One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (43 page)

Colonel Fitzwilliam bent and began to lift Elizabeth from the other side, as Mr. Bennet arrived at the spot and aided in raising her from behind. As soon as she was upright, the men released her, and Darcy was obliged to steady and support her once again as she wobbled on legs suddenly weak.

Mr. Bennet, on seeing this, stepped forward and removed his daughter from the gentleman's grasp, whereupon he assisted Elizabeth alone into the next room, jealously guarding her against additional aid from either Mr. Darcy or Colonel Fitzwilliam. The footmen had arrived with the chaise and placed it at Bingley's direction near the fireplace. Elizabeth was set down upon it, despite her feeble protests that she was well. She was not well, however, and after her attempt to rise up resulted in another near collapse, she agreed, at her father's insistence, to recline on the lounge.

Mr. Bennet closed the doors to the salon and conferred with Bingley and Darcy on what must be done. Bingley's distress was severe as he bemoaned that the only bedchamber not currently in use by residents or guests of Netherfield was the nursery, and it was filled with unused furnishings at present and not nearly ready for use as a sick room.

Loud evidence of Mrs. Bennet's nervous condition suddenly filled the room as Jane entered with a glass of negus and a napkin. Thankfully, the sound faded again when the door closed behind her. She moistened the cloth and pressed the cool compress gently against Elizabeth's forehead and cheeks as she soothed her sister, and encouraged her to sip from the cup.

For her part, Elizabeth's fevered mind was beginning to comprehend what had occurred, and her mortification at the knowledge was acute. Coupled with the debilitating nature of the symptoms that had overtaken her, she keenly felt her inability to demonstrate her fitness, or even to object to decisions being made for her without so much as offering a choice or asking her approval.

Had she been in a state to do so, she would have insisted on being heard, but it was difficult to keep her eyes open or to speak, and soon she involuntarily dozed under Jane's ministrations.

At length, a knock on the door was followed by the entrance of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had come to inquire after Elizabeth on behalf of her mother. It was now evident that Elizabeth was gravely ill with a fever. The colonel felt for her pulse and declaring it to be dangerously low and rapid, insisted that they send for the apothecary as a matter of urgency. When Mr. Bingley explained the dilemma of the lack of a bedchamber for Elizabeth, Colonel Fitzwilliam immediately volunteered to vacate the room he was lodged in to accommodate her.

Mr. Darcy began to challenge him for the honor, but a glance at Mr. Bennet silenced him, for there was a ferocious look in his eye that brooked no argument—his favorite daughter would
not
be nursed at Netherfield.

The colonel excused himself to return to Mrs. Bennet, and as he opened the door, Mr. Collins stood in his way, with an evident expectation of gaining entrance to the salon.

“Excuse me,” said the parson with a sanctimonious tone, “I have come to ascertain the condition of my cousin's daughter and to console with her in her hour of need, for indeed, a swoon is a most distressing event, and I am certain that my presence would offer her welcome comfort and serenity of mind.” He tried to step past Colonel Fitzwilliam, but the colonel did not allow him passage.

“She is unwell,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “It would be best for her to rest. Her sister is caring for her at present, and she is well attended.”

“You do not understand,” Mr. Collins countered, his face reddening at the rebuff. “On the morrow, I intend to offer for her hand and in this have been encouraged by her most excellent mother and my noble patroness, your very own aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Under this certainty of intention, it is imperative that I am at the side of the companion of my future life in such an hour as this. It is my right and my obligation.”

“Mr. Collins,” the colonel replied patiently, “I mean no disrespect, but you are not betrothed to Miss Elizabeth at this hour, and therefore not entitled to the access you seek. She is not to be disturbed.”

“Fitzwilliam!” Lady Catherine appeared suddenly behind Collins and pushed her way past the parson without ceremony. “What is this? What goes on in this room, Nephew? Am I to understand that the young lady has taken ill?”

“You are correct, Aunt. She is indeed ill.” Fitzwilliam nodded, as he continued protectively blocking entrance to the salon.

“This is highly irregular!” Lady Catherine's temper began to rise. “How dare she risk Anne's health in such a thoughtless and callous manner? This is not to be borne! She must be removed from this house at once! What is being done? Has her carriage been called for?” She fired the questions off without waiting for any response. “You must remain as far away from her as possible. I know of these things! Where is Darcy?” She tried to peer past the colonel into the room. “That young lady must be dispatched this very hour!”

The colonel stepped forward, forcing his aunt to take a step back, allowing him to close the door firmly behind himself. “Arrangements are being made, Aunt. We must not interfere.”

Lady Catherine sniffed. “Anne and I shall not stay at the ball! Advise Mr. Bingley that we have gone to our rooms and shall most certainly not return to the lower floors of this house until tomorrow noon, providing that Miss Bennet is no longer on the premises. I will not risk Anne!” She turned on her heel, and beckoning to a reluctant but obedient Anne, they quit the ball.

~*~

With Elizabeth removed to the salon, the ball proceeded for most of the guests. For those who had not seen it, it seemed as if nothing had happened at all, although the amiable and solicitous host was notably absent from the festivities, along with Mr. Bennet, Jane, Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Mr. Bingley strove mightily and unsuccessfully to convince Mr. Bennet to allow Elizabeth to stay at Netherfield, as her condition was deteriorating rapidly. The apothecary, Mr. Jones, eventually arrived and settled the argument, for he declared that she was not fit to be moved farther than to a bed in the same house. He declared her to be in great danger from a putrid infection that would be made worse by the cold air that would certainly be encountered should they attempt to transport her on a winter night. Jones consoled them with assurances that her youth and strength of constitution would work in her favor; with proper care, she would likely recover completely.

