Page 5 of Grief and Grievances
In that solemn moment, Elizabeth understood that the bonds of friendship and love would be tested like never before; but with steadfast determination, they would weather the storm together, come what may.
The bright morning sun caught on the shattered phaeton, drawing the eyes of Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy as they came unexpectedly upon the disaster during their morning ride. Their horses whinnied nervously, picking up on their riders’ shock as they beheld Anne’s prone form, her dress stained with blood and dirt. Elizabeth knelt beside her, her own garments smeared with the tragic evidence of her efforts to render aid.
“Good God!” Mr. Darcy exclaimed, dismounting hastily from his horse and striding forward. “What has happened here?”
“Miss de Bourgh fell from her carriage when her ponies were startled,” Elizabeth replied, her voice taut with concern. “We have sent for the doctor, but he is not yet arrived.”
“Let me help her,” Mr. Darcy insisted, bending to lift Anne into his arms. His face was a study in anguish, betraying the depth of his feelings for his cousin.
“No!” Elizabeth cried out, her hand shooting out to grasp his arm. “Mr. Darcy, I implore you, do not move her,” she said, her voice trembling but firm. “We must wait for the doctor. Moving her now might exacerbate her injuries.”
Darcy hesitated, his gaze flitting between Elizabeth and the prone figure of Anne. The anguish on his face was palpable, his strong hands flexing at his sides as he fought the instinct to scoop up his cousin and carry her to safety.
“Elizabeth is right, Darcy,” Colonel Fitzwilliam interjected, placing a steadying hand on his cousin’s arm. “I have seen such accidents among my men. It is crucial that we let the physician examine her first.”
“Very well,” Darcy conceded with a heavy sigh, his jaw clenched in frustration. His dark eyes remained fixed on Anne, his brow furrowed in worry as he knelt beside Elizabeth, lending his support in any way he could.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth whispered, her own fears momentarily eased by his acquiescence. She returned her attention to Anne, pressing a cloth gently against the young woman’s temple in an effort to staunch the bleeding.
As they waited in anxious silence, Elizabeth could not help but marvel at the unexpected unity that had emerged from the tragedy before them. The tension between her and Darcy seemed to dissolve, replaced by a mutual understanding born from shared worry.
Colonel Fitzwilliam paced the area, his boots crunching on the dry stony ground with every step, his military training evident in his measured strides. He glanced periodically at Elizabeth and Darcy, his eyes betraying his own fear for his cousin’s wellbeing. It was clear to Elizabeth that despite his often jovial nature, he held a deep sense of responsibility and care for his family.
Elizabeth’s thoughts churned, reflecting on the delicate balance between love and duty, wondering how such an accident could alter the lives of so many. She looked upon Darcy, his brow still creased with concern, and felt a surge of warmth for him. In this moment, his wealth and pride mattered not; all that remained was a man desperate to protect those dear to him.
“Please, let us pray for her swift recovery,” Elizabeth murmured, her voice barely audible. Both Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded somberly, joining her in quiet supplication.
Elizabeth watched as Mr. Darcy struggled with his own instincts, his hands hovering over Anne’s prone form, yet heeding her warning and restraining himself from moving her. His chest heaved with anxiety, his eyes never leaving his cousin’s pale face.
“Thank you for understanding, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth whispered, reaching out to briefly touch his arm. He gave her a nod, his jaw clenched, but the gratitude in his gaze was unmistakable.
“Miss Bennet,” Colonel Fitzwilliam began, his voice tight with emotion, “I cannot express how much we appreciate your quick thinking and calm demeanour in this situation.”
“Indeed,” Darcy agreed, his voice low and strained. “Your presence of mind has been invaluable.”
“Thank you, gentlemen,” she replied, feeling the weight of their words. “But it is not I who deserves praise; rather, it is the doctor who will surely see Anne through this ordeal.”
“Please, God, let him arrive soon,” Colonel Fitzwilliam murmured under his breath, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
“Have faith, Colonel,” Elizabeth said, offering what comfort she could. “We have done all that is within our power, and now we must trust in the expertise of the doctor.”
Darcy, his gaze still locked upon Anne, reached down to brush a stray lock of hair from her forehead. It was a tender gesture, one that spoke volumes about the love shared between family members. Observing him, Elizabeth felt her heart constrict with compassion for the man who bore his responsibilities with solemn fortitude.
“Pray, let us not lose hope,” she implored, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. “We must believe that Miss de Bourgh will pull through this ordeal.”
“Indeed, Miss Bennet,” Colonel Fitzwilliam agreed, offering a grim smile. “Your words are wise and much needed in this dark hour.”
“Thank you, Colonel.” Elizabeth acknowledged him with a nod, though her thoughts raced ahead to the impending arrival of the doctor. Would he come in time? And if so, would he possess the skill required to save Anne’s life? She had spoken hopefully for the benefit of Anne’s cousins, but even to her inexperienced eye, Miss de Bourgh’s wounds were terrible ones.
“Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said softly, drawing her attention back to the present, “your strength and calm amidst this chaos are truly admirable.”
“Mr. Darcy, I–” she hesitated, flustered by his praise, then continued, “We all have our part to play in times of crisis. It is simply my nature to provide comfort and guidance when others may falter.”
“Perhaps it is your nature, but it is no less commendable,” he insisted, his eyes filled with earnest admiration.
“Lizzy,” Charlotte interjected, her voice quivering ever so slightly, “do you suppose there is anything more we can do for Anne while we await the doctor?”
“Alas, Charlotte, I believe we have done all we can at present,” Elizabeth replied, casting a sombre glance at the unconscious figure lying on the ground. “We must put our faith in the doctor’s abilities and hope for the best.”
