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Love Among the Gifted
Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

“Lizzy!” Lydia called as Elizabeth collapsed. She was so tired. She had never strived so, pushing her gift and body to their limits and beyond. Exhaustion crashed over her like a wave. “Lizzy. Are you hurt?”

“Miss Elizabeth?” The Colonel’s voice called to her. The battle was not yet over. She clawed her way to her feet, leaning more on her sister than she was willing to admit. “Captain Cleveland is grievously wounded. Can you help him?”

She lurched to the fallen officer and saw his throat had been sliced. The blood was still seeping out of the incision. She placed both hands over the wound and reached deep to find enough power to connect with the Captain’s body. She was able to close the cut but forcing his body to produce new blood was more difficult. She found the worst damage was to his vocal cords. Once he was stable, she pushed his body to regenerate the center of his gift, hoping he would still have the control he previously had. But she was so drained. She did not think it was enough.

“Where are the other wounded?” she asked.

“Colonel!” a voice called from the east. They turned to see Mr. Chamberlayne coming out of the woods with ten men behind him.

“Ensign, take four men and start moving the wounded to a central place. Determine if the stables are safe. If so, use them. That’s where we’ll send the wagons. If not, set up as close as is practicable. Make sure you keep our men and theirs separate. If there are any of their men conscious, set a guard over them. The rest of these troops are to patrol this side of the house.”

“Sir!”

“I can help!” Lydia volunteered, smiling at the young subaltern.

“Miss … Lydia isn’t it?”

“It is, Colonel.”

“I saw your amazing performance earlier. Perhaps you could assist your sister to Meryton. We will be sending the wounded to the Red Lion. If she is in a condition to perform, she may be able to save many lives. But she is too exhausted to make it there safely on her own. Can you help?”

“Sir John?” Elizabeth was too fuzzyheaded to fully comprehend his purpose. He turned to her and winked.

“Oh! I know what to do. I think I saw it in the stables.” She ran off.

“I’ll keep her out of more trouble,” Elizabeth assured the older man. “And we’ll proceed to Meryton. I’ll be ready when the wounded arrive.” He nodded and jogged towards the front of the house.

Elizabeth wondered where Darcy was. She had not seen him since before the fighting began. She suspected he had heard Mr. Collins’ ridiculous ramblings. She was concerned that he might have drawn spurious conclusions from them. But she was too tired to pursue the matter. She would track him down on the morrow for a long overdue discussion.

When she got to the stables, she was happy to see they were not too badly damaged, though the horses and grooms were gone. She could smell that they had gone too far away. She doubted they would be seen before noon. Lydia was pulling an old pony cart. Elizabeth remembered seeing old Mrs. Sturbridge tooling around the area on it when the family still lived at Netherfield.

“You just get in the seat, and I can pull it. You’re tired, so you can rest. I’m not tired and I can get you to Meryton quickly.”

Elizabeth realized the impropriety, but her exhaustion precluded her from protesting. She also assumed that on this night, Lydia pulling a cart was the last thing people would find noteworthy. So, with a silent nod she climbed into the seat and held on while Lydia stepped between the shafts and started to run down the lane towards town. Elizabeth found she was actually enjoying the ride.

They arrived at the Red Lion just as Charlotte led the first of the guests into town. Elizabeth leapt from the cart and ran to embrace her friend. “Are you alright? Lydia said you got shot!”

“Bruised, but unbroken, I think. You know my gift.”

“Yes, but even with your unbreakable skin, a musket ball can cause you great trauma. Let me see…”

“No. There are worse wounded. I think Miss Bingley may have broken something in the woods.”

Elizabeth stretched out her senses and discovered that Charlotte was right about her own state. She was battered but not badly hurt by the impact.

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“Lizzy!” Her father embraced her. “I am very glad to see two of my wayward daughters are well. Have you seen Jane?”

“No …. Is she not with you?”

“No. I suspect she stayed to help a certain young man who joined the fight in the front of the house. I have not seen her since he separated from us.”

Her exhaustion left her very sort tempered and her concern for her most beloved sister caused her anger to flare. “Foolish, headstrong girl!” Elizabeth cried under her breath.

“May I suggest we get all these people into the inn,” Major Francis recommended. “I have sent word to Mr. Wickham at the encampment to send reinforcements to Netherfield.”

“Good idea, Major.” Mr. Bennet said.

“Sir John will be sending wounded here. We need to prepare a place. Perhaps Lady Lucas and Mother can organize the ladies in preparing a makeshift hospital.”

“Lizzy needs to rest,” Lydia, who had her arm around her friend Maria, insisted. “The Colonel said she needed to be ready for the wounded. She exhausted herself in the battle.”

