Falling at Pemberley Ch 7

Here is Chapter 7! Just in case you missed my ‘extra’ post on Thursday of last week with Chapter 6, here is the link. If you are just now beginning to read the story, here is the link to Chapter 1. I won’t keep you any longer. Here is Chapter 7. I hope you enjoy it!

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Chapter 7

“Miss Bennet!” Mr. Darcy visibly started when he looked over and saw her, his eyes widening. His hand instantly jerked, causing something to fall to the floor. “Ow!” he said as he immediately grabbed his hand.

“Oh, no!” Elizabeth cried, seeing a stream of blood drip onto the floor. She frantically looked about, and seeing some folded cloths nearby, seized one, and hurried back. Her fingers adeptly wrapped the cloth tightly about the wound as Darcy carefully pulled his other hand away. “Oh, dear, I fear it may be a deep cut.” She pressed the cloth against it and tried to order her thoughts. She took a deep breath as her head tilted up and her eyes met his intense gaze.

He brought his free hand tentatively over hers, which still held the cloth tightly. “I think I can manage from here,” he said.

Realizing she was still grasping his hand, she released it quickly, stepping back. “Oh yes, certainly.” Her fingers began to shake, and she clasped her hands tightly together. Her face warmed when she realized the man in front of her wore no coat, no neckcloth, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up his arm.

She did not know what more to say or where to look. He did not seem inclined to say anything but merely kept his gaze on her. She felt the intensity of his gaze and cast her eyes down. Noticing her wet dress, she gasped and pressed her hand to her neck. “Oh, dear! I must look a fright!”

Darcy started. “Pray, forgive me! My coat is over there, if you would like to… I would… I fear you will need to…” He lifted both hands and gave a slight shrug.

“Oh, yes! Thank you! I can get it.” She gave her head a shake as she walked over to pick up his coat and threw it over her shoulders. “Again, I am so sorry. I seem to be causing injury at every turn.” She pulled the coat around her.

“I think I will survive.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you blame yourself for your uncle’s fall?”

Elizabeth let out a soft moan. “I had turned back to look…” She felt a sudden warmth in her cheeks. “I had turned away and did not see that he had stopped at the top of the staircase. I collided into him when I stepped forward, and he fell down.”

“I see.”

Elizabeth’s heart pounded so strongly, and coupled with the rain pelting down on the roof, she could barely hear herself think. “Mr. Darcy, I pray you will forgive my intrusion. I was looking at the gardens. Miss Darcy… your sister had been showing them to me, but she was called in, and I came over to see the rose garden. When it began to rain, I saw the shed and thought it best that I take cover in here.” She paused and drew in a breath, wondering whether she was making any sense. Her thoughts seemed to be in a muddle, and more so, her words. “I am deeply sorry.”

He nodded slowly, dropping his eyes back to his hand.

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly and looked away. “I know you… I know you must have become aware of the fact that I was here when the letter was brought for me from the Inn at Lambton. No doubt you must have been surprised to discover I was here.”

“I was.”

“I know what you must be thinking…” she said softly.

“Do you?” He looked up abruptly, and his eyes met hers.

Elizabeth felt her stomach lurch at his words, and she could not find the strength or willpower to pull her gaze away from his. The biting tone of his voice and the challenging look on his face caused her breath to catch in her throat. She trembled and did not know if she was chilled from being wet or because of the way he was looking at her. If she only knew what he was thinking – and feeling – it would make things so much easier for her.

“Well, actually no, I do not. I… I can only imagine what you must be thinking, and I want you to know, Mr. Darcy, that I am so very sorry. I did everything in my power to discourage my aunt and uncle from coming here. My aunt grew up in Lambton, you see, and while we were visiting her friends there, she so much wanted to see Pemberley again. She had such fond memories, and…” Her voice trailed off.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Bennet.” He checked the wound again, seeing it was still bleeding. “Or should I say, Miss Gardiner?” He lifted a brow as he glanced up at her.

