Page 19 of A Christmas Understanding

“Do you believe you can stand?”

“Of course I can.”

Her uncle waved to Miss Bingley’s footman. “Take her other side, if you will. Let us attempt to lift Miss Bingley to her feet. Slowly.”

With their assistance, she sat up, leaned forward, and rose. She was bent at the waist, and when she attempted to straighten, she gasped and her knees folded.

Uncle Gardiner caught her.

For several seconds, no one spoke. Miss Bingley clung to the front of Uncle Gardiner’s greatcoat, her eyes closed and her breath coming unevenly. “I beg your pardon,” she whispered.

“There is no need,” Elizabeth’s uncle said, “but I do not think you should make another attempt.”

“If I might have a minute to recover⁠—”

“I would rather not discover that you have made your injury worse by walking when you cannot even stand.”

“I am not seriously injured.”

Uncle Gardiner glanced at Jane and then Elizabeth. “We shall be glad to hear a surgeon confirm it,” Elizabeth said. “You are clearly in pain, Miss Bingley. Please allow us to help you.”

There was no one she would like to help less at this moment. But there was no way around it.

Miss Bingley obviously felt the same. They could all of them see it. But finally, she offered a quick, terse nod.

“Jane,” her uncle said, “please send for Mr. Hinshaw.”

Mr. Hinshaw was a surgeon who lived a few streets away. Jane hurried back into the house.

Uncle Gardiner shifted his hold, placing one arm behind Miss Bingley’s back and the other behind her knees.

Miss Bingley lifted her head a little. “Mr. Gardiner, you cannot mean to⁠—”

“I cannot leave you on the pavement, Miss Bingley,” he said, and lifted her.

Elizabeth’s uncle was the youngest of the Gardiner siblings at thirty-seven, a tall, strapping man who had inherited the Gardiner good looks and whose easy strength made light work of Miss Bingley, despite her indignant protests.

He was very gentle with her, but the change of position made her tighten her grasp upon his coat. The footman stepped forward, perhaps intending to relieve him, but Uncle Gardiner shook his head. “I do not wish to pain her more by transferring her into another set of arms. Follow me inside, if you will.”

“Grandmother Gardiner’s room?” Elizabeth asked her uncle, and he nodded. She darted ahead.

The chamber was on the ground floor and always kept in readiness for unexpected guests, so there was little to do other than toss the curtains back to let in the sun, turn down the quilt, and call for Cora to lay the fire. That done, Elizabeth stepped out into the hall in time to hear Henry say, from his perch halfway up the stairs, “We did not touch her.”

“We were not even close,” Edward insisted.

Miss Bingley made a noise which might have been either pain or irritation. Or both, Elizabeth supposed.

“I am pleased to hear it,” Aunt Gardiner said as she came down the stairs and hurried the boys up them. “To the nursery with you both. Now.”

Uncle Gardiner approached with his burden with Aunt Gardiner following him. Elizabeth stepped aside to let them pass through and then entered behind them all. By the time Miss Bingley had been gently placed on the bed, her face had lost nearly all its colour.

“Shall we loosen your gown?” her aunt asked.

“No,” Miss Bingley said.

“Allow me to at least remove your bonnet,” Aunt Gardiner said.

“I have injured my back,” Miss Bingley snapped. “I have not become incapable of removing my bonnet.”