Page 14 of Infamous Relations

That made Maria blush before she scurried out to do Charlotte’s bidding. Charlotte smiled before turning back to Elizabeth, taking the cloth from her brow and wrapping it around the ice she had brought up from the kitchen.

“Dear Lizzy,” she murmured softly. Carefully, she took another cloth, dampened it with a little fresh water and wet her friend’s lips, hoping to get her to drink a little, at least. Disheartened when Elizabeth did not lick at the moisture, she did not give up, but tried again, and again, forgetting about her own tea until it was quite cold. At last, she was rewarded as Elizabeth let out a slight sigh and licked at the water, her eyes opening briefly.

“Lizzy! Lizzy, can you hear me? ‘Tis Charlotte, oh Lizzy, please speak to me!”

Elizabeth’s eyes opened again, but they were unfocused, unaware of her surroundings. She closed them, not even turning her head to the side, and did not move again despite Charlotte’s urgings.

Dr. Trent, when he returned a little while later, was encouraging nevertheless, and full of praise for Charlotte’s efforts. “You have done magnificently well, Mrs. Collins. That she is even slightly responsive at this early stage is a wonderful sign, it is quite common for a stupor to ensue for a full twenty-four hours or more after a head wound of this magnitude has been sustained. Well done indeed, madam!”

Delighted at such happy news, Charlotte redoubled her efforts, changing to a healing tea instead of water at Dr. Trent’s recommendation. She was rewarded by Elizabeth opening her eyes again, indeed looking around, though she did not seem to see Charlotte, or the doctor sitting beside her.

“Where am I?” she asked in a slow voice quite unlike her normal tones.

“Lizzy, it is I, Charlotte, I am with you,” Charlotte told her. “Lizzy? Lizzy!” But her friend’s eyes had closed again.

“Hush, Mrs. Collins,” Dr. Trent soothed when tears began to trickle down Charlotte’s cheeks. “She does very well. Some confusion is inevitable. I hope that by tomorrow, she shall seem quite her old self again, though she must take care to avoid exertion for some time yet.” Gently, he took the wet cloth from Charlotte’s slack fingers and set it aside. “Please, sit down. You must get some rest and nourishment yourself.” He tested Charlotte’s untouched cup of tea, found it stone cold and shook his head. “I will have Miss Lucas bring you some more tea, and something to eat.”

“Of – of course,” Charlotte fished her handkerchief from her apron pocket, blotted her eyes. “I do not know how to thank you, Dr. Trent, you have been quite wonderful.”

He shook his head bashfully, cheeks colouring slightly. “I am only doing my job, Mrs. Collins. Time and again I have seen that devoted nursing may effect a cure that the most skilled physicians in the world could not. Miss Bennet improves thanks to your efforts.”

It was Charlotte’s turn to blush, and Trent left the room hastily, castigating himself. It was most inappropriate for him to be having tender feelings for a married woman! Even if she was married to a complete poltroon. He found Mr. Collins downstairs castigating the tearful cook because dinner was not ready to be served at precisely five o’clock. The assistant housekeeper from Rosings, Mrs. Soward, had finally arrived, but was doing nothing to assist the cook, simply standing by watching the poor woman be browbeaten by her employer.

“Mr. Collins!” Trent interrupted the tirade. “If I might have a word with you? No doubt your dinner will arrive on the table far more expeditiously if you allow your staff to proceed in preparing it!” He nodded to the cook, who gave him a tearful smile, and gave Mrs. Soward a hard stare. The woman jumped and hurried away, making herself busy quickly.

“What is it, Dr. Trent?” Mr. Collins said irritably, deprived of a victim for his annoyance.

“In your study, if you would, sir?” Trent gestured politely. Mr. Collins firmed his lips, but stalked ahead, leaving Trent to enter behind him and close the door. Trent watched with some distaste as Collins opened a concealed wall panel, withdrew a decanter, and poured himself a hefty glass of brandy.

“Trent?” Collins waved the decanter in his direction.

“Thank you, but no. I wished to discuss Miss Bennet’s care…”

“How soon can she be out of this house?” Mr. Collins interrupted him to demand.

Trent’s eyebrows climbed almost to his hairline. “I have not the pleasure of understanding you, Mr. Collins.”

“Miss Bennet has behaved in a manner quite unbefitting a gentlewoman and I will not have her in this house a moment longer than need be. Lady Catherine insisted that she be gone from under this roof by nightfall,” Mr. Collins paused to look out of the window, at the rapidly darkening sky, and scowled. “My lady wife declared it to be impossible since Miss Bennet is injured, but I am quite sure that the brazen hussy is not so wounded as all that. So I ask you again, Doctor, how soon can she be removed from my house?”

Utterly shocked, Dr. Trent had to fumble for a seat. “What is wrong with you, man?” he expostulated, when he finally found his tongue again. “Miss Bennet is grievously injured; had not Colonel Fitzwilliam found her when he did, she might — probably would — have died! Your attitude, and that of Lady Catherine De Bourgh, towards a poor young lady who is an innocent victim of…” he paused suddenly, realised that Mr. Collins could be no more aware of the true nature of Elizabeth’s injuries than his patroness “… a most terrible accident, whose greatest sin is to be so charming and virtuous that she garners the admiration of all whom she encounters, is frankly disgusting! And you, sir, you call yourself a man of God!” Disgusted, he stood up and moved to the door, turning only to say;

“Were it not a greater risk to move Miss Bennet now than not, I should have her removed to my own house for recuperation!”

“She has bewitched you too!” Mr. Collins shouted, quite beyond reason.

Dr. Trent’s face flushed, and he clenched his fists. “Not every person thinks only of the most disgusting possible motives, Mr. Collins,” he said coldly. “I would gladly sleep outside upon the cold ground, in full view of every person who should pass my door, rather than for one moment risk the slightest stain upon a lady’s reputation. It is a disgrace upon you and upon your profession that apparently you cannot feel the same way.” The door slammed behind him as he walked out.

Chapter Eleven

Darcy and Fitzwilliam’s valets were both rather exasperated to discover that their respective masters had changed their minds yet again, but being efficient servants, soon had their employers’ bags packed ready for departure. The horses were harnessed to Darcy’s carriage, the trunks loaded aboard, and the two gentlemen mounted their riding horses ready for departure.

Neither of them wished to take any further leave of Lady Catherine, so they departed without fanfare, traversing the five miles to the town of Sevenoaks without needing to pass the Hunsford parsonage, leaving the residents of that house quite unaware of their departure.

Arriving at the inn at about five in the afternoon, they found the innkeep rather confused as to why such important guests should wish to stay at his humble establishment, but very eager to please. The inn’s best rooms were soon put at their disposal and an admirable meal of pigeon pie, roasted pork and cheeses set before them in a private parlour.

After their meal, Fitzwilliam stood and stretched. “I had best go write some letters, Darcy old chap. Let the Major General know I will be delayed a few days. Would you like me to write to Father, inform him that Lady Catherine is likely to be impossible for a while now that you have finally told her you won’t marry Anne?”

Darcy nodded, eyes on the empty plate before him. “Thank you, Richard.”