A MONTH IN LONDON

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here is the first chapter of the fifth story that I have published on this website. This story begins with a serious medical emergency. My degrees are not in any medical field, so I had to use my imagination as to what would have been needed to be done in this situation and in what might have actually been undertaken some 200 years ago. I appreciate your comments, but please forgive my lack of medical expertise. Dr. Roni

Even though she had been up very late at the ball that Mr. Bingley had held at Netherfield, Elizabeth Bennet woke as early as usual, just as the sun was rising and lit up her bedroom with its first rays. She could see from the brightness that it promised to be a fine morning, so she decided to go on an early walk to think about the ball and the very strange behaviour of Mr. Darcy when he asked her to dance, something that he had not done with any other woman not of his party. She could not understand why she had been singled out.

She dressed and went down the stairs to the kitchen, where she said good morning to the cook and took a bun that was still warm from the oven. She could not restrain herself but began to nibble on it even before she went outside. As it was late November, the air was cool, but not too cold, especially as her usual brisk walk kept her warm. Fortunately, the weather had been quite dry, so there was no mud to worry about. Of course, she would have gone for her walk even if there had been, to the detriment of her walking boots.

Her thoughts about the ball must have unconsciously directed her feet, as she found herself walking in the little-used lane that marked the boundary between her father's Longbourn estate and Netherfield. Her thoughts kept going back to the very unexpected request for a dance from Mr. Darcy—he who had consistently held himself aloof and obviously better than every person in Meryton. To her recollection, he had never even spoken to any resident of Meryton beyond very brief monosyllables, and then only in response to direct questions. During their dance, she almost had to force him to say anything at all. She could not fathom why he had asked her when he so obviously did not understand that dancing was used as an excuse for polite conversation between ladies and gentlemen, so they have an opportunity to get to know each other. She found it difficult to believe that he did not understand this, so either he was simply unused to making conversation with people he did not know well, or that he considered himself too far above her to bother to talk to her. If this was the case, why on earth did he ask her to dance in the first place?

Elizabeth had several mysteries in her mind: why did he bother to show up at the ball at all, why did he single out her, of all people, to dance with him, and why would he not talk to her. She supposed he showed up only because Mr. Bingley was his friend and it was obvious that Mr. Bingley greatly enjoyed being out in company, especially when the company included attractive young ladies, like her sister Jane. As for why he had chosen her, she had no idea, even though her best friend Charlotte Lucas had suggested that he kept looking at her as he admired her and not because he was looking for reasons to criticize her. She was sure Charlotte was wrong as he had made no attempt to be friendly with her or even to try to get to know her at all. Even though she had spent several days in his company when she nursed Jane at Netherfield, she just could not understand him at all.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed a horse galloping in the lane toward her. This surprised her as she knew this lane was rarely used. She could not tell who the rider was and she did not recognize the horse. She stopped and stepped to the side of the lane to keep out of their way. Just then, she noticed that a large tree branch had fallen across the lane not far from her. As it was not too large, she knew the horse would be able to jump it with no difficulty. She stood there admiring the horse and, especially, its rider. He appeared to be tall and in firm command of the horse. He saw the branch and appeared to be ready for the jump. Just before the horse jumped, a fox ran from under the branch, startling the horse, making it abort its jump and turn aside from the unexpected movement almost under its feet. The rider was not ready for this sudden turn and he flew from the saddle, well over the branch, landing with a heart-stopping thud almost at Elizabeth's feet. The horse ran into the bush along the road and disappeared.

The rider lay there on his side with one leg under him at an unnatural angle. Elizabeth could now see his features, and saw, to her horror, that it was Mr. Darcy himself. No matter how disgusted she felt about him, she only saw a man moaning in pain, so she went to him and knelt beside him. "Mr. Darcy, can you hear me? It is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I can see that your leg must be broken. You are lying on it, so I have to get it out from under you. I have to roll you onto your back. This is going to hurt."

Even though everything about her upbringing as a lady taught her that she should never touch a man who was not related to her, she knew that she had to get him off the leg that was under him. As she was considering what she had to do, her memory of a very similar event that took place just last year flashed into her mind. She had been out visiting some of Longbourn's tenants when a commotion at the next farm caught her attention. She ran over to find that the farmer, John Clark, had broken his leg above the knee. Someone had the presence of mind to send for the surgeon, Mr. Cunningham, from Meryton. He arrived just after Elizabeth and immediately took control of the situation.

Being her naturally curious self, Elizabeth stood and watched everything that Mr. Cunningham said and did. He saw her rapt attention, so he talked about every step that he carried out, including the reasons why he did each. He stressed the importance of not doing anything that might move the broken bones very much as the jagged ends could easily catch a blood vessel and rupture it with serious, sometimes even fatal, results. Seeing that Mr. Darcy was in great pain, she feared that he might thrash around and move the broken bones. She remembered that Mr. Cunningham had said that too much movement by the patient could lead to those serious results. She knew she had to get his weight off that leg. This meant that she had to roll him onto his back while minimizing the movement of his leg that was obviously broken.

