Elizabeth was almost dancing with impatience by the time the door opened again, but she could see that the situation had changed for the better. Her father, though pale and exhausted, was breathing much more easily, and the cough that still racked his frame did not, at least to her, appear to be as strong. The window was still open and the air, though cold, was clean and fresh. The heavy blankets about his shoulders apparently protected him from the worst of the chill.
When he saw Elizabeth, he held out his hand. “I am sorry to have spoiled your pleasure, child.” His voice was hoarse.
“I am sorry to find you so unwell, sir.” She dropped to her knees beside him.
“I am feeling more than a little foolish now, for I was sure…my last hour had come.”
“I am afraid you cannot be spared just yet awhile,” she replied. His eyes were drifting shut, even as he coughed, so she kissed his forehead, and tiptoed from the room, leaving Jessup to replace the candles and keep watch. Elizabeth turned to Captain Darcy. “We are deeply indebted to you, sir,” she said. “How did you know what to do?”
“I had a shipmate afflicted with a terrible cough, poor fellow, every time we exercised the guns and the ship filled with smoke. Strong coffee was the only thing that helped him, and I thought it might do the same here. Come—you must sit down; you look exhausted.”
“Just for a moment, then, for I must go and inform Mama what has happened and make ready for Doctor Wallace, thoughindeed there seems very little for him to do now. I wonder that he has not tried coffee himself.”
“I am afraid the effects are not long lasting, and our surgeon, Mr Luscombe, always says coffee puts a strain on the heart if used to excess. However, since Mr Bennet was having difficulty breathing, I thought it well worth the attempt.”
“Indeed it was, sir.” Having sat down, Elizabeth was starting to feel extremely tired. “I am afraid I am too tired and flustered to say everything I ought, but I am very grateful. We all are.”
“Pray, think nothing of it, Miss Elizabeth. Now, if you wish to go and tell your mother, I will wait here for the doctor.”
It took a long time to calm and reassure her mother, and when that was done, Mrs Bennet retired for the night, Sarah at last being released from the sickroom. When Elizabeth came down, Doctor Wallace was with her father, and he did not come out of the room until the Longbourn carriage arrived from Netherfield. Jane in particular was consumed with anxiety for her father, and even Kitty and Lydia were frightened into something resembling a respectful silence.
Mr Collins seemed torn between resentment at having been excluded from the events of the evening and gratification that Lady Catherine’s nephew had condescended to assist. His confused attempt to express his gratitude only succeeded in angering Elizabeth and astonishing the captain, who stood looking down on the shorter man as though at some curiosity in a museum.
Elizabeth, in all the bustle, managed a brief word with Doctor Wallace. “I do not apprehend any immediate danger,” said the doctor in his blunt Scottish way. “However, he cannot be said to be improving, nor can I see any hope of such improvement before the good weather comes, if indeed his strength lasts that long.” And with that, he climbed heavily into his gig and trotted off into the night.
It seemed to take an age to persuade everyone to retire. Once assured that the worst had not happened, Kitty and Lydia were full of the ball, and even Mary had apparently enjoyed herself more than usual. Elizabeth had to shoo them upstairs to continue the conversation in their rooms. Jane seemed tired and pensive, and Mr Collins admitted to some fatigue and eventually drifted off to bed.
Elizabeth went into the library for one last check on her father and was startled to see Captain Darcy sitting beside him. He rose as she entered the room. “Your father’s man has just gone to see to his chamber,” he whispered. “I agreed to stay here until he gets back.”
“Surely, Mr Hill, our manservant, came back with the doctor?”
“He was caught in a shower on the way there. I sent him to shift his clothes.” They sat for a moment in silence, watching the rise and fall of Mr Bennet’s chest, both noting the unmistakable hitch in his breathing.
“I cannot thank you enough, Captain Darcy. I do not know what we would have done without you.”
“I have every confidence that you would have managed, Miss Elizabeth. I have always considered you a very capable young lady.”
She smiled. “Not the compliment a lady expects from a dancing partner, but welcome none the less.”
“It is nothing less than the truth, I assure you.”
Jessup and Mr Hill appeared at the door, and Elizabeth and the captain left the room, the captain picking up his greatcoat as he went. The horses from Netherfield were being walked outside, and at his hail, the coachman hurried to hitch them up once more.
“With your permission, I shall call tomorrow to see how your father does.”
“You will be very welcome.” She remained while he climbed into the coach and it was driven away. She watched until it disappeared from view among the trees then finally closed and bolted the great front door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
By ten o’clock next morning, Elizabeth was persuaded that her period of grace was about to expire. Mrs Bennet was late down for breakfast, and Mr Collins did not appear at all, but there was an air of determination about her mother, and when Elizabeth heard her telling Hill to ask Mr Collins to come and meet her in the back parlour as soon as he came down, there was little doubt in her mind as to the probable subject of their conversation.
The sun was out, and while it was cold, it was at least not raining, and Elizabeth decided to seize the chance for a little outdoor exercise while she yet could. She was just about to leave the garden by the gate to the wood when she saw the Netherfield carriage arrive and Captain Darcy, supported by one of his sailors, climb out and seek admission to the house. By the time she had removed her coat and outdoor boots, the captain had been admitted to the library, the sailor remaining seated in the hall, his broad-brimmed hat with a ribbon readingAchillesabout it, resting on his knees.
She could hear the sound of men’s voices from within and thought about joining them. However, unwilling to fatigue her father with too many visitors at once, she went into the parlourinstead and started on the household accounts, which had been somewhat neglected of late. She felt oddly nervous, and although she would have scorned to listen at the door, she found herself trying to catch some sense of the conversation from the tone of their voices. This, as she told herself impatiently, was ridiculous, even if she could distinguish the captain’s deeper tones from her father’s husky baritone. At least her father’s cough seemed to be under control this morning. Firmly, she turned her attention to the bill of sea coal, which would have been excessive if it had not been essential to keep the fires burning for her father.
She was so engrossed in her search for an errant two shillings and eleven pence, three farthings, that at first she did not hear Mr Hill coughing to attract her attention. Startled, she raised her head and then got to her feet as he announced, “Captain Darcy to see you, Miss Elizabeth.”
He came into the room, resting on the arm of his man, and bowed carefully. “Good morning,” he said. “I have your father’s permission for a private meeting with you, and if I may have your permission to sit, perhaps Anderssen might have a whet in your kitchen while we talk.”
