

“We shall find her, sir,” another reassured him. The turmoil that had overcome their usually composed and calm master had not gone unnoticed by his loyal servants, and they all understood the lady’s importance to him.

“Miss Bennet is no stranger to forest walks,” Mr Darcy said. “If she simply stumbled upon a rocky surface and has broken an ankle, she should have heard the calls by now. As you said, we shall search the ravine first.”

They walked towards the ravine, four hundred yards from the road. Unfortunately, the path was also covered in trees and enormous bushes, which made the search even more difficult.

They divided into two groups, each descending in different directions and calling out to Elizabeth. The forest echoed with the sound of her name ringing from numerous voices. It would be impossible for her not to hear, especially with Mr Gardiner’s group doing the same on the other side of the road.

The unrelenting thought that she had not heard their calls weighed heavily on Darcy’s mind, worrying him profoundly.

Please, Elizabeth , he silently prayed in his heart, please, just be alive .

And when he dared to state that unthinkable thought, his whole being began to tremble from the cold coming from his soul.

She cannot be dead , he mused, but it seemed that he had spoken aloud, for a man walking not far from him approached and said, “No, sir. We must hope the lady is alive, and we shall soon find her.”

He nodded gratefully, looking at his man. He was Martin, one of the young men working at the stables. He had known him since he was a boy, and somehow Martin and his reassuring and caring voice made him regain his confidence.

Suddenly, a nearby voice shattered the silence. A footman, standing only fifty yards away, called out urgently. Although Mr Darcy could not see him, the voice was clear—his name was being called.

“Mr Darcy, Mr Darcy! We have found her!”

His heart stopped somewhere between pain and joy, but the shock was so powerful that he could not walk. It felt as though his feet were glued to the ground, paralysed, a few yards from her.

“She is alive, sir!” the footman cried, and only then did Darcy’s feet come off the ground as he ran towards her.

They all hurried towards Miss Elizabeth, and he finally laid eyes on her. She had not fallen far from the edge of the ravine, and unfortunately, her head must have hit a stone, rendering her unconscious. With great care and the assistance of several men, he carried her to the coach, and within minutes, Mr Gardiner had joined them.

He and Mr Gardiner climbed into the conveyance, looking at her as she lay motionless on the other bench. It was an unusual sight, for Elizabeth was a bundle of energy, always in motion, exploring and experiencing life’s joys and sorrows.

“Should we await the doctor?” Mr Darcy asked, but Mr Gardiner shook his head. He wanted Elizabeth to be in a proper bed, with his wife at her side. The agony that his wife was undoubtedly experiencing weighed heavily on Mr Gardiner’s heart, and the best solution for all was to leave that wretched place as swiftly as possible.

As they journeyed, they encountered the doctor’s carriage. Mr Darcy and Mr Gardiner allowed him to take their place and attend to her .

They took the carriage that brought the doctor but could not speak, avoiding looking at each other; even though they had found Elizabeth alive, and that was a joy in itself, they did not know how severe the blow to her head might be.

“She has a swelling at the back of her head,” Darcy finally murmured, his heart heavy with concern. He loved Elizabeth deeply, and the torment he felt was almost unbearable. Yet, he could not imagine the agony that her uncle must be enduring. The Bennets and the Gardiners were a decent family, and Darcy suddenly felt the weight of his harsh judgments towards them. Perhaps Mrs Bennet’s behaviour was vexing, but there were also good souls among them, like her uncle and aunt. Bingley’s letters were also full of praise for Miss Bennet, and Darcy finally had every reason to believe in her exceptional qualities.

He tried to occupy his mind with those thoughts, but that was impossible as her face kept invading his mind, motionless, lying on that bench.

He sighed, overwhelmed by the pain of not knowing Elizabeth’s true condition and his shame and regret for all the foolish things that had happened between them since he had first seen her in Meryton. There had been only one constant feeling in his heart since then, and that was love.

“She will be well,” Mr Gardiner reassured him. He took pity on Darcy, whose torment was visible.

“Yes,” Darcy agreed, seeking solace in hope. “We must hold on to that belief.”

They arrived before the doctor and Elizabeth, welcomed by almost the entire household. Darcy looked on, stunned; the porch had never been so crowded, everybody eager to see how they could help.