"Mr. Darcy, I have to do this, so do not fight me. Please try to relax. Whatever you do, do not move your leg." She looked carefully at how he was lying. She could see that his good leg was crossed over the broken one, and that, if she rolled him, his good leg would jar the broken one. She took hold of his foot and carefully lifted it off his broken leg and out of the way. Then she went behind him and put her hands on his shoulder. She looked at his face and saw that he did not appear to be fully conscious. With difficulty because of his weight, she carefully rolled him onto his back, watching for any movement of his broken leg. As she saw only the slightest change in its position, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She was looking down at him when he opened his eyes. "Have I died and gone to heaven? You are beautiful. Are you an angel?"

"Mr. Darcy, please. I assure you that you are still alive and I am not an angel, just Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You must not be fully awake as you first called me only 'tolerable' to look at even before we were introduced, certainly not 'beautiful.' You were thrown from your horse and you have a broken leg. Whatever you do, do not move."

Darcy seemed to wake up fully as he looked at her with awareness in his eyes, even while he grimaced in pain. "When did I call you only tolerable? You are one of the most handsome women of my acquaintance. If I said that, I was both very wrong and very rude to you. I can only beg for your forgiveness. My leg hurts a lot. I assume that is the one that is broken?"

Darcy raised his head and looked at his leg. "I can see that it is not straight above my knee. It must be broken. Why did you not just go for help?"

"I could not leave you here alone. Please listen to me. Just last year, one of our tenants had a broken leg in just about the same place as yours. I was there when the surgeon came and he talked about everything he did while he was doing it. He stressed how important it was that the broken leg must not be moved, or the jagged ends of the bone could easily rupture a blood vessel with very serious results. He said that this could easily be fatal, so do not move, no matter how much it hurts. He said that it was very important that the bone be set as soon as possible to make sure that it is not jostled at all. He said that a person in pain could not help but move to try to ease the pain.

"I saw him set that leg. He held on to the leg just above the knee and had two men hang on to Clark's shoulders so he could pull the bone ends apart, then he moved them so they fit together. He said someone had to hold the man still or pulling the leg would just pull the whole person and just cause more damage. So, we need to set your leg right away, but I cannot do it without some help. I do not know what to do."

"Can you not do it by yourself? What if I brace myself?"

"That would not work as you have nothing to hang on to. In any case, the pain was so bad that Clark passed out."

"What if you braced your foot against me when you pulled my leg?"

"Mr. Darcy! That would be most unseemly. I had enough trouble just holding your shoulder to roll you over."

"Miss Elizabeth, do you trust that surgeon?"

"Yes, he has many years of experience with many different kinds of farm accidents."

"So, you believe him when he said that the bone should be set as soon as possible, or the results could easily be fatal?"

"Yes. But what can I do to brace you?"

"Put your foot up against me between my legs so you can keep me from moving while you pull on my leg."

"Mr. Darcy! I cannot even look at you there, so how could I put my foot there?"

"Please, Miss Elizabeth, I trust you. I do not want to die. Please do it and we will never tell anyone what you had to do."

Elizabeth blushed bright red, but moved very slowly and carefully so her legs were under his broken one. She very cautiously lifted it into her lap so she could get a grip above his knee. "Please do not look at me."

"Wait! You cannot keep your boot on. I understand that you may not know the details of a man's person, but if you keep your boot on, you will push on parts of me that are very sensitive. Please take it off."

She did not argue but carefully leaned down, loosened the laces, and removed her boot.

"Now, very carefully put your foot as low on me as you can, then move your foot up gently until you feel you can brace yourself." She did this and could feel her toes move something up as she moved her foot. She closed her eyes so she would not think of what her toes were touching.

"Now I think I can do it. I can see how I have to move your knee to get the ends of the bone in the right place. Do not fight me and try not to tense your leg muscles. This will hurt a lot. I remember that Clark passed out when Mr. Cunningham pulled. I have to pull until the ends of the bone are separate, and then move your knee until the ends are lined up. Then I have to ease the pressure so the ends come together. If I do it right, the bone will feel smooth. Mr. Darcy, please forgive me, but I have never touched a man's leg before. Just do not look at me. Are you ready?"

Seeing him nod, she braced her leg against him, then held his leg just above the knee and pulled slowly but firmly. She almost stopped when he let out a horrible moan, but she forced herself to keep pulling. This proved to be much more difficult than she had thought, so she had to pull with all her strength. As soon as she thought the ends were apart, she moved her hands to line up the broken ends, and then slowly eased her pressure. There was no further sound from Mr. Darcy, so she assumed he had passed out from the pain. To make sure she had the bone lined up, she gently moved her hands up along his leg. While she tried to keep her thoughts impersonal, she could not help but admire the muscles that she was feeling. As she felt no lumps, she hoped she had done it right and that the broken ends of the bone were now properly in place. She was glad that Mr. Darcy still seemed to be out as she doubted she could have run her hands up his leg if he had been awake. She hoped that she would not have any impure thoughts about touching his leg, but, in the back of her mind, she could not forget what his leg felt like.

She thought of what Mr. Cunningham had done next, and then remembered he had placed smooth pieces of wood on the leg and tied them tight to keep the break immobile. She looked around and saw that the only possible pieces of wood that she could use were branches off the tree that had fallen. She went over to it and broke off a number of pieces that were the straightest. She brought these back to Mr. Darcy and shortened them to about the right length. She was not sure what she could use to tie them onto his leg, and then decided to sacrifice her petticoat. She tore strips off the hem, with some difficulty. She had trouble keeping the wood in place along the broken bone, but finally managed to tie them fairly tightly in place.