Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (109 page)

“Where are you going?”  Darcy said with a barely perceptible croak and gripped Elizabeth when she started to rise.  “Please stay.”

“You are awake, I hoped you would sleep some more.  It took so long for you to drop off.”  She caressed his swollen face pillowed on her breast and kissing his brow, felt for fever.  “I was just going to open the draperies, and I have some hot water bottles.  Are they helping your back?” 

“It feels surprisingly good.  One of the few spots that does.  Now I understand your fondness for warmth.”  He opened his eyes and tried to smile, but even that seemed to hurt.  “This was definitely worse than falling from a horse.”  They read each other’s eyes and both felt their emotions welling up.

Elizabeth kissed him gently, “Do you remember more of what happened?” 

“Not clearly.  I saw that you were safe.  That was the image I clung to.”  Taking her hand he spoke to her ring as he rubbed it with his thumb.  “The curricle overturned and . . . it seemed to almost act as a shield.  I was pressed against the cushion and I hung onto the frame so I would not be crushed by the carriage as I rode down the slope . . . I am not sure, I must have met a rock or tree and was left insensible.  When I came around I found that I was wedged in a crevice, and could not hope to move.  I could hear a great deal of activity, but . . . I was drifting in and out of consciousness, I think.  I called but nobody seemed to hear me.  It was so cold and it was so hard to take a breath.  I suppose that what I thought was bellowing was probably a whisper.”  Darcy looked up to her.  “Am I whispering now?”

“Yes,” Caressing his hair she felt a small lump on the back of his head.  “It is the softest of voices.  And I am grateful that I can hear it.”

“So am I.”  He touched her face and she leaned down to tenderly kiss him.  Darcy tried to draw a full breath and winced.  “I swear that I was becoming delusional, my father seemed to be sitting on a rock nearby, keeping me company.”  His eyes closed.  “I sound mad.”

“I am glad that you were not alone.” 

Looking back up to her, one side of his face managed to lift up.  “I talked to you quite a lot.  We were making plans for all that we would do this summer and . . . in the future.”

“I was doing the same thing; I think that you and I are the only ones who thought we had a future to plan.  It was the safest place for me to be, talking with you.”  Straightening she spoke determinedly, “When you feel better, I want you to tell me everything that you imagined.  All of the picnics we will take, and how you will teach me to ride properly because I was pitiful yesterday . . . and I want you to tell me the names of our children that you invented.  And then . . . and then I can tell you the names that I chose and we may argue about them.”  Elizabeth gently wiped the tears that appeared in the corners of his eyes and kissed him while Darcy tried valiantly to control his emotion.  She touched the cut that the reins had made across his cheek and combed back the hair that fell across his brow.  “The physician should be here soon.  Evans sent for him at dawn.  It was too dark to send for him last night.” 

“I think that seeing a physician frightens me more than the fall.”  Darcy’s reddened eyes opened to find that her cheeks were wet.   “You were supposed to smile, dearest.  You must teach me how to improve my teases.” 

“Mrs. Darcy’s School for Teasing Discontented Wives.”  She smiled a little through her tears.

“Absolutely.”  Darcy touched a bruise on her face. “And another for teasing recalcitrant husbands.”

“Mrs. Darcy?”  Parker appeared.  “Mr. Fleming is arrived.”

“Oh, I will meet him.”  Squeezing his hand, she helped Darcy to settle onto a pillow and kissed him when she stood.  “Stay right there.  Shall I give you your pocket watch to time me?  I shall always make sure that it is with you from this day on.”

“I trust you will not be long.  And I promise; I will be right here waiting.”  Darcy watched her go and at last allowed the full expression of pain to appear on his face.  Parker opened the draperies and hurriedly went to work, preparing him for the examination.  “How poorly do I look?  She seems so hesitant when she touches me.”  Darcy whispered.

“Shall I fetch you a hand mirror, sir?” 

“Please.”  He coughed and regretted it instantly, then feeling Parker by his side, looked at his reflection.  “No wonder she cries, I am the monster of nightmares.”  He tried to smile.

“Well, one good thing comes of this, sir.”  Parker set down the glass and resumed his work.  “You just may be too bruised to make a trip to London.”  He leaned and spoke softly in Darcy’s ear.  “You may foil Lady Matlock’s plans.”  Straightening, he plumped up the pillows and caught Darcy’s eye.  “Forgive my impertinence, sir.”

“Please Parker; I am trying mightily not to laugh.  But thank you for the pleasant thought.  And thank you for looking after Mrs. Darcy.  I heard Evans and Mrs. Reynolds speaking of your loyalty to both of us sometime during the night.”

