would say and do
over these arrangements being made without her direction, however, Elizabeth
felt that Miss Bingley was the least of her concerns at this moment.
“Miss
Darcy, would you please put the cloth in your brother’s mouth?” She heard Mr.
Darcy’s faint whisper of “I love you, Georgie” just before he bit down on the
rolled towel. Georgiana pulled her hand back and stroked his hair, whispering
back that she loved him as well. Holding the threaded needle up to the light to
make sure there were no knots or twists, she looked up to Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“I know that we have not been properly introduced. Colonel Fitzwilliam, I
believe?” At his nod she continued, “Please, do inform our host of the
arrangements being made that will impact him and his household.” Turning to Mr.
Darcy’s valet, she directed, “Mr. Parker,” at which he interrupted with “just
Parker, miss”. “Parker,” she acquiesced, “Please, see that all bedding in Mr.
Darcy’s room is spotlessly clean and that the maid has cleaned all surfaces.
Also, please ask that a basin and washstand similar to the one Mr. Burton has
outside this door is put outside Mr. Darcy’s door. I assume that I can entrust
you with seeing that no person enters that room without washing first?”
He
immediately agreed. Her commands were given in a soft, but firm tone and were
not in any way unkind. He had heard the malicious speculation and whispers
coming from the Bingley sisters about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but he,
personally, could see no evidence of it. He left to see to his duties.
“Are
you ready, Mr. Darcy?” she patted his elbow one last time as she awaited his
nod. He took a deep breath. At his nod, she inserted the needle at the back of
his arm for the first stitch. Georgiana gulped and Mr. Darcy’s body jerked. The
footman and coachman held on tight. It would take many such sutures to close
the wounds.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire
The
minutes seemed to crawl by as Elizabeth placed one stitch after another. She
counted each suture aloud as she reassured those gathered that they were closer
and closer to the finish. Mr. Darcy had to be praised for holding himself still
and not fighting against the servants who held him. Georgiana, too, deserved
praise for her fortitude and Elizabeth whispered to her continually how proud
she was of the young girl. She felt that she was seeing Georgiana’s true
personality, her true self.
Finally,
she proclaimed it the last stitch and she tied it off quickly. Giving the wound
at the front and back of his arm a quick wipe of soap and water and a dab more
of the whisky, she wrapped Mr. Darcy’s arm with a clean bandage. Not knowing if
he had lost consciousness, she whispered to Georgiana that she hoped Mr. Darcy
was pleased with the initial’s “GAD”, for Georgiana Anne Darcy, stitched on the
front of his arm and “EAB”, for Elizabeth Anne Bennet, on the back. She got a
faint grin from Miss Darcy, but Mr. Darcy chuckled and told them both that he
would be proud to wear such a scar for a lifetime. He was conscious. Mr. Darcy
started to rise on his own and Elizabeth put a strong hand on his shoulder at
the same time that John Coachman’s large hand bore down. “You will require
help, sir, to reach your room.” It was a statement, not a request for agreement
from him. He complied and allowed the footmen to assist him to his room.
Parker
had done as requested and the bed chamber was spotless. He stood at the doorway
and directed Mr. Darcy be placed in a chair next to the bed. There, with the
help of Gideon, he removed his master’s boots, pants, and shirt. He had taken
it upon himself to remove the left sleeve of Mr. Darcy’s nightshirt so that his
dressing could be changed with the least amount of disturbance.
Down
in the dining room, Elizabeth cleaned her tools and repacked her case. She
observed the maids removing the used towels, cloths,
over these arrangements being made without her direction, however, Elizabeth
felt that Miss Bingley was the least of her concerns at this moment.
“Miss
Darcy, would you please put the cloth in your brother’s mouth?” She heard Mr.
Darcy’s faint whisper of “I love you, Georgie” just before he bit down on the
rolled towel. Georgiana pulled her hand back and stroked his hair, whispering
back that she loved him as well. Holding the threaded needle up to the light to
make sure there were no knots or twists, she looked up to Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“I know that we have not been properly introduced. Colonel Fitzwilliam, I
believe?” At his nod she continued, “Please, do inform our host of the
arrangements being made that will impact him and his household.” Turning to Mr.
Darcy’s valet, she directed, “Mr. Parker,” at which he interrupted with “just
Parker, miss”. “Parker,” she acquiesced, “Please, see that all bedding in Mr.
Darcy’s room is spotlessly clean and that the maid has cleaned all surfaces.
Also, please ask that a basin and washstand similar to the one Mr. Burton has
outside this door is put outside Mr. Darcy’s door. I assume that I can entrust
you with seeing that no person enters that room without washing first?”
He
immediately agreed. Her commands were given in a soft, but firm tone and were
not in any way unkind. He had heard the malicious speculation and whispers
coming from the Bingley sisters about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but he,
personally, could see no evidence of it. He left to see to his duties.
“Are
you ready, Mr. Darcy?” she patted his elbow one last time as she awaited his
nod. He took a deep breath. At his nod, she inserted the needle at the back of
his arm for the first stitch. Georgiana gulped and Mr. Darcy’s body jerked. The
footman and coachman held on tight. It would take many such sutures to close
the wounds.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire
The
minutes seemed to crawl by as Elizabeth placed one stitch after another. She
counted each suture aloud as she reassured those gathered that they were closer
and closer to the finish. Mr. Darcy had to be praised for holding himself still
and not fighting against the servants who held him. Georgiana, too, deserved
praise for her fortitude and Elizabeth whispered to her continually how proud
she was of the young girl. She felt that she was seeing Georgiana’s true
personality, her true self.
Finally,
she proclaimed it the last stitch and she tied it off quickly. Giving the wound
at the front and back of his arm a quick wipe of soap and water and a dab more
of the whisky, she wrapped Mr. Darcy’s arm with a clean bandage. Not knowing if
he had lost consciousness, she whispered to Georgiana that she hoped Mr. Darcy
was pleased with the initial’s “GAD”, for Georgiana Anne Darcy, stitched on the
front of his arm and “EAB”, for Elizabeth Anne Bennet, on the back. She got a
faint grin from Miss Darcy, but Mr. Darcy chuckled and told them both that he
would be proud to wear such a scar for a lifetime. He was conscious. Mr. Darcy
started to rise on his own and Elizabeth put a strong hand on his shoulder at
the same time that John Coachman’s large hand bore down. “You will require
help, sir, to reach your room.” It was a statement, not a request for agreement
from him. He complied and allowed the footmen to assist him to his room.
Parker
had done as requested and the bed chamber was spotless. He stood at the doorway
and directed Mr. Darcy be placed in a chair next to the bed. There, with the
help of Gideon, he removed his master’s boots, pants, and shirt. He had taken
it upon himself to remove the left sleeve of Mr. Darcy’s nightshirt so that his
dressing could be changed with the least amount of disturbance.
Down
in the dining room, Elizabeth cleaned her tools and repacked her case. She
observed the maids removing the used towels, cloths,
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