Sufficient Encouragement Refresh– Chapter Twenty-Seven

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sleep did not come easily for Darcy. Once slumber did find him, he had dreams of a wedding breakfast for Elizabeth, only Wickham was the bridegroom. Awaking early, he called for a tray sent to his room and for his horse to be readied. Unfortunately, riding over the countryside did not clear his thoughts. Having found no answer but to put his faith and trust in Elizabeth’s good sense, inquisitive nature, and need for justice, he did not realise he had journeyed to Longbourn’s land until he heard what sounded like a child weeping. He directed his horse towards the sound and saw a tiny child. He slid off his horse.

“Hullo, there,” he gently called out. The child looked up but did not speak. “Are you lost?”

The boy nodded.

“My name is Mr. Darcy. If you tell me yours, perhaps I can help.”

“Tommy Woodhouse.”

“What are you doing all alone out here?”

“Nate and me went to get water, but he tripped and hurt his leg. He told me to go home for Mama, but I don’t remember a how to get there!” Tommy wailed, and Darcy scooped him up.

“How old are you, Tommy?” He held up four fingers. “Does your Papa work on Mr. Bennet’s land?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you remember what you were near when Nate fell?”

“We were at the brook.”

“Would you like to ride on my horse? We will go and find Nate and then take you both home.”

Tommy’s eyes went wide. “It’s so big!”

“I will hold onto you. Do not fear, you will not fall. I taught my little sister to ride just the same way.”

“I can do what a girl can do!”

They reached the horse’s side and in a moment were on their way. He thought he recalled the location of the brook from his walk with Elizabeth.

Soon they heard the sound of water running and, unexpectedly, a female voice singing. Drawing closer, Darcy saw Elizabeth sitting on the ground rocking a child about a year older than Tommy.

“Nate!” the boy in front of him screamed. After a few more steps, Darcy dismounted and tied off the horse. He helped Tommy down and allowed him to approach his brother.

Elizabeth gave Darcy a shaky smile. “Mr. Darcy, thank God you have come upon us. He is badly hurt.”

Darcy crouched low and examined the child’s leg. A lady’s handkerchief, clearly Elizabeth’s, covered a gash that was deeper than he would have liked. The boy’s breeches were soaked with blood. Darcy spoke gently to the hurt boy. “Can you walk at all?”

The boy barely managed to shake his head.

“He is scarcely conscious,” Elizabeth said quietly.

“Do you know the way to their home?” he asked.

“Yes, it is not too far. I found him only a few minutes ago and was attempting to make him comfortable. I planned to leave and bring help in a moment.”

“Can you help me keep him steady on the horse?”

Elizabeth nodded, and Darcy lifted Nate from her arms. Once both boys settled on the horse, young Tommy helped hold Nate steady. They walked the short distance to the tenant farm in silence. The boys’ mother greeted them in near hysterics. She was heavy with child and had a toddler on her hip. It was clear that although she had been worried at their long absence, she was in no position to search for them. The boys likely would have been at the mercy of the elements until their father came in for a meal.

“Miss Lizzy! Thank God for you, Miss Lizzy!” she cried over and over again into Elizabeth’s arms.

“Shh,” Elizabeth cooed as she rubbed the mother’s back. “Everything will be fine now. Let us get Nate cleaned and in bed, while Mr. Darcy goes for the surgeon.”

The woman finally calmed and set to work. Elizabeth followed Darcy outside.

“I hope you do not mind me sending you on the errand.”

“No, of course not. I had determined to go when we found him.”

“Thank you for your assistance. The surgeon’s shop is three down from the bookstore, just past the square. These boys are precious. Fortunately, I planned to call on Mrs. Woodhouse this morning anyway.”

Elizabeth’s lip trembled, and Darcy realised she felt quite attached to this family. He squeezed her hand, noticing both of their gloves were stained with blood. “The boy is strong. I will return as quickly as possible.”

It took an hour to journey to Meryton and return with the surgeon. The sun was climbing high in the sky by the time Darcy re-entered the small farmhouse. Mr. Woodhouse had been retrieved from the field by Elizabeth. The surgeon set to work, and it was advised that the apothecary visit on the morrow as a precaution against infection.

“He should be arriving any time,” Darcy said. “I took the liberty of sending a message to request his aid here this afternoon.”

Mr. and Mrs. Woodhouse quickly thanked him, but he was most gratified by Elizabeth’s look of approval. A knock on the door soon proved to be Mr. Jones, and Elizabeth and Darcy set about to occupy the other children, who were growing restless. At last, Nate was reported to be doing better than expected. Mr. Jones believed he had not lost as much blood as had been feared. Instead, the child must have grown faint from the mere sight of it. Having no further usefulness, Darcy and Elizabeth left on foot, leading his horse behind them.

