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Authors: Abigail Reynolds
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Jenny’s fists were in her mouth, but somehow not muffling her shrieks. She was staring at the woman in the other bed as if she were a creature out of nightmare.
Remembering the night terrors Lydia had suffered at a similar age, Elizabeth sat beside Jenny and gathered her into her arms. “Hush, Jenny. It was just a bad dream. It is over now. I won’t let anything happen to you. I am here and Mr. Darcy is here to keep you safe.” She continued in the same vein with soothing repetitions until Jenny’s screams subsided into sobs. She met Darcy’s eyes over the girl’s head.
He motioned to the woman. “Fetch us a light.”
Once she was gone, Jenny seemed a little calmer. Elizabeth pushed the girl’s hair behind her ears. “See? Everything is well, and you are safe in bed.”
Tears still running down her face, Jenny said, “Is it true, what she said?”
With some foreboding, Elizabeth said, “I don’t know. What did she say?”
“That my mama is… isn’t coming back.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes in sympathy with the girl’s pain. “No one can tell that for sure. It has been a whole day since anyone saw her. Could she swim?”
Jenny buried her head in Elizabeth’s shoulder. “N..No, but maybe she got to the other side somehow and can’t get back to us here.”
On the other side of the bed, Darcy was shaking his head. Elizabeth, surprisingly conscious of Darcy’s eyes on her, said, “I suppose it is possible.”
“She can’t be gone. She just can’t.” Jenny’s sobs began anew. “That means they’d all be gone, wouldn’t it?”
Having no consolation to offer, Elizabeth just stroked her hair. How terrible it must be for her to hear the news so unexpectedly in the middle of the night! She spared several uncharitable thoughts for the woman who was supposed to be taking care of her.
As if on cue, the woman returned, her hand cupped around the flame of a candle which she used to light the lamp by the bed. It provided little illumination in normal circumstances, but after sitting in the dark, the room seemed suddenly bright.
Elizabeth could see now that Darcy was still dressed as well, wearing one of Mr. Collins’s housecoats over his waistcoat and trousers. When had he returned to the parsonage? It must have been very late, since she had been in the sitting room eating her soup, and then… and then what? She must have fallen asleep, but then how had she come to be in her bed?
A lively doubt seized her. As her suspicious glance met Darcy’s, he flushed and turned away, rising to his feet and going to talk to the young woman in hushed tones.
That housecoat. It had not been her imagination. She had seen Darcy leaving her room when she was awakening, and he was wearing that housecoat. But what had he been doing in her bedroom while she slept? Had he only just brought her up to bed? That was a shocking enough thought, that he might have carried her in his arms. It was not as if it would be much more damning than riding with him that afternoon, but it felt more intimate somehow, especially when she remembered dancing in his arms in her dream. The timing of bringing her upstairs must have been remarkable to fit so closely with Jenny’s screams – or had it been?
And what in the world was she doing even thinking about this while comforting a child who had lost her entire family? Fortunately, fatigue seemed to be overwhelming Jenny’s sorrow, her sobs now interspersed with quiet moments. Sooner or later the girl was bound to fall asleep.
It was at least a quarter hour later when Elizabeth gently released Jenny’s head onto her pillow, but when she looked up, Mr. Darcy had already left the room.
***
Back in Mr. Collins’s room, Darcy checked his pocket watch. It was almost three in the morning. He must have slept half the night beside Elizabeth’s bed. How could he have done such a foolish thing? He had meant only
Remembering the night terrors Lydia had suffered at a similar age, Elizabeth sat beside Jenny and gathered her into her arms. “Hush, Jenny. It was just a bad dream. It is over now. I won’t let anything happen to you. I am here and Mr. Darcy is here to keep you safe.” She continued in the same vein with soothing repetitions until Jenny’s screams subsided into sobs. She met Darcy’s eyes over the girl’s head.
He motioned to the woman. “Fetch us a light.”
Once she was gone, Jenny seemed a little calmer. Elizabeth pushed the girl’s hair behind her ears. “See? Everything is well, and you are safe in bed.”
Tears still running down her face, Jenny said, “Is it true, what she said?”
With some foreboding, Elizabeth said, “I don’t know. What did she say?”
“That my mama is… isn’t coming back.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes in sympathy with the girl’s pain. “No one can tell that for sure. It has been a whole day since anyone saw her. Could she swim?”
Jenny buried her head in Elizabeth’s shoulder. “N..No, but maybe she got to the other side somehow and can’t get back to us here.”
On the other side of the bed, Darcy was shaking his head. Elizabeth, surprisingly conscious of Darcy’s eyes on her, said, “I suppose it is possible.”
“She can’t be gone. She just can’t.” Jenny’s sobs began anew. “That means they’d all be gone, wouldn’t it?”
Having no consolation to offer, Elizabeth just stroked her hair. How terrible it must be for her to hear the news so unexpectedly in the middle of the night! She spared several uncharitable thoughts for the woman who was supposed to be taking care of her.
As if on cue, the woman returned, her hand cupped around the flame of a candle which she used to light the lamp by the bed. It provided little illumination in normal circumstances, but after sitting in the dark, the room seemed suddenly bright.
Elizabeth could see now that Darcy was still dressed as well, wearing one of Mr. Collins’s housecoats over his waistcoat and trousers. When had he returned to the parsonage? It must have been very late, since she had been in the sitting room eating her soup, and then… and then what? She must have fallen asleep, but then how had she come to be in her bed?
A lively doubt seized her. As her suspicious glance met Darcy’s, he flushed and turned away, rising to his feet and going to talk to the young woman in hushed tones.
That housecoat. It had not been her imagination. She had seen Darcy leaving her room when she was awakening, and he was wearing that housecoat. But what had he been doing in her bedroom while she slept? Had he only just brought her up to bed? That was a shocking enough thought, that he might have carried her in his arms. It was not as if it would be much more damning than riding with him that afternoon, but it felt more intimate somehow, especially when she remembered dancing in his arms in her dream. The timing of bringing her upstairs must have been remarkable to fit so closely with Jenny’s screams – or had it been?
And what in the world was she doing even thinking about this while comforting a child who had lost her entire family? Fortunately, fatigue seemed to be overwhelming Jenny’s sorrow, her sobs now interspersed with quiet moments. Sooner or later the girl was bound to fall asleep.
It was at least a quarter hour later when Elizabeth gently released Jenny’s head onto her pillow, but when she looked up, Mr. Darcy had already left the room.
***
Back in Mr. Collins’s room, Darcy checked his pocket watch. It was almost three in the morning. He must have slept half the night beside Elizabeth’s bed. How could he have done such a foolish thing? He had meant only
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