Chapter 32

May 17, 1813

“Jane, you can't imagine how difficult this has been for me. It has only been two days. How will I ever be able to last four weeks?” Lizzy lay on top of a freshly made bed. She was clearly full of energy and obviously bored.

“How did the maid manage to make the bed beneath you, my little invalid?” Jane asked, with a tone that scolded but eyes that twinkled with mischief. Both sisters knew perfectly well that Elizabeth, when not in company, would try to escape her cage, pain, and injury be damned. Jane was sitting on a chair next to Lizzy's bed, which was probably the exact same seat that Lizzy had occupied not more than five minutes before Jane's arrival and the maid's departure. Jane was working on a cross stitch piece and did not protest when her question went unanswered.

After a few minutes of silence, without looking up from her work, Jane asked, “Have you seen Dr. Hardey today? Were you not intending to ask him if you may be carried to other rooms?”

“I had intended to ask this question, but upon reflection requested a solution that would offer more freedom. I asked if I could walk with a cane once my ankle heals if I lightly cinch my corset to act as a binding for my rib cage.”

“And… what did the doctor say?”

Lizzy's irritation showed. “He said no.” Her brow furrowed as she thought on the matter. She was about to open her mouth to express her irritation at the doctor's ridiculous protests when a great ruckus was heard.

The sisters looked at each other and without being asked Jane stood up, set down her cross stitch, and went to investigate. Ten minutes later, Jane returned.

“What was it?” Lizzy asked looking at her sister's unusual expression.

“Why, Mr. Darcy has asked his staff to clear out the small portrait gallery so it may be converted into a ground floor bedchamber for you.”

“Whatever for?”

“It seems he has ordered you a Bath chair, which is some sort of small chaise in which you may be pushed from room to room or pulled by pony if you wish to explore outdoors.” She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “Apparently, he thought you might find the confines of your room restricting and spoke to Dr. Hardey about appropriate solutions. You will be able to freely move about with the aid of this chair, and with a ground level bedroom, stairs will not pose an obstacle.” Jane considered whether or not to continue. She had found herself growing fond of Charles's best friend. He was far less stuffy in his own environment. Jane thought it would benefit all if Elizabeth did not hold him under such disdain. Although she wanted her sister to focus on Mr. Darcy's generosity, there were instructions that would contribute to Lizzy's well-being. She could not, in good conscience, ignore sharing this warning even if it would again be shared by others, “Although this new chair is acceptable, it seems Dr. Hardey does insist you avoid any rough paths. He will allow you to roll around only if it will not jostle you greatly.”

Elizabeth heard the warning, but her efforts were spent reflecting on the thoughtful actions of Mr. Darcy. She had not spoken to the man since her fall. She had read his letter several times and was somewhat surprised that despite her willingness to forge a friendship, he had not made any efforts to visit her. It was true she had not communicated her forgiveness, but neither had he given her the opportunity to express it. She had wondered if Mr. Darcy's reluctance to communicate with her following his letter stemmed from the fact she was confined to her bedchambers. It was not entirely proper receiving gentlemen under such circumstances. If this had been the case, was his generosity for her own benefit or was he hoping to make her more accessible so he might further their acquaintance?

Lizzy had also found confusion in other actions taken by Mr. Darcy. His servants had brought fresh flowers to her room daily, and when she inquired on the matter, they were evasive. After a relentless pursuit, she was able to discover the truth. Mr. Darcy had ordered the delivery, for he was aware of her love of the outdoors, and he had hoped to ease the struggles of her confinement. And yet, he had asked his servants to not mention they were being delivered on his orders. It was only through a slip of the tongue that this knowledge came to Lizzy.

More surprising was how upset the servant had been for accidentally revealing Mr. Darcy's role. At first, Elizabeth had assumed the servant feared repercussions, but rather the reaction was a result of the servant's loyalty and respect for her employer. As the days passed, Elizabeth discovered every person that worked at Pemberley viewed Mr. Darcy as the most admirable of Masters. They regaled her with tales of his youth. In spite of herself, Lizzy began to grow intrigued by the young boy that inspired such antics. He sounded like someone she would very much appreciate being acquainted with.

“Jane, what are they clearing out of the room?”

“Well, the small articles of furniture and the portraits I presume.”

“I greatly appreciate the effort Mr. Darcy is putting forth to accommodate his clumsy guest, but I should hardly want to create such a distribution. If he is insistent on this course of action, please ask that they leave the portraits in place. I do not wish to alter the room any more than necessary for my benefit. This would be a temporary situation, and I would like to see as little fuss made as possible.”

“I understand perfectly.” Jane nodded her approval. “Let me take my leave to inform the servants of your preferences. But before I go, Mr. Darcy asked that I deliver this book. He thought you might find it entertaining.”

