Page 26 of Wickham Likes 'Em Young
Elizabeth felt curiously deflated. She soothed herself with a careful brush-out of her hair, and considering that she would certainly not be going anywhere that day, nor seeing anyone, she put her hair up in the simplest of styles with half the normal number of hairpins.
She wiggled her shoulders to rid them of their stiffness and quietly went down the stairs, hoping that her father was awake and had heard something….
Just as she entered the hallway, there was a quiet knock on the front door, and without a single conscious thought, Elizabeth opened the door.
It was Darcy! She flung herself into his arms with a single sob, and then she remembered her dignity and popped out of his embrace, blushing. He looked…well, gorgeous, but also weary. Very, very weary.
He clutched her back into his arms and laid his cheek on the top of her head, and he breathed out, “Elizabeth….”
She felt as if every part of her body had gone on high alert, but in the nicest way possible. As if she should never want to leave Darcy’s arms. But along with feeling so happy with thecomforting contact, she felt really upset that the man was so very exhausted. “I should not have woken you last night. Or, I guess it was early this morning.”
“No, it was good that you did.”
“You are falling asleep on your feet.”
“I am actually falling asleep on a tripod—my two feet and you.”
“Jane? Did you?—?”
“She is coming back to Longbourn in Bingley’s less showy carriage, with a maid. She should be here very soon.”
“Oh, thank you!”
Elizabeth smugly told herself that she knew how it would be. Somehow, despite all the risk-taking on Jane’s part and all the perfidy on Mr Wickham’s part—even, somehow, despite poor Darcy’s exhaustion—he had managed to find her sister.
Leading him inside, Elizabeth saw him settled on the most spacious sofa. A thousand questions flitted through her mind, but she asked none of them. Instead, she boldly removed his boots and lifted his legs onto the sofa, and she covered him with a blanket. He fell asleep mere moments later.
Trying to remember the steps she had seen Darcy use the day before to start a banked fire, Elizabeth carefully, and sometimes awkwardly, copied every motion as she remembered it. She was able to foster a sputtering little fire, and she felt quite proud.
Still crouched by the fire, ready to add a few more logs, Elizabeth listened for the sound of carriage wheels. She heard sounds outside—a few birds, the ornery rooster that always crowed when the sky was barely greying, a gentle nicker that she was able to identify by peeking out the parlour window, as Darcy’s horse being rubbed down by Sam, the boy who worked in the Longbourn stables. She did not yet hear indications of Jane’s arrival.…
Still, she wished to ensure her homecoming would be as silent and unnoticed as possible.
Moving away from the fire and to the little hallway window, Elizabeth kept watch. When the carriage rolled up to the front steps, she ran out to help her sister down without waiting for the step; she murmured her thanks to the driver, the footman, and the maid, and she hustled Jane into the house. The carriage made a turn on the drive and then headed back to Netherfield.
She quietly bundled Jane up the stairs and into their bedroom. She had no desire to ask Jane her thousand questions; she was not certain she would trust the answers. Perhaps surprisingly, Jane did not seem to want to talk, either.
As soon as she had helped Jane don her nightgown and then climb into bed, Elizabeth went back downstairs and sat on the floor, next to the sofa where Darcy slept, wanting to be near the best man she had ever known.
Of course, it was not the height of propriety for Elizabeth to be alone in a room with her suitor, and most of the family did not even know, at this point, that Darcywasher suitor. (Or would be soon? She remembered that Darcy had said that he needed to handle Mr Wickham first, and she had no idea if that had happened. Certainly, that blackguard was the subject of a majority of Elizabeth’s many questions.)
But she just sat there, near Darcy, watching over him, propriety or not. She readLady of the Lakeat times, and when the two maids and Hill went in and out of the room, she acknowledged them with silent nods.
Hill brought her a cup of tea with lemon and honey. Mary was the first family member to discover her; she crouched down to give her a quiet hug. Elizabeth whispered to her, “In case you did not know, Jane is here.” She cast her eyes upwards to indicate where “here” was.
Her father came in from his bookroom, looking years older than he had just a few mornings ago. He stood in the doorway and wagged his eyebrows at her, as if he was demanding information, and she mouthedJaneand pointed upstairs.
Mr Bennet looked vastly relieved and a bit more himself.
Elizabeth’s first realisation that Darcy had awakened was his arm snaking around her waist and boosting her up towards him. She spun about on her knees and, dropping her book, cupped his cheeks with both hands. “How are you feeling?” she asked softly.
Darcy tried to speak, but his voice must have caught somewhere in his dry throat. She had a bit of tea left and insisted he drink it, and then she hustled to bring him some cool well water. He sat up and drank down the entire glassful.
“Tea or coffee?” she offered. “And do you need to eat?”
He chuckled a little, suddenly looking years younger. Then he made an exaggeratedly contemplative face and said, “Hmm…I think I want coffee…and Lizzy!”
She shot him a smile as she hastened to the kitchen. “Hill, Mr Darcy is awake. He wants coffee, and he takes it with a bit of milk but no sugar. And…he did not say he was hungry, but maybe a tray with a few foods? He has done this family an incredible service.”
