Page 23 of Roses from Pemberley
At one point, so tired from lack of sleep, he said truthfully to Elizabeth, “I love you. Even if you never accept me. I shallalways love you.” He was so weary, it seemed, that he lost his ability to filter his words. Perhaps that was why he had been so honest over the past few days.
Some time close to midnight he was awakened by Charlotte Collins who put a hand on his shoulder and told him it was time to return home.
“You have done all you can, Mr. Darcy. And the doctor says she will be well. I shall stay with Lizzy now. And perhaps you may call again in the morning.”
He looked questioningly at her and she added, “Yes, the doctor is nearly certain she shall be well. Her fever is much lower and she is sleeping soundly.”
He blinked, as she smiled reassuringly at him.
“Well then…I shall take my leave.” He stood up and stretched his limbs. “Goodnight, then, Mrs. Collins.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Darcy.”
He walked down the stairs and out of the house, then stood at the front garden and stared up at her room. The light was gone, now, so Charlotte Collins must have put out the candles. It felt strange to be leaving her, after having spent so many hours by her side. He did not like this uncertainty, the knowledge that something might change and that he would not be there for it. If he could, he would simply have slept in the garden. He wished to remain nearby till there was absolutely no doubt that she would be well. But unfortunately that was not possible.
Thus, he walked along the dark lane to Rosings, wondering how early he could return the following morning. Once there, he was let in by the Mr. Cullen, went straight to his room and fell upon the bed, waving even his valet away. He awoke at dawn, removed his boots, then fell back into bed again. For once he slept but did not dream.
When he awoke the next morning, it was already past ten (more than two hours beyond his usual time to rise.) He called for his valet, was shaved and dressed then went down to the breakfast parlour. Everyone else was already there.
“Darcy,” said Lady Catherine, “you are up late. Does this have anything to do with your spending the whole of yesterday at the parsonage?”
“You know it does, Aunt,” he said wearily.
“Well, Mr. Collins has already come and gone. And he says that Miss Elizabeth has awakened.”
“Oh, has she, Mother?” said Anne. “I am glad to hear it.”
“You do not seem to mind, Daughter,” said Lady Catherine, “that Darcy is abandoning you in favour of a lady who is so far beneath you.”
“Oh I do not mind, Mother. For it was I who abandoned Darcy, if you will recall.” She gave him a sidelong glance and a wink.
“Well then,” said Bingley, “shall we call at the parsonage today?”
“Making progress with the lovely Miss Bennet, are we?” asked Richard.
Bingley blushed but only smiled and began to eat his food more rapidly.
Darcy, on the other hand, was not certain he wished to go at all. For Elizabeth had not really seen him since the day he proposed. And he imagined that her opinion of him remained the same. Nor did he wish to impede her recovery.
“Perhaps…I shall call tomorrow,” he said eventually.
“Tomorrow!” said Richard. “You have been there, literally, night and day. And now that she is better, you decide to stay away? Whatever for?”
“I cannot explain it,” he mumbled.
“Oh leave him alone, Richard,” said Lady Catherine. “If he wishes to stay at Rosings then let him stay at Rosings.”
“Well, I for one am going,” said Bingley. “And I advise you to do the same, Darcy.”
Lady Catherine gave Bingley a disapproving look but he simply ignored it and smiled at her.
Half an hour later, Darcy sat in the drawing room with Lady Catherine and Mrs. Jenkinson and attempted to distract himself.
Eventually, Lady Catherine, who had noticed his distraction, said, “Well if you must go, then go, Darcy!”
“What do you mean, Aunt?”
“You have hardly heard a word I said!”
