“Her daughter is of a legal age but only just. If she and I spent an hour alone in each other’s company, I’m certain we would exhaust our conversation in the first five minutes and we would both be in agony before a half-hour was up. What I know of her interests, they are quite possibly suitable for a girl of her age. If I were forced to discuss any of them or worse still, hear about them, I would probably be ready to drown either or both of us in no time at all.”
“Not your ideal choice for a wife, then. There are surely others”
“Are you trying to talk your way out of our agreement, Miss Bennet?”
“I wish there were time for us to get to know one another better. The impressions that I have of you now are too conflicting.”
“And yet we must marry.”
Elizabeth wondered, “Even if you knew that it would not be my wish, you would hold me to the contract, Mr. Darcy? Would you want an unwilling bride?”
“Of course I would not,” although, as he said it, Elizabeth was sure that she heard a trace of hesitation or at least some ambiguity. It raised an unexpected sensation in her as he went on, “But a bride I must have and you traveled here to fulfill that role. If you wish to back out of our agreement, there may be little I can do to stop you. But if you ask me to abandon it from my side, I tell you I have no reason to do so and every reason against it.”
“Then please, Mr. Darcy, at least tell me your reasons.”
“When we are married I shall keep nothing from you. Nothing at all, Miss Bennet but until then, I have said all that I shall on the matter.”
After a pause, he told her, “I will say this, though. Part of the appeal for me of a mail-order bride arrangement was that it could be made on a businesslike basis. The very fact that a prospective bride and