Elizabeth grimaced. “I thought perhaps…” She shook her head. “I allowed that misapprehension in the hopes that my presence here would not be discovered.”

“I see.”

“Again, I am so sorry.”

“And as I said, there is no need to apologize.”

“No, I suppose not, but please allow me to apologize for startling you and causing this injury. I hope it is not serious.”

“I think I shall live. It is a hazard of the job,” he said, drawing in a quick breath.

“Job? What is it you are doing in here?”

He reached down and picked up the object that had fallen. “I am attempting to carve a piece of wood into what hopefully will look like a bird when it is finished.”

“I have seen some wood-carved birds around the house. Did you do them?”

“They are not all mine, but I have made many of them,” he said with a nod.

Elizabeth could not prevent the teasing smile that appeared, feeling somewhat more at ease. “I was not aware that wood carving was one of the fine accomplishments of an esteemed gentleman.”

Darcy lifted his brow, and with it, his eyes to her. “An accomplishment, perhaps, but not necessarily that of an esteemed gentleman.”

She felt her cheeks grow warm. She looked down at the piece of wood in his hands. “What kind of bird is this going to be?”

“A falcon.”

“Ah, I think I can see it. Your work is superb.” Elizabeth nervously knitted her fingers together as she looked back to the open door. Noticing the intensity of the rain, she let out a soft huff, knowing she would not be able to leave for a while. She turned back to Mr. Darcy. “If you do not mind my asking, how long have you carved wood?”

Darcy looked at the piece of wood he held in his hand. “Since I was about eight years old. A very wise gentleman used to carve wood, and I would often watch him. One day he asked me if I would like to learn, and I told him I would.”

“I am impressed.”

It was Darcy’s turn to shrug his shoulders. “It has proven to be an excellent way for me to deal with the heavy burdens and responsibilities that came upon me at an early age. He was very wise, for he taught me that I must learn to control my actions with the knife, no matter how I was feeling on the inside.”

Elizabeth looked away, realizing her unexpected appearance had likely caused him to lose control of the knife and injure himself. She slowly looked back at him. “It appears you were an excellent student.”

“He was an excellent teacher.”

Elizabeth watched his eyes darken. “Did he work at Pemberley? Was he one of the gardeners?”

Darcy pressed his lips into a thin line. Very softly, he said, “He was my father’s steward.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Mr. Wickham?”

He nodded. “He tried to teach his son, as well, but even as a boy, Wickham was not interested in learning patience and self-control.” He shook his head. “The late Mr. Wickham was a fine gentleman, but unfortunately, his son is nothing like he was.” He looked at Elizabeth as if waiting for her response.

Elizabeth realized Darcy would not know if she ever read his letter detailing Wickham’s character. She did not want to bring up the letter – or anything that happened in Kent – so she merely said, “It is unfortunate he turned out like he did when his father was so good.”

Darcy drew in a long breath. “Unfortunately, he took on the less admirable characteristics of his mother.” He shook his head. “She always wanted to live above what they could afford and was never satisfied.”

“As does Mr. Wickham.” It was silent for a moment, and then she said, “Did you carve the owl that is in the library? It is magnificent!”

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “I did, but… when were you in the library?”

“I…” Elizabeth’s shoulders drooped, and she gave her head a resigned shake. “You may as well know, Mr. Darcy. I was behind the middle wall of shelves when you brought your sister in to give her the book you had purchased for her.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I am to blame for its disappearance. I was actually holding it in my hand.”

“And you did not feel you ought to step out, announce yourself, and return the book to me so I could give it to my sister?”

A pang of guilt overtook Elizabeth. “I… I did not want you to see me,” she said softly.

“I see.” Darcy looked at the wound again and covered it back up quickly. “And then you replaced the book later so it was there again when I returned.”