“It was my honour sir.  Mrs. Darcy was extraordinary.  Her tongue was quite sharp.”  He nodded and turned quickly away, busying himself with the various bottles laid out by the bed. 

“She was terrified; you always know by the way she speaks.  I learned that lesson the hard way.”  He said quietly and looked out of the window to where he could see the remains of the curricle hanging on the hillside, its bright paint standing out against the new snow.  Up on the roadbed he saw that the damaged coach still sat.  “I was dumbfounded when I heard about the coach crashing.”

“We were not going to say anything to you last night.”  Parker murmured.  “Mrs. Darcy was most frustrated that you would not sleep, but knew it was no use to not answer your questions once you had the thought in your head.”

“I will have to write to Henry’s sister, but I know that he always hoped to be buried at Kympton.”

“You spoke of that, sir?”  Parker’s gaze went to the coach. 

“Yes, fairly recently, too.  It was the day that he drove me to visit Father’s valet, he made mention of the crypt and how beautiful it was, and that since he had no wife or children, he hoped to be laid to rest at Kympton.  He considered the people of Pemberley to be his family.  It will be a privilege to honour his request.”  Darcy’s eyes closed.  “He should not be gone.”

“He died the way that he wanted to, sir.  He loved driving those coaches.  Many a conversation I had with him over the years when you were travelling from place to place.  He would be proud that none of his passengers and none of his horses were lost.”  Nodding, Darcy sank into the pain of his wounds.  Parker hesitated and plunged on.  “I . . . I wonder at Mr. Christmas’s presence, sir.  It was quite a shock to see his face beneath that blanket.”

Darcy reanimated.  “I cannot fathom it.  When I heard his name being spoken it took me a few moments to remember where I had heard it before.  Perhaps he hoped to gain employment here?  But Mrs. Hutchins would have written ahead . . . Do you think . . .? Did he hear anything of Miss Darcy when he was visiting?  The staff knew nothing of what was happening, only you, correct?”

“Yes, sir, and I certainly never breathed a word of it, least of all to a stranger such as he.  I understand that there was nothing unusual on his person.”  Parker frowned.  “Do you suspect ill-intent?”

“I do not know what to suspect at this point.”  Their eyes met and he sighed.  “I had time to consider what had happened as I lay on the ridge and tried to stay awake.  I did not know the man, but I remember his voice startling the horses, and I swear that he screamed ‘bastard.’”

“At you, sir?”

“I do not know, and I dread asking my wife.”  They looked to the door where they heard her voice.  “But thanks to her, I am alive to dread the asking.”

“I SHOULD LIKE TO EXAMINE YOU AS WELL, Mrs. Darcy.”  Mr. Fleming looked over the exhausted woman with great concern.  “You are clearly suffering.”

“My husband saved me from a violently moving curricle, sir.”  Elizabeth waved her hand.  “I am bruised, not broken.  And when my husband’s pain is managed, I will surely sleep along with him.  Now then sir, I wish to ask a favour of you.”

“Certainly.  What is it?”  Mr. Fleming’s head cocked curiously. 

Lowering her voice, Elizabeth leaned in closely.  “I believe that my husband’s most grievous wound is bruising to his chest.  Would you please take the opportunity during your examination to listen to his heart?  His father died of apoplexy and his uncle spoke of the physician detecting the unusual heartbeat . . . please sir, I want to protect him.  If you detect anything concerning . . .”

An understanding smile lifted his mouth.   “I see.  I imagine that Mr. Darcy would never ask for such an examination himself.”

“Oh, no.  Nothing could
ever
be wrong with him!  He must be thrown down a mountain for him to admit that!”  She said with no small amount of exasperation. 

“Do not speak too harshly of him, madam.  No man wishes to profess weakness to the woman he loves.  I understand that he was left for dead on that hillside for nearly five hours?  Well, if he had chosen to he easily could have succumbed to despair.  He obviously has something to live for.  He was determined.”  He lifted his brows and before she could respond he added, “Thankfully that something was an equally determined woman.  I believe that the tales of your love for your husband will be told all over Derbyshire before the week is out.”  Elizabeth blushed and he nodded.  “Well, let me take a look at him.”  Opening the door, he entered the room, followed closely by Elizabeth.   “Good morning, sir!”

“Mr. Fleming.”  Darcy whispered.

