Pride And Prejudice Fan Fiction ❯ Pride: Vice or Virtue? ❯ CHAPTER II ( Chapter 2 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Mr. Darcy got up from his place tangled in the bush, struggling to release the mud’s hold on him. His boot was finally released from the mud, as he tried to gain his dignity back. He quickly walked around his horse to the thing that caused the animals’ distress... or more accurately, who. Mr. Bingley quickly tied up the horses, then joined his friend a few yards away.
They looked down at a girl only a few years younger than themselves. The girl’s hair was matted and tangled, muddy, and dark from lying on the ground in the rain. It seemed to used to be tied back, yet the majority had escaped the ribbon tied around a third of her hair. She wore a simple, dark brown dress that looked as if it had been through many trials. The dress, which was originally meant to set right at the girl’s ankles, had tears and holes all the way up to her knees. Her stocking, showing through the tears, were torn, dirty, and barely held together in certain spots. Even her small cloth bag, which she seemed to grip most tightly, seemed to match her pathetic and dirty state. Her dark brown boots seemed to be the only thing about her that had held together through whatever tests she had been through.
Mr. Bingley stared down, blue-gray eyes wider than one would think possible. “Darcy, do you know this woman?”
“I was hoping you could answer the same question.”
They stared down at her for a moment longer.
“She seems to be unconscious, Darcy...” Bingley looked up, meeting his friend’s eyes, a great amount of worry pulsing through. “What should we do?”
Darcy looked down at the girl. She seemed to still be breathing. He cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t believe that we could just leave her here...” he thought to himself. He bent down, laying a hand onto her forehead. Her closed eyes squinted and her whole body shivered from his hand, which had been made cold from the rain. Mr. Bingley watched in slight incredulity as Mr. Darcy picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He then turned to Mr. Bingley. “I’ll ride with her on my horse. I’ll have to go at a slightly slower pace, so can you race ahead and let your house know of our arrival?”
Bingley nodded. “Of course... we’ll prepare a room for her immediately.” He turned around, untied his horse, then raced off.
Mr. Darcy watched his friend leave, then quickly went into action. As he walked over to his horse, which had grown much calmer during the discovery, the girl seemed to be drawn to the small amount of heat that his body created, and she unconsciously drew in closer to him. He jerked his head down, undoubtedly surprised. Her eyes flickered open for a second. Darcy’s intake of breath was immediate as he saw her regain consciousness for only a moment. Though it was not the fact that she had woken for a moment that surprised him so. Her eyelids then slowly closed over, and she slipped back into her sleep.
He blinked his eyes a few times, then continued what he was doing. He managed to lift her up onto the horse, having her sit straddling the horse. She leaned forward, resting her head onto the horse’s neck. The horse seemed to sense the urgency in Mr. Darcy’s manner and the gravity of the situation, and was as still as one could expect a horse to be. Darcy quickly walked around to the other side, undid the ties of the reins, and mounted the horse. He leaned forward to prevent the girl from slipping, and tapped the horse with his heels and turned the horse around.
Darcy went as quickly as he could allow, being careful to avoid any uneven patches of ground that could cause her to fall from the horse. His vision went from the path ahead to the girl, from the girl to the path. His eyes had hardened, but not with annoyance or dislike of the girl, but with determination. He was too proud to allow himself to leave her. In this case, one would supposed that his pride was his advantage.
When he arrived at the entrance of Netherfield manor, Bingley, along with a handful of servants and a physician who had been called, stood awaiting Darcy’s arrival. Darcy practically jumped off his horse as he stopped, turned, and gently guided the girl down into his arms. He carried her up the stairs while a few servants attended to his horse. He met Mr. Bingley at the top of the steps.
Bingley looked apprehensively at the girl. “In what state is she?”
“She seems to have some degree of fever, but beyond that, I can not tell.”
The physician came into step with Bingley and Darcy as they walked through the foyer. Caroline, Louisa, and Mr. Hurst were standing in the entrance of the foyer, which led to a different room, with looks of disgust at the state of the girl.
"My goodness, did you see that?"
"Yes, sister! She looked positively horrid! I wonder where they found such an animal."
A few female servants caught up to the three gentlemen while walking up the stairs, following close behind.
“Did you both find her unconscious, sirs?”
Darcy cleared his throat, then answered. He stared straight ahead, avoiding meeting any other’s gaze. “She regained consciousness for only a moment, then went back to the way she was. She has not improved since.”