“Yes,” she laughed nervously. “I could not keep it, knowing…” She nervously waved her hand.

Darcy began to nod his head. “So all along I believed I was imagining things… or not in my right mind.”

“I am sorry.” She swallowed as a lump formed in her throat. “If you do not mind my asking, in addition to the finished owl in the library, I noticed an unfinished bird on your desk sitting on some papers. Is that another bird you are working on?”

Darcy’s eyes shot up, and his brows lowered slightly. He licked his lips and said, “It was going to be a… magpie.”

“Truly? A magpie?” She smiled, but it quickly disappeared. “Why do you say it was going to be a magpie? Do you not intend to finish it?”

A frown appeared as he seemed to search for words. “I am not certain. I… I lost all inspiration to finish it.”

“I see.” Elizabeth laughed nervously. “My father calls me his magpie. He actually calls me his Maggie-pie. He gave me and each of my sisters the nickname of a bird. Jane, of course, is a dove, as she is such a sweet, serene, and peaceful young lady. He named me a magpie because he says I am a great deal like them. He claims that they are very intelligent and social birds.” She shrugged and tried to give him a carefree smile, something she did not feel at all.

“So I understand.” Darcy drew in a deep breath.

Elizabeth glanced away, hoping he did not notice the warmth she felt in her cheeks. She wondered what it was he understood. Was it that the magpie was intelligent and social… or that her father called her a magpie? At the moment, she did not feel intelligent at all, but was struggling to make sense of her words and the situation in which she now found herself.

“Now, if you do not mind my asking you a question, did you… could you perhaps also have been hiding behind your uncle’s bed when I came in that first day?”

Elizabeth felt her face warm further with a deeper blush. “You… you saw me?”

“At the time, I was not certain what I saw, save for some lavender fabric on the other side of the bed near the floor… very much like that dress you are now wearing.”

Elizabeth looked down at her dress and winced. “I suppose that was me. You see, I…”

“You did not want me to see you.”

She silently nodded, feeling unsettled as his eyes locked onto hers.

He drew in a breath and a frown crossed his features as he dropped his eyes and fixed them on his wound. “And one more question… if you do not mind.” He lifted his eyes to her. “Did you perchance lose a bonnet?”

Elizabeth dropped her gaze. “I suppose I did.” She winced. “You see…”

Darcy lifted his hand. “No need to explain. It is enough for me to know there is a logical explanation for the odd things that have happened around here of late.” After a moment of silence he added, “I shall have a maid return your bonnet to you later.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Elizabeth turned her eyes to the door to see torrential rain still pouring down. She pulled his coat tightly about her. “The rain… do you suppose it will let up soon?” She could not imagine how she would return to the house if it continued as it was.

“The forecasting of weather is not one of my accomplishments.”

Elizabeth laughed softly. “No, I suppose not.” The silence that followed seemed louder to her than the thundering of her heart within her chest or the pelting of the rain on the roof of the shed.

Darcy glanced down at his wound again. Blood still oozed from it in a few places.

“Again, I am very sorry,” she said. “I should have returned to the house once it began to rain, but I was captivated by the garden.” She paused and pressed her lips together. “The roses in particular are beautiful.”

Darcy met her gaze. “Thank you.” A small smile appeared but was just as quickly gone. “Now, Miss Bennet, I suggest we figure out a way to get back to the house across this increasingly sodden ground without drowning!” He walked to the door, braced his uninjured hand on the frame, and looked out. “It does not seem likely to end any time soon, and now there is an enormous lake of mud between us and the house.”

He held out his injured hand. “Would you be so kind as to tie the ends of this cloth very tightly about my hand, making certain it is pressing down upon the wound?”

“Certainly,” she replied, taking a step closer to him. “I can at least do that.” Her fingers suddenly seemed unable to do even the simplest task, as she felt Mr. Darcy’s eyes upon her. She could not help but wonder what he was thinking. He stood so close and was being so amiable. She did not deserve such civil treatment, especially after she had erroneously accused him of injustices and now caused this accident – another accident! She unwittingly let out a groan.