“That sounds very reasonable.” Her father agreed. “Lizzy, why don’t you lie down until we are ready. Mr. Jones can triage the wounded for you.”

The rest of the night was a nightmare for Elizabeth, filled with the weeping and blood. When the wounded from the battle arrived, she spent all her remaining energy trying desperately to save what lives she could. Captain Hawthorne and Mr. Jones worked by her side, managing the patients whose treatment was within their capabilities and providing a buffer between her and the many who wanted her time and attention. Miss Bingley, for instance, was deeply offended that her sprained ankle was not deemed serious enough for Miss Eliza’s limited resources; but Captain Hawthorne was more than up to facing her affronted disapprobation.

At some point Elizabeth finally collapsed.

She woke the next morning. Someone had moved her to a room at the inn. Jane was with her, asleep in a second bed. Elizabeth reached out and touched her sister lightly on the wrist. She basked in her beloved elder sibling’s familiar comforting presence and detected nothing worse than bone deep exhaustion in her. She crawled out of the warmth of the bed and dragged herself to the small window. Outside the weak November sun hung high in the sky. It was almost midday. Though she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day and the coming night in the arms of Morpheus, she could not ignore the wounded she knew were waiting her in the improvised hospital.

As she moved around, she heard a scratching on the door. It opened, and Sally stuck her head in. “Oh, thank goodness,” the maid said. “I thought I heard someone stirring in here. I’ve clean clothes for you, Miss. I’ll bring them in, and you can change.”

“Thank you, Sally. You’re a godsend.” Elizabeth kept her voice low so as to avoid waking her sister.

When Elizabeth finally appeared below stairs, Captain Hawthorne and Mr. Bennet were waiting for her.

“How are you, daughter?

“I am better father. My body heals itself quickly enough, but I don’t know that there is enough of my gift left to treat a hangnail.”

“What you did last night was beyond belief,” enthused Captain Hawthorne. “As close to miraculous as I can imagine, though I do not mean to blaspheme. We did not lose a single person that reached you alive. I have never seen the like.”

“Please Captain …”

“Shall we spare my daughter’s blushes. It is true that none have died, but there are still several that will require either additional treatments or lengthy convalescences. But you can afford to rest for the day. Once your sister has joined us, I suggest we make our way home. You can return tomorrow, once you are better capable of using your gift.”

“Are Jane and I the only ones here?”

“Your mother and younger sisters returned to Longbourn late last night. Sir William and Mr. Harrington both volunteered their second carriages to convey people throughout the neighborhood until well after dawn. You and Jane were too exhausted to move.”

“Perhaps a light meal will help refresh me.” Her father agreed. So, Elizabeth sat and broke her extended fast with the two men. The surgeon gave her a precis of the condition of the different patients. Before the summary was complete, Jane had joined them.

As the three Bennets strolled home, Mr. Bennet said, “While you were sleeping this morning, a young man came to see me with a most unusual request. Can you guess who and what this might be?”

Jane blushed then replied, “Was it Mr. Bingley?” Elizabeth looked up and studied her companions. Jane was as red as she had ever seen her, but her smile was radiant. Mr. Bennet looked at this eldest fondly, but with more than a hint of melancholy.

“It was indeed,” her father answered. “And as you may have guessed he came to me to ask for your hand in marriage, dear Jane. Have you accepted him?”

“I have.”

“Are you certain this is what you want? Think not on your mother, or anyone else. This is a most important decision.”

“I love him father, and I think I can make him happy.”

“Of that I have not doubt. It is rather the opposite that concerns me.”

“You have doubts about Mr. Bingley?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, not as such. But I must admit that I doubt that there is any man worthy of either of you. I imagine you will do very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. I have given him my consent.”

“Thank you, Father! Tis too much!” she added, “by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh! Why is not everybody as happy?”

Elizabeth was overjoyed at her sister’s great fortune but wondered if she would ever find her own happiness. “What was Mr. Bingley’s sister’s reaction, I wonder?” she mused aloud.

“I am afraid I cannot say,” her father replied. “They had left in the early hours of the morning. I understand Mr. Darcy, who has gone to London to report the events of last night, sent a coach to retrieve them and Mr. Hurst. Mr. Bingley is going to stay in the neighborhood to see to the restoration of Netherfield. I understand he means to purchase it, so he and Jane will have a permanent home.”

“Mister … The others have all gone away?” Elizabeth changed her inquiry to be more general, though there was only one person whose absences she was truly concerned with.

“They have. And I do not think they mean to return.” Mr. Bennet said solemnly, as he took his second daughter’s hand.