After Jane left, Lizzy opened the book she'd been handed to see if it contained a second letter. Much to her surprise, she felt disappointed that it did not. She was excited to explore the new volume. She had taken great pleasure in reading Mr. Darcy's former suggestion and had found herself in agreement with his assessment of the author's strengths. She wished to further discuss some of the finer points of the book and resolved to do so when they next met.

Georgiana had approached Darcy after the portrait gallery had nearly completed its transformation. He had not brought up any topics related to Elizabeth since they had spoken two days prior. His sister had watched as he performed small acts of kindness from afar. Yet, he had kept his distance and she wished to know why.

“I see our Great Grandfather Willard will be decidedly more comfortable with a bed in his room. He has been hanging on that wall for at least one hundred years,” Georgiana said as she walked toward her brother, taking in the new additions to the portrait gallery. The walls looked untouched, but a bed, vanity, nightstand, and all other essentials of a bedroom filled the floor. The furniture appeared new and looked as if it would suit Miss Bennet's tastes perfectly.

“Yes, I spoke with Dr. Hardey, and he felt that Miss Bennet might be more mobile should we situate her room on this level.” He glanced around the room. “I am rather surprised all our bed chambers are located upstairs. I don't think Great Grandfather Willard will mind sharing this room too much, do you?”

“No, but perhaps Miss Bennet might not desire his company. He does have a rather stern stare. I have lost every staring contest we have played.” Her mouth tilted upward into a smile. “And he is rather tight-lipped.”

Darcy smiled for the first time in days, which gave his sister much comfort. “It was my intent to have the portraits removed and stored elsewhere, but the elder Miss Bennet indicated that Miss Elizabeth preferred to keep them in place. I suppose some people might appreciate one-dimensional characters like Willard Darcy.”

“Well I am afraid he has two dimensions,” Georgiana said with a giggle. “But tell me, Fitzwilliam, why have you been so distant these past two days?”

“Have I? I did not realize I was.” Darcy reflected on his actions and thoughts after receiving his heart-crushing rejection. It was true. Pemberley, his sanctuary, had suddenly become Purgatory. Elizabeth lay in its walls, but she did not want him. Not only was his love unrequited, but he felt little hope that her love could ever be won. He had been told by Bingley to use the opportunity that had presented itself to demonstrate his better qualities, which he had been assured would win her over. But then, he had been told by Georgiana to be himself and, while his desired outcome was uncertain, he might be able to secure her friendship. Two warring approaches, from two advisors whose strategic planning had previously failed him. Darcy had been contemplating both sets of advice. Georgiana was a female and had grown to know Elizabeth well, after months of correspondence, but she was young and lacked experience in relationships. Bingley had a proven track record in securing the affections of women, had dug himself out of trouble with the sister of his own love, and had access to any insights Jane might offer. Yet Bingley was an eternal optimist and would always assume a positive outcome regardless of the probability. It was this internal debate that had distracted him, but his heart told him that his sister was right. Even if he could win her through subterfuge, he could never be sure that she loved the true him unless this was all he ever presented.

And so his debate shifted. Georgiana suggested if he showed his true character, he might secure Lizzy's friendship. He was now faced with the question of the strength of his heart. He knew that Lizzy had received his letter, but he knew not how she felt. If she had no desire for friendship, his choice would be made for him. If she could offer him that gift, however, he would need to build fortitude. He longed for her companionship but he knew that having only this would act as a reminder of all that he would never have. And two days, nay, two weeks, seemed insufficient time to prepare himself for this possibility. If he allowed himself months, his opportunity to secure her kindness would have long passed. Could his fragile bosom stand the bittersweet taste of friendship at such an early juncture? He could not say. So he waited. Waited for a sign. In the meantime, he resolved to behave as he normally would in terms of his actions but keep to himself in terms of interactions. He thought of Elizabeth's needs and tried to address them but hoped to do so anonymously.

“I suppose that I have taken your advice into consideration. I am attempting to do what is in the best interest of our guests and accommodate their preferences. In Miss Bennet's case, this means withdrawing myself from her presence.”

Georgiana released a sigh of exasperation. “Fitzwilliam, you are taking all these steps to enable her to continue to move about and socialize. You cannot truly expect to avoid interactions. What shall happen when we all gather in the parlor?”

“I suppose I can retire to my study. Or enjoy a book in the corner.”

His sister gave him a look of incredulity.

He did not wish to say it, but he knew he could not avoid her questioning otherwise. “I have approached Miss Bennet, and she made herself clear. I have since offered an olive branch of friendship. I shall leave her in peace, and should she wish to accept my offer she may come to me and do so. But I will not press the advantage of having her trapped in my home. This does not mean I do not continue to care or that I will not do all I can to help her in any way I am able.”

The pain in his voice was evident but his jaw was set. Georgiana walked closer and took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.