After walking in silence for several minutes, Elizabeth spoke. “Thank you again for your assistance,” she said. “Few gentlemen would have been as quick-thinking as you.”

He smiled at her praise. “You were the impressive one! Your father’s tenants are blessed to have you.”

She blushed but murmured a thank you before stumbling and reaching for a tree for support.

“Elizabeth!” He reached her side in a step. She looked terribly pale. “Are you well?”

“I am sorry,” she said and attempted to smile. “I left before breakfast and fear the events of the day have exhausted me.”

“You have not eaten all day; no wonder you feel faint!” He took her gently by the arm and led her to a clearer spot with fewer leaves and sticks for her to sit. “I have something in my saddle bag.” He retrieved bread and a few apples from the sack on his horse and brought them over. In due time, the colour returned to her cheeks.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked as they sat next to each other.

“Yes, thank you.” She grinned at him. “Forgive my impertinence, but I was very proud to call you a friend today.” Her eyes met his for just a moment before she looked away.

He focused on where their hands nearly touched; they had removed their gloves to eat. He summoned all of his courage. “I would not have you call me friend.”

Her breath caught. “What would you have me call you?”

He looked at her face then. She also studied where their hands were, but her cheeks were bright red. His eyes never leaving her face, he stretched his little finger to gently caress the length of her smooth hand. She took in a startled breath and then closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the sensation. He leaned his head closer to her ear and stroked her hand again, forming a heart.

“I despise gloves.”

Her lips turned up at the corners, and she finally met his eye. “You did not answer my question.” She raised an eyebrow in half tease, half challenge.

He stared at her for a long moment. They were at a precipice, and she was asking if he would jump first. He would lay down his life for this woman; of course, he was willing to jump. “You should call me,” he said slowly and watched as her eyes dropped when he turned her hand over and drew another heart on the sensitive flesh of her palm, “William.”

“Will—”

Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath when he intertwined their hands, giving hers a squeeze. The contact made him dizzy. She had closed her eyes with a soft smile on her lips. Unable to resist, he raised her hands and brushed his lips across her smooth skin. Air left her lungs in an audible sigh and her eyes flew open, revealing wide pupils and an expression of desire, heightened by her deep blush. Her rapid breathing matched his own and his heart pounded in his ears. He had never been so forward with a lady, had never desired to do such a thing before. Her dumbfounded but pleased expression thrilled him.

Reluctantly, he let go of her hands, grinning when she immediately raised them to her lips. His breathing was still irregular when he forced himself to speak. “It is growing late.” He extended his hand to help her up, a spark leaping up his arm when she touched him. “Allow me to escort you home, and then I will speak with your father about today.”

She snatched her hand away. “Speak with him?”

“I would hardly consider myself a gentleman if I did not talk to him about my actions with his tenants.”

Elizabeth sighed in clear relief. “Oh. Do not worry about that.” She chewed the bottom of her lip. “He seems to be feeling unwell lately. He has a sudden dislike for estate matters or serious subjects. I will mention it to the steward, and we shall settle everything with Mr. Jones and Mr. Hobson.”

Darcy began to argue again, but she waved off his concerns. “Georgie will worry about you being gone so long without a word. Return to Netherfield. Longbourn is only a quarter of a mile from here.” She pointed, and he could see the house in the distance.

“If you are certain you are well?”

“I am very well,” she said as she began to walk at a brisk pace. “Pass my greetings to everyone for me.”

Darcy stood rooted in place. He had just kissed her hands effectively declaring his suit, feeling as though fire consumed his heart, and now she was leaving his side without saying a thing at all about it?

“Tomorrow!” he called out, and she stopped. She turned and looked at him. “Tomorrow, I would like to call on you.”

“You call almost every day,” she said softly.

He walked to her and took one hand in his. “Would you allow me to call on you?”

She bit her lip and then grinned as she nodded. “I would like that.”

“As would I.” He bowed over her hand and kissed it again before meeting her eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before she collected her senses, curtsied, and turned towards her home.

Darcy walked back to his horse, thankful that he finally had an answer about what to do about Wickham. Nothing. He need not do a thing. Elizabeth’s smile and receiving his token of affection with pleasure were all the encouragement he needed to believe she would soon be his. He would even let her call him Will. He rather liked that no one else had ever called him that. It was an informal name, but with her it was fitting; he was just a man in love.