Page 13 of Grief and Grievances
Fitzwilliam’s eyebrows rose in mild surprise, but he nodded his approval. “A wise decision, Darcy. Your reputation precedes you, madam.”
“Thank you, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Charlotte responded with a small smile. “I am only too glad to be able to help in any way that I can.”
“Your assistance has been invaluable, Mrs. Collins,” Darcy declared, his deep voice resonating with sincerity. “We are truly grateful for your presence here during such trying times.”
“Your appreciation is most kind, Mr. Darcy,” Charlotte demurred, her cheeks colouring slightly at the praise. “But there is no need to thank me for merely doing what is required of us all in the face of adversity.”
Despite his heavy heart, Darcy could not help but admire Charlotte’s modesty and dedication to duty. Once again, he was reminded of the strength and resilience that lay hidden within the gentle souls that surrounded him, their true mettle revealed only when faced with life’s harshest trials.
“Nevertheless,” he insisted, “your efforts have not gone unnoticed, and we are most fortunate to have you in our midst.”
“Indeed,” agreed Fitzwilliam, his eyes conveying a warmth that belied the gravity of their circumstances. “We would be lost without your support, Mrs. Collins.”
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Charlotte replied, her voice steady despite the emotions that flickered across her face. “Now, what may I assist you with?”
“Please, give these letters your immediate attention, Mrs. Collins,” Darcy said as he handed the sealed correspondence to Charlotte. “It is of great importance that they reach their destinations promptly.”
“Rest assured, Mr. Darcy, I shall personally see to their dispatch,” Charlotte replied with a firm nod, her resolve evident in the steady gaze she maintained.
“Of course,” Darcy nodded, handing over the sealed correspondence.
“Furthermore,” Charlotte continued, “I thought it best to inform you both that the doctor has just arrived.”
“Excellent,” Darcy murmured, relief flooding his features for a brief moment before being replaced by the familiar mask of stoicism. “And where might we find him?”
“Upon his arrival, I directed him straight to Miss de Bourgh’s room,” Charlotte explained. “He recognized the urgency of the situation and insisted on examining her again without delay.”
“Thank you for your prompt action, Mrs. Collins,” Fitzwilliam spoke gratefully, his eyes briefly flashing with hope before resuming their sombre cast.
Darcy nodded his thanks also. “Would you request the doctor attend us here when his examination is complete?” he asked, and Charlotte nodded her acquiescence.
As he watched Charlotte exit the room, her posture straight and her steps determined, he marvelled at the quiet strength that resided in such a seemingly unassuming figure.
“Remarkable woman,” Fitzwilliam murmured, echoing Darcy’s thoughts as they both stood, momentarily lost in contemplation of all that had transpired and the challenges that lay ahead.
The rain began to fall, beating down against the windowpanes, the relentless patter a fitting backdrop to the sombre atmosphere that pervaded Rosings. Darcy stood by the hearth, his gaze flickering between the dancing flames and Fitzwilliam’s pensive expression. The warmth from the fire did little to dispel the chill that clung to him, a coldness born of fear and uncertainty.
A heavy silence settled over the room as both men contemplated the fragile thread upon which Anne’s life now hung.
Chapter Seven
Elizabethstoodattheedge of Anne’s bed, her heart heavy with concern as she awaited the arrival of the doctor. The room was dimly lit, casting a sombre glow upon Anne’s pale and fragile form. Shadows danced on the walls, giving life to Elizabeth’s anxieties.
“Miss Bennet,” a soft voice called from the doorway, startling her from her thoughts. Relief washed over her as she beheld the wise, older gentleman who had come to attend to Anne. His calm demeanour and practical air lent an aura of reassurance that Elizabeth clung to amidst the uncertainty.
“Doctor,” she greeted him with a slight curtsy, attempting to maintain the proper decorum despite the urgency of the situation. “I am grateful for your swift attendance. The new mother and child are well?”
“They are indeed, Miss Bennet,” the doctor replied, nodding kindly. He approached Anne’s bedside, his experienced hands gently examining her fevered brow and gauging her laboured breaths. Elizabeth watched intently, hoping for some sign that the young woman would recover.
As the doctor continued his examination, Elizabeth found herself contemplating the expectations society placed upon women like Anne. She reflected on the pressures of maintaining one’s reputation, securing advantageous marriages, and fulfilling familial duties, all while navigating the challenges of womanhood. It seemed a cruel twist of fate that Anne should be struck down in the prime of her life.
“Anne has been well cared for,” the doctor said, breaking her reverie. Though his words held a note of comfort, his expression remained serious, causing Elizabeth’s heart to sink once more.
“Thank you, Doctor,” she replied, forcing a small smile.
“Your presence here is most beneficial for Miss de Bourgh,” the doctor continued. “Her spirits must be lifted, and your companionship will undoubtedly provide solace in these trying times.”
“Indeed, I shall do everything within my power to ease her suffering,” Elizabeth vowed, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. She glanced at Anne’s still form, her resolve strengthened by the love and responsibility she felt toward the other woman.
