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"So you may put yourself in danger, but I cannot?" she said with a sad smile. "I have had the measles, Darcy. You needn't worry. I will sit with you. Or preferably, I will tend to your sister myself while you keep yourself safe."

"You understand I cannot do that," he said, grasping onto her hands like they were a lifeline and he was a man drowning at sea.

She nodded. "I do." For she knew that if it was Jane in that bed, or any one of her sisters, she would have been exactly the same.

And so began a long night's vigil, sitting on either side of Miss Georgiana Darcy's bed, willing her not to succumb to this illness.

Elizabeth must have fallen asleep in the chair she was sitting in, for she became aware of herself, feeling very uncomfortable, and when she blinked, there was daylight, and the doctor had returned.

She hurriedly sat up, smoothed out her dressing gown, making sure she was appropriately covered, and then listened to what he was telling Darcy.

"She is no worse, Darcy. That is a good sign."

"But she is no better," Darcy said, clenching his hand into a fist of frustration. "She is no better, Doctor. I have watched her all night, and there has been no improvement."

"You must give it time," the doctor said kindly. "Her body must fight this. You are doing everything you can. I know it is hard, but I am heartened that she has not worsened overnight."

"You should get some sleep, Darcy," Elizabeth said, once the doctor had left.

"I can't leave her," he repeated.

"You are no use to her if you collapse from exhaustion," she said. "I have slept. I don't know how, but I have. I will stay... I will come and get you, I promise, if anything changes. Please, have an hour."

She could not bear to see him looking so broken. It felt like his pain was her pain. It was as though she would do anything in the world to make this better for him. She wanted Georgiana to be well because she loved her, as she loved all her sisters, but she also wanted her to get better because it broke her heart to see Darcy so afflicted.

Chapter Forty-Five

Darcy didn't think he would sleep, and yet the next thing he knew, Elizabeth was shaking his arm, and the light outside the window had certainly changed.

He sat bolt upright, noting that she was still in her nightclothes and she obviously had not left Georgiana to change.

"What is it?" he said. "What has happened? Is she worse?"

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, bumping into Elizabeth as he did so, and she placed both hands on his shoulders as though to calm him.

"Breathe, Darcy," she said.

He took a deep breath and then stood, feeling dizzy. Was it from too much sleep or too little? He had no idea what time it was.

"Is she worse?" he asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. "She is awake. She is tired and aching and groggy, but she is awake."

Darcy hurried down the corridor, still feeling disoriented from the deep sleep he had been in and then had been disturbed from.

Georgiana's door was ajar, and he followed Elizabeth in, overcome by a wave of emotion at the sight of her eyes open. She looked pale, and the rash was very apparent, but her eyes were open, and when she saw him, she managed a weak smile.

"Georgiana," he stuttered, kneeling down next to her bed. "How do you feel? I've been so worried."

"You worry too much, brother," she said softly, her voice sounding thin.

"About you? Yes," he said. "I always will."

"Have you slept at all?" she asked, holding her hand to his cheek for a moment. "You have dark circles under your eyes."

"A little," he said. "Elizabeth made me."

Georgiana smiled. "Good. She's good for you, brother."