I chose today’s picture because these Wednesday Story Connection posts (along with the What’s Up Wednesday ones) are going to take a siesta during the month of August. My hubby is on vacation, and I plan to take a few days off to do things with him. I am also behind on writing projects, so I need to free up some time for that. I plan to pick up the Wednesday posts again in September – probably mid-month.
I was able to remember a story where Mr. Darcy sleeps in a chair next to Elizabeth’s bed, and I have extracted a portion of that story below for your reading pleasure.
Waking to Mr. Darcy is in Kindle Unlimited, so it is only available on Amazon. If you don’t already have this book in your library, I decided just now to set it to free for one day — TOMORROW, August 8 — as a totally random surprise.
Enjoy!
Darcy slept in fits as best he could through the night, waking now and again to check on Elizabeth and change the cloth on her forehead. When the first rays of morning were attempting to push their way through the clouds that refused to disperse, Bingley rose, made tea, and ensured that Darcy had both tea and something to eat before donning his coat and hat and heading out into the rain.
Darcy paced the cabin for a bit, allowing his legs to feel the pleasantness of movement after sitting for so long. He gathered Elizabeth’s clothes, which were dry, folded them and placed them in the wardrobe next to his own things in the bedroom. Then, with book in hand, he returned to his position of watchfulness at her side. She was still warm, but not frightfully so. The fever did not seem to be rampant. He lifted the blanket from her leg and checked her injury, satisfied that it was doing well, he opened his book and began to read. The words travelled through his mind, one after the other, but none of them made a morsel of sense. He reread the passage, but still, the words held no meaning. He placed the book on the table near the bed. Perhaps, he would try again later. He sought for something to do that would occupy his time. His eyes kept returning to the wardrobe. Ah, her stocking needed repair. He was not proficient with a needle and thread, but he was not without some skill. If she were to wear them home, she might appreciate that the one not have a large hole in it. So, he gathered what he needed and set to the task of repairing the damage her fall had done to the item of clothing.
He was just tying off his work when she moaned softly and rolled to her side, facing away from him. She drew her knees upward and hissed.
Darcy’s heart beat rapidly in his chest. He was happy that she was beginning to stir, but he was also nervous about her reaction to finding herself here, with him. He put his needle away and folding her stocking, returned it to the wardrobe.
“Mr. Darcy?”
He turned to see Elizabeth rubbing her eyes and looking at him in confusion.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Why are you here?” She attempted to sit up.
“Please stay lying down,” insisted Darcy. “You are not yet well.” He took his seat near her once again. “Do you remember falling?” he asked, watching her eyes closely to see if they would look distant or focused.
She nodded her head and winced.
“So you did injure your head,” he said with a small smile. “I did not feel any lumps, where exactly does it hurt?”
She still wore a look of confusion, but her eyes were focused. “Here.” She placed a hand on the right side of her head. “I stumbled and hit my head on a tree, which caused me to lose my footing altogether, and I fell.”
“Cutting your leg?”
She blinked. “Yes. There were some branches near where I fell. One of them caught my leg.” She moved her left leg slightly. “It is very sore.”
“It was no mere scratch,” said Darcy. “It took several stitches to close it.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “I am afraid my needlework is not a fine as yours would be, but it has managed to hold the wound closed.”
She began to sit once again. “You? You stitched my leg?”
He helped her to sit, drawing a pillow up to rest behind her back. “I would prefer that you remain lying down,” he murmured. “You are still slightly feverish and should not do anything to worsen it.”
Elizabeth would have taken exception to his comments if it had not been for the tender tone of concern with which they were delivered. She placed a hand on the sore spot on her head. Her brain must be thoroughly addled if she was attributing such sentiments to the dour and disapproving Mr. Darcy. The movement caused her to take note of the garment she was wearing. Her eyes grew wide. “What am I wearing?”
Darcy grimaced. His heart began to beat a rapid rhythm. “We must talk, but I am not certain you are well enough yet.”
Remember that Waking to Mr. Darcy is free in the Kindle store tomorrow, August 8!