In hushed tones so as not to disturb her, the two cousins resumed the debate over which would sacrifice their apartment to make room for Elizabeth. Although Colonel Fitzwilliam was formidable on the battlefield, his tenacity was no match for the determination of Mr. Darcy, and the housekeeper was ordered to ready Mr. Darcy's suite for its new occupant with all haste. This exercise was watched with a degree of severity by Mr. Bennet, for whether he perceived it or imagined it, he nonetheless observed a significant attachment to his daughter in the chivalry of the men and had the fleeting thought that he would be wise to guard the door of her room. It was only fleeting, however, for he rapidly concluded that it would be too much trouble to execute such a precaution. Moreover, as these were respectable gentlemen, surely it was unnecessary.

Elizabeth, in the meantime, fell into a fitful, nearly delirious slumber. As her angelic sister Jane did her best to make her comfortable. Jane gently removed her necklace and earrings, then took the pins and ornaments from her hair, combed the locks with her fingers and twisted them into a loose braid.

When the housekeeping staff announced that the room had been made ready, the cousins once again were at odds. Neither Mr. Bingley nor Mr. Bennet possessed sufficient strength to carry an adult lady up the stairs, and none were inclined to entrust the task to the footmen. The remaining candidates for the transport were therefore Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. After some quiet, yet animated, discussion between the two in the corner, Darcy approached Mr. Bennet and offered to carry Elizabeth upstairs under close observation by her father, lest any question of impropriety be raised. Mr. Bennet reluctantly conceded, his concern for Elizabeth overruling any concern about appearances.

Darcy slipped his arms beneath Elizabeth and lifted, cradling her against his chest, as Bingley opened a side-door that led to the stairway. Mr. Bennet followed immediately behind. Jane too followed, for she was to stay and offer the same service to Elizabeth that her sister had performed for her one month earlier in the same household.

Darcy was outwardly calm, his face inscrutable as he rapidly made his way down the hall and up the stairs, trailed by her worried father and sister, but what thoughts were racing through his mind! The heat of her fever could be felt through all their layers of clothing, particularly where her head pressed against him. He looked downward and saw rivulets of perspiration trailing slowly down her forehead, and he knew that her danger from the fever was significant. He could feel, too, her heartbeat, fluttering and racing as though paced by a hummingbird's wings. He remembered the same from when Anne had contracted the fever that had stolen her health. A grim, dark spirit of fear nearly overtook him, but he rallied.
 
Elizabeth is strong
, he told himself.
 
She will not be weakened as Anne was
.

When Darcy placed her on the bed, the faded impressions of a hundred forgotten dreams pressed hard upon him. This was not the vibrant Elizabeth of those dreams, and yet carrying her in his arms up the stairs, her breath warming his breast, her body nestled against his stirred a visceral response. The very act of lowering her into his bed excited strange feelings of tenderness, protectiveness and longing that he knew must not be revealed to anyone, lest by his thoughts alone she would somehow be compromised.

He stood and excused himself from the room with the civility of a stranger, leaving her to the care of her father, sister and the apothecary. In his heart and mind was a vow that never again would he be obliged to leave her side at such a time; although he was not at liberty to declare it, he
 
knew, truly knew, that
 
she needed him
.

~*~

The remaining hours of darkness had been an ordeal for Jane. After the men had quit the room, Jane removed Elizabeth's gown, gloves and slippers and worked relentlessly to cool the fever that raged in her sister.

Elizabeth moaned, muttered and mumbled as she tossed weakly in the bed throughout the night. Jane could not distinguish most of what her sister said, but one truth was evident. Descended into the confused dream-state of delirium, Elizabeth was obsessed with Mr. Darcy. She spoke unintelligible words meant for him, she grumbled about him, and, most confusing to Jane, she called out for him with alarming frequency.

Had they been at Longbourn, Jane fretted, this would be easily concealed. At Netherfield, however, discretion with such a secret would be impossible to ensure, for as soon as a servant or visitor observed her and heard her speak, it could not be kept from anyone. Although it was a simple matter to excuse the words as coming from a fevered mind, it was also evident to Jane that the foundation of these ramblings was, in fact, solidly laid.

Jane locked the bedroom door, lest anyone enter and unwittingly find Elizabeth undressed or, even worse,
 
discover her secret, for as Jane thought upon the constitution of the household at present, there was but one she felt she could trust with it. She hoped that Mr. Bingley would come to speak with her soon, for she was certain that he would know what to do. He would know how to protect Elizabeth from his sisters and from Lady Catherine and her daughter. Jane hardly believed them capable of malice, but she knew that Elizabeth would object if they were aware of what she indelicately uttered in an unguarded state.

If Elizabeth would not wish those ladies to know of it, how much less would she wish for Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam to hear of it? How was she to safeguard her sister's dignity alone? Bingley would be discrete, she thought, and she needed an ally in the house. She would seek his counsel at first light.

~*~

Mr. Darcy had returned to the ball. The only persons remaining were in the card room, constituting mostly officers from the militia, and a few local families, including the Bennets. Mrs. Bennet was excessively displeased that Jane had not been able to dance again with Bingley and that Elizabeth was to stay at Netherfield. She had no comprehension of the severity of her daughter's condition, and seemed to think it nothing at all that Elizabeth would have a 'little fever.'

The person most distressed at Elizabeth's unscheduled removal from Longbourn, however, was Mr. Collins, who, having given up at playing cards, sat forlornly in the drawing room with Mary, who was doing her best to cheer him with assurances that this adversity would strengthen them and that the lesson to guard one's health must be learned by all. Faith, she told him, must be the order of the day.