Page 7 of Grief and Grievances
Though the weight of their current situation pressed heavily upon them, Elizabeth could not help but find solace in the knowledge that she was not alone in her endeavours. Beside her was a man whom she had once thought the embodiment of arrogance but who now revealed himself to be a paragon of strength, compassion, and quiet dignity.
“Can you explain to me what happened, Miss Bennet?” Darcy asked quietly, drawing her gaze to his concerned face.
The goose, in all its brazen glory, dominated Elizabeth’s abridged account of the accident. She described how the creature had emerged from the hedgerow with a honk loud enough to awaken the dead, causing the ponies to rear and bolt, leaving chaos in their wake.
“Such an unexpected disruption,” she mused sadly. “One could not have foreseen the consequences of such a seemingly innocuous encounter.”
“Indeed,” Darcy concurred solemnly, his gaze following the motion of her hands as she continued to tend to Anne’s injuries. “It is a cruel reminder of how swiftly fortune can turn against us.”
As they spoke, Mr. Collins returned, his face flushed and damp with exertion. Behind him followed the farmer and several labourers, who set to work with quiet efficiency in preparing to transport Mrs. Jenkinson’s body onto a nearby cart.
“Miss Bennet, I trust you were able to provide Mr. Darcy with an accurate account of our misfortune?” Mr. Collins inquired nervously, his eyes darting between the two of them in search of any sign of disapproval.
“Indeed, sir,” Elizabeth replied, maintaining her composure despite a surge of irritation at his presumption. “I have related the unfortunate role the goose played in this tragic event.”
“Ah, yes,” Mr. Collins stammered, his relief palpable. “A most deplorable occurrence.”
Elizabeth watched as the labourers carefully lifted Mrs. Jenkinson’s lifeless form onto the cart, their movements slow and deliberate in an effort to preserve what little dignity remained to the departed woman. She could not help but feel a pang of sorrow for her, imagining the shock and disbelief that would soon envelop Rosings upon receiving news of her untimely end.
As the cart bearing Mrs. Jenkinson’s body began to move away, she could not help but wonder what further trials fate had in store for them and how they would weather the storm that loomed on the horizon.
“Where is that da- I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet,” Darcy murmured as Elizabeth looked at him. “I am only impatient for the doctor’s arrival.”
“He cannot be much longer, Mr Darcy, and Anne’s breathing remains steady.” She tried to reassure him. “Look!” With relief she saw Maria’s slight figure hastening towards them along the lane, a gentleman striding along behind her. “Here he comes now!” A clatter of hooves and wheels from the other direction heralded Colonel Fitzwilliam’s approach with Lady Catherine’s carriage at the same moment.
“Oh, Lizzy,” Maria said breathlessly. “I do apologise for the delay. The doctor was attending a birth.”
“Thank you, Maria,” Elizabeth replied, her tone grateful. “I’m sure you fetched him as quickly as you could.”
“Indeed,” the doctor interjected, bowing slightly. “I am truly sorry for our tardiness, but I come prepared to offer any aid I may render.” He was an older man, his face lined by years of experience and wisdom. His eyes held a kind yet serious expression, immediately putting Elizabeth at ease. They had met in church on several previous Sundays, and she knew Charlotte spoke well of his medical expertise.
Charlotte, sensing the need for discretion, tactfully excused herself to join Mr. Collins and Maria for a moment, leaving Elizabeth alone with Mr. Darcy, the doctor and Anne. As they walked away, Elizabeth could not help but wonder at Charlotte’s intentions, suspecting that her friend sought to ensure their stories aligned and Mr. Collins’ role in the accident remained a secret.
The doctor knelt beside Anne, his practiced hands moving gently over her body, probing for injuries while murmuring questions about the accident.
Mr. Darcy rose as the doctor lifted the hem on Anne’s skirt, discreetly moving away to join his cousin as Fitzwilliam arrived with the carriage.
Elizabeth answered the doctor’s questions as best she could, all the while observing the doctor’s expression closely. She searched for any indication of hope or reassurance, but found only an ever-deepening furrow between his brows.
“Her pulse is weak and her breathing irregular,” the doctor spoke gravely after several moments of examination. “She has sustained a significant impact to her head, which has resulted in a loss of consciousness. Additionally, I fear that there may be internal injuries.”
Elizabeth felt a cold knot growing in the pit of her stomach. She knew that such injuries were often beyond the scope of medical intervention, and she could not suppress a shudder at the thought of Anne’s suffering.
“Is there any hope for her recovery?” she could barely get a whisper out to ask the question.
The doctor hesitated, his eyes downcast. “I cannot say with certainty, Miss Bennet,” he replied slowly, choosing his words with care. “Her condition is grave, and time is of the essence. We must transport her to Rosings as soon as possible, where I can more thoroughly assess her injuries and administer what treatments may be of benefit.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Elizabeth murmured, her heart heavy. She knew that Anne’s prognosis was grim, but she clung to the possibility that the doctor’s skills might yet save her life.
The doctor nodded gravely, his lined face betraying a mixture of concern and determination. “We must proceed with extreme caution in moving Miss de Bourgh to Rosings,” he instructed, his eyes never leaving the still form of Anne. “Any unnecessary jostling could exacerbate her injuries.”
“Understood, Doctor,” Charlotte said, her voice steady despite the worry etched into her features. She turned to Maria, who stood wringing her hands anxiously, and spoke with a quiet authority. “Maria, I need you to accompany Mr. Collins to the Parsonage. Together, you must prepare for Mr Collins to attend Lady Catherine and ensure that she is comforted in this distressing situation.”
“Of course, Charlotte,” Maria replied, casting a last glance at Anne before hurrying after Mr. Collins, who had already begun to make his way back to the house.
“Miss Bennet,” the doctor addressed her gently, drawing her from her musings. “I will need your assistance in ensuring that Miss de Bourgh remains as still as possible during the transport. It is of the utmost importance that we minimise any further harm.”
“Of course, Doctor,” Elizabeth replied, her gaze meeting his with a renewed sense of purpose. “I shall do whatever is necessary to aid in her recovery.”