The doctor nodded as they reached the top of the long staircase. Mr. Bingley stepped in front of the other two gentlemen and led them down the left hallway and down to almost the very end. He opened a door to his left, and held it open as Darcy strode in, followed closely by the doctor. Darcy placed her onto the bed, then stepped away to make room for the doctor. The doctor started his examination, assisted by the servants.
Mr. Bingley walked over and stood next to his friend. Darcy was looking down at the girl as the physician went to check her temperature. His face stayed as serious as usual, yet Bingley decided that something was different. He laid a hand on Darcy's shoulder. "Why don't we both sit down, Darcy? I am sure that you've had a very long ride back, and Mr. Jones will take care of the girl..."
Darcy nodded. He and Bingley sat in the chairs on the opposite side of the room. Mr. Bingley's focus shifted from outside the window, to a spot on the floor, to the girl's bed, to the doctor, to straight ahead, to picking a loose thread from his coat. Mr. Darcy's attentions were more fixated. He refused to let himself watch the doctor or the girl. He stared out the window.
The rain was now coming down quite hard. The storm had progressed into a violent lightning storm, though the worst seemed to be coming. Floods of water splashed down onto the windows, casting an eerie light about the place. Only two candles lit up the large room, which helped to create the dreary atmosphere.
Mr. Darcy's thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Jones a quarter of an hour later. The man cleared his throat, then announced that he was done with the examination. Darcy turned his attention away from the window to hear of the girl's condition. "She merely has a cold; nothing more. She has a fever, but it should break fairly soon. If she does get any worse, please feel free to contact me. Now, sirs, I will take my leave for I am dreadfully anxious to return to my home before the storm worsens to a higher degree." He bowed, then started to leave.
Mr. Bingley stood up. "Here, Mr. Jones, I will show you out." He then walked out of the room, followed by Mr. Jones, and then the door was closed.
Darcy then realized that he was the only one in the room with the girl. He stood up, feeling slightly awkward to be sitting in a room with an unconscious girl. The chair scrapped slightly against the floor, causing the girl to turn her head in surprise from the sudden noise. Darcy's eyes opened as he stared at the girl. She then sighed and resumed her peaceful state. He walked over to the bedside, standing right next to her.
The servants had brushed her hair and put the fronts back into a ponytail to get it out of the doctor's way. They had also washed her face and arms. Darcy looked closer at her bare forearms to see a large collection of scratches, scrapes and bruises. Thankfully, none seemed to be infected. Darcy then averted his attentions from her arms to her face. Her hair was a great deal longer than he had originally thought. Her bangs were grown out, and the hair seemed to set right above her shoulder blades. It seemed to automatically set into slight waves once it had dried more. The color was slightly lighter than regular brown, with a few red-lighter brown highlights on top from being out in the sun. Her nose was of a normal size, and a bit rounded at the end rather than pointed. A collection of freckles dotted her face
He longed to see her eyes again. He had only seen a flash of them, yet he yearned for more. They had quite picked his interest.
Darcy moved a bit closer to the bed, unconsciously. He then put a hand on her forehead. She was a lot less warm than before, which was certainly an improvement. He then moved his hand from her forehead, realizing the physical contact, and simply used it to lean on the bed. He looked down and, a mere three inches from his, laid her hand. She was a tad more tan that most women, but not in a displeasing way. Cuts seemed to cover her hand as well, though none were openly bleeding. She had one bandage covering, what seemed to be, a particularly deep wound. The bandage was wrapped around her wrist, over her palm, in between her thumb and index fingers, around the back of the hand, around the palm a few times, and then was finished back at the wrist.
Her hand then, seeming to feel that it was being watched, shifted slightly and turned over. It was now laying palm side upwards, as if inviting someone to touch it.
Darcy had a very sudden urge to pick up the hand and simply hold it, though he wasn't quite sure why. It could have been the way that it had shuddered from the cold, or how innocent the girl looked sleeping there. It could have been because of pity from the miserable state that she was in. It could have been a million things, yet he stopped himself, correcting himself in his manner.
"She is just a poor girl; nothing more than that. She shall most likely be out of Netherfield tomorrow..."
With that thought, and a severe mental lecture following, he turned around and went to the door. He opened it, and stepped outside. Yet, before closing it, he could not help but turn around, looking at the girl's sleeping figure before shutting the door.