“You are not feeling faint, are you, Miss Bennet?”

“Not in the least!” she said with a nervous laugh. “I am the one who usually handles cuts and wounds in the family. My mother and my sisters all unfortunately grow faint at the sight of blood.” She had no idea if she was speaking any sense or if he even cared.

When she had finished wrapping his hand, he thanked her, and he reached down and pulled out a pair of mud boots. “I keep these here, but unfortunately, there is only one pair.” He sat down and began putting them on, taking care with his injured hand.

Elizabeth shivered again as she felt the air begin to cool. “I am not afraid of a little mud,” she said with a slight chuckle. “As you… you may well recall when I walked to Netherfield.”

Darcy lifted his eyes to her, an odd smile on his face. “I do. You were wearing a good amount of mud on your ankles and on the hem of your dress when you arrived.”

Was he mocking her? Embarrassed, she said, “Well, it was for a good cause. At least, I considered visiting my sister a good cause.”

“I suppose it was.” He leaned over and picked up a rather large piece of heavy cloth. “But you have no need to worry about stepping in the mud today, Miss Bennet.”

“And how am I to manage to make it to the house? Or do you intend to leave me here to fend for myself?”

Darcy’s lips turned up slightly, and he gave one corner of the cloth to Elizabeth to hold, and he took the opposite corner in his other hand. “This oilcloth for the most part shall keep us dry.” He drew up the middle part over his head. “And, no, I do not intend to leave you here or make you trudge across the grounds in the mud, as much as you think I might.” He paused and looked intently at her. “Pray forgive me, Miss Bennet, but…” He suddenly gathered her up into his arms. “I intend to carry you!”

Her initial shock at being swept up into his strong arms took away her breath and all rational thought. She was jostled about slightly as he jumped and occasionally slipped through the slick mud, but he held her tight as he carried her towards the house.

Despite being somewhat sheltered by the large oilcloth, the rain still pelted her face, so she turned her face against his chest to shield it from the onslaught. When one wayward step almost brought them both to the ground, she quickly wrapped her arms about his neck, holding on tightly.

Surprisingly, Elizabeth was soon unaware of the pouring rain and the jostling of her body as he hurried across the grounds to the house. The only things she was mindful of were being held securely in the strong arms of Mr. Darcy and the feel of her face pressing against his chest.

He carried her up a short flight of stairs and stopped. Elizabeth could feel the heaving of his chest and the strong beating of his heart from the exertion. Hers was beating just as strongly, but for a completely different reason. She slowly lifted her head up and found him looking down at her. A tremor jolted through her as she found it impossible to turn away from his intense gaze.

“I think…” she began, her voice quaking, “that I can manage from here.”

Darcy gently set her down and opened the door. “I am certain you can, but this is the servant’s entrance, and it goes into the service areas and kitchen. It might be a little confusing to find your way through the house. If you wait while I remove my boots, I shall direct you back to your room.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied, feeling sheepish and unsteady on her feet. She could only wonder what he thought of her being here and everything she had done that had interfered with his well-regulated life. At least he was treating her civilly. He really had no reason to do so.

Darcy took off his boots as Elizabeth slipped out of his coat, and she handed it to him when he stood. He led Elizabeth through the back rooms, around the kitchen, and finally to a large hallway, where he stopped.

“Miss Bennet, my sister informed me that the doctor has given your uncle permission to walk short distances. There is a small dining room that is not a great distance from his room. I shall have our dinner served there, and you and your aunt and uncle will dine with us this evening.”

Elizabeth could barely think. Her heart still pounded from her encounter with him. “I thank you, but I do not…”

“Miss Bennet, this is not a request. I expect you to be there. You are guests in my home and have remained in your rooms far too long. I must insist on it.”