His aunt and sister had been weeping and supporting Mrs Gardiner, who appeared distraught.

“We found her!” Mr Gardiner’s voice rang out from the steps of the carriage as he rushed up to embrace his wife.

Darcy, in turn, consoled his own family. “She is with the doctor, just behind us.”

“We have prepared the green apartment for Miss Bennet,” his sister informed him, and a pale smile appeared on his face as it was the most beautiful guest apartment at Pemberley.

“You have done well,” Darcy said. “But we must also attend to our other guests.”

“We have, my dear,” his aunt replied. “As soon as we have news of Miss Bennet’s condition, our guests will have a chance to refresh themselves, and dinner is ready and waiting for us.”

As they spoke, Elizabeth’s carriage arrived. Immediately, the means were summoned to carry her carefully into the house, and Elizabeth was transported to a chamber.

Darcy observed the dignified demeanour of her aunt and uncle. They clung to each other, their distress evident, yet they concealed their inner pain.

They gathered in the drawing-room to await the doctor. No one could speak, yet the silence was not oppressive, and their hearts were filled with hope for Elizabeth’s recovery. The mere fact that she was alive and showed no visible signs of serious injury offered them solace.

“I believe we could all use a drink,” Darcy proposed, and everybody agreed. With glasses in hand, they thought of Elizabeth, fervently wishing her a swift recovery.

Half an hour later, the doctor joined them, and, in unison, the occupants of the room rose to their feet.

“Miss Bennet has no broken bones, but I shall not lie—her head injury is quite serious. The swelling on her temple constitutes a significant risk until it is fully reabsorbed. I shall stay with her through the evening and the night, but there is little else you can do to aid her. I must request that you refrain from visiting until I grant permission—”

“I could stay with her,” Mrs Gardiner pleaded, desperate to participate in Elizabeth’s healing.

“You need rest tonight, my dear,” Mrs Barstow interjected, her affection and worry apparent, and the doctor nodded in agreement.

“Tomorrow, we shall see how the situation is and decide what is best for Miss Bennet.”

Unsatisfied with what he had heard, Darcy followed the doctor, leaving his aunt in charge of organising the evening and the accommodations for their guests.

“Tell me everything, Mr Stuart,” Darcy uttered in a commanding tone that demanded forthrightness.

“Are Miss Bennet’s parents here?” the doctor asked.

“No,” came the response.

“Then, I shall advise you, Mr Darcy, to call for them. It is serious.”

“Should we still hold out hope?” Darcy asked, his countenance turning ashen with worry.

“Mr Darcy, I have practised medicine for three decades. And I can only tell you that I do not know. I have witnessed miraculous recoveries as well as tragic deaths resulting from seemingly minor head injuries. The fact that she is breathing regularly and has colour in her cheeks is a good sign. Cold water on the lump, do not move her, and keep her away from noise and agitation is all we can do for now. I once had a patient who fell from a horse and remained in a similar state for a full month—”

“Good Lord, how did he eat?” Darcy asked.

“He swallowed mechanically, and we fed him with great patience—”

“We shall spare no effort,” Darcy declared, thinking about fetching a doctor from Derby or even farther away.

The doctor left to attend to Elizabeth, and when Darcy turned, his aunt awaited him.

“What a tragedy,” he murmured.

“Not yet,” his aunt replied vehemently. “Miss Bennet is young and in excellent health.”

“What a disaster—I made such a mistake,” he continued, feeling utterly destroyed, casting a desperate gaze upon his aunt, who nodded in agreement—she understood what he meant.

“With that , I agree,” she answered, caressing his arm with a maternal gesture.

“I had thought they would stay near Lambton, giving me time to explain to Miss Bennet what had happened. And if she…” he hesitated to finish his sentence, even thinking such a tragedy was unimaginable.

“Stop having such horrible thoughts. Let us believe she will be well. Meanwhile, Mr Gardiner is writing to her parents— ”

“They must come to Derbyshire.”

“That is what I discussed with him. They are welcome to stay as long as Miss Bennet needs them.”

“Of course,” Darcy said with conviction. The past was somewhere very far behind him, and now all he wanted was for her to be healthy again. “I shall also write a few words for Mr Bennet,” he said, disappearing as he wished the message to be sent that afternoon.