“You look as if you received a sound thrashing.”  He lifted his chin, and gently examined the wounds on his face.  “Ugly, but I think that you will heal up in a few days.  No need for stitches . . . well . . .” He leaned in, “hmm, you will have some scarring on your cheek, but it really is not too deep.  Quite fortunate, I have seen the effects of flogging with a strap.  That can really lay a man’s skin open and lead to countless horrors.”

“It felt like fire when it happened.”  Darcy murmured and seeing Elizabeth’s wide eyes, decided not to give any greater descriptions with her present.  Mr. Fleming caught the look and turned to Elizabeth.  “Mrs. Darcy, I insist that you receive an examination.  Would you mind leaving us to prepare and wait in your chambers?  I know that I must stop at the dower house as well.  I want to work as expeditiously as possible.  I regret that I was not here with you earlier.”

“But I want to stay with my husband!”  She protested.

“Go on, dear.  We do not want to delay him treating Uncle and Samuel.”  Darcy smiled slightly and breathed a sigh of relief when she reluctantly departed.  “Thank you, sir.  I know you will undoubtedly be causing pain as you seek to relieve it.  She does not need any more images to dwell upon.”

“She is a worrier.  Not a terrible quality in a wife.”  Mr. Fleming chuckled and Parker drew back the covers, revealing Darcy’s naked and badly bruised body.  “Merciful heaven.  I take back my flippant remark about you receiving a thrashing.  How is the pain?”  Darcy’s eyes closed.  The physician accepted his stoic silence and went to work.   He drew his fingers over the marks and looked up to Darcy.  “No sharp pain in your extremities?  I see countless bruises, but no unusual swelling.  I do not believe I see evidence of breaks.”

“I am able to walk, it is my chest . . .” He touched the deep ugly bruise on his side. 

“Have you coughed up blood?”  Darcy shook his head and looked at Evans, who agreed.  Nodding, the physician laid his hands over him, looking for signs that his skin was puffed from air escaping the lungs.  Using two fingers, he felt along the ribs to find the centre of the pain and pressed down.  Darcy cried out and wordlessly, Mr. Fleming laid his head on his chest, listening for the telltale grating sound of broken bone.  Hearing nothing, he moved his head to the left and listened to Darcy’s heart, closing his eyes to concentrate on the sound.  Then smiling, he stood upright.  “Well some good news, you may have received a good crack in the chest, but I heard no evidence of a fracture.  Ribs are amazing in their elasticity.” 

“So what does that mean?  Why is there such pain?”  Darcy croaked and shivered in the cold air.

“Well, it hurts to breathe, but you are not screaming when I press down.”  He pressed on the spot to demonstrate and Darcy gasped sharply.  “You see, if it were broken, you should be wishing to throttle me now.”

“Do not assume my feelings, sir.”  Darcy coughed and winced again as he glared and rubbed at the spot.

Smiling, Mr. Fleming went to his bag and pulled out a bottle and a lancet.  “I would say it is a very severe bruise and in a few days the tenderness will subside.  In a few weeks, there will be no trace of it at all.  Even if it was a bit cracked, it would heal on its own within six weeks or so.  You will know by next week which one you have, but I lay odds on the former.”  Pricking his skin with the lancet, Darcy jumped.  “A bit of morphine for the pain.  Not too much.  You can follow this with a few drops of laudanum in a glass of wine, again, only to make it tolerable.  I do not hold with having my patients comatose.  I will be by tomorrow to check on your progress and give you another dose if necessary.”  Closing up his bag he leaned over a table to write out his instructions as Parker dressed Darcy in his nightshirt.  “You had an angel watching you, Mr. Darcy.  Why you do not have a broken neck is a miracle.  You will heal up soon.  Just sleep on your side and nothing strenuous for a few weeks.”  He glanced meaningfully at the door to Elizabeth’s chambers.  “I mean,
nothing
, though by the way you look and feel, I doubt that marital relations are a priority.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fleming.”  Darcy said as a blush joined the bruises on his face.

“By the way, your heart sounds fine.”  He chuckled to see Darcy’s surprise.  “I will convey that to your wife.” 

“Lizzy . . .” He sighed and admitted, “It hurts sometimes.  Just recently.” 

“So it is not her fancy.  When you are angry, or feeling pressed, do you feel a slight paroxysm?”  Darcy nodded.  “Well, all seems well right now.  Let me know if it changes.  Or if you are in London, speak with your physician there and ask him about angina.  If the pain is not difficult you might try a mustard plaster since morphine may not be close at hand; or twenty drops of laudanum if it is truly causing you panic and dread.”