Elizabeth swallowed; her mouth was suddenly extremely dry. “Yes, sir.”

Darcy allowed a small smile and gave a satisfied nod of his head. “You may join us in the adjacent sitting room before the meal. I shall point the rooms out to you as we go so you will be able to find them later.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said softly.

They began to walk again and, at length, came upon the small dining room and then the sitting room, which he pointed out to her. As they approached her uncle’s room, she could only imagine what her aunt and uncle would think when they saw him at her side. She unwittingly shook her head, as she had feared the worst in encountering him, but he had proven to be exceptionally and surprisingly gracious.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner both looked up when they entered her uncle’s room. Their eyes widened when they saw Mr. Darcy with their niece, and it was a moment before either could speak. Elizabeth was grateful their initial response was somewhat subdued.

“Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner,” Mr. Darcy said.

Mrs. Gardiner was the first to reply. “Good day, Mr. Darcy. It is good to see you again.”

Mr. Gardiner then offered his greetings.

“Lizzy, we were worried about you when it began to rain and you did not return.” Mrs. Gardiner walked over to her niece, putting her arm about her. “But for the most part, you are dry. I am glad.”

“I did get caught in the rain.” Elizabeth laughed nervously. She felt a warmth travel up her cheeks as she recollected being held in Mr. Darcy’s arms. She could see the look of curiosity in her aunt’s expression and knew she would have a lot of explaining to do once the gentleman left. “Mr. Darcy… assisted in getting me back to the house without getting too sodden.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mr. Gardiner said. “First, your generous hospitality to us since the accident, and now this. We are much obliged to you.”

Darcy shook his head. “Think nothing of it.” He drew in a breath. “I have made a request of Miss Elizabeth that you join my sister and me and our guests for dinner tonight. There is a small dining room just down the hall, and a sitting room on this side of it. Please come to the sitting room at your leisure. My sister and I will be waiting.”

“Thank you very much!” Mrs. Gardiner said with delight.

“Mr. Darcy, we appreciate that very much!” Mr. Gardiner said. “But to assist in my walking, would you by any chance have a cane I could use?”

“I have a walking stick that I will have brought to your room.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I shall leave you now and look forward to seeing you shortly.” Mr. Darcy nodded and then left the room.

Mrs. Gardiner took Elizabeth’s arm and drew her into the room, closing the door behind her.  “Now you must tell us everything, Lizzy. Do not leave out a single detail.” She pointed to the chair. “I think you need to sit down, for I believe – at least I hope – that it will be a long story.” She suddenly laughed. “I think I need to sit down, as well!”

“Here, Aunt, you take the chair.”

“No, no. I shall sit next to Edmund on the bed.”

Elizabeth sat down and smiled. For the first time since coming here, she felt at ease, no longer having to hide or fear being seen. She was still not certain, however, what Mr. Darcy thought about her being here, but she was grateful their initial encounter was over.

After she had finished summarizing what had occurred outside and had received a few teasing remarks from her uncle and raised brows from her aunt, Harriet came with the walking stick for Mr. Gardiner.

“From Mr. Darcy for Mr. Gardiner,” she said.

“Why thank you!” he replied, running his hands over the smooth wood. “This is beautiful!” He looked over at Elizabeth, who had just told them about Mr. Darcy’s hobby of woodcarving. “Do you think Mr. Darcy carved this?”

“He may have,” she said. “In fact, I would not be surprised if this is the cane he is holding in his portrait.” Elizabeth walked over to look at it. “It is an owl’s head at the top. There is also a wood-carved owl in the library. He said he carved that one. I am certain he did this one, as well.”

When they finished admiring the workmanship of the cane, Elizabeth proceeded to answer the multitude of questions her aunt and uncle had concerning her encounter with Mr. Darcy. When she had done that to their satisfaction, she thought it best to retreat to her room to ready herself for dinner with him, his sister, and the Westerfields.

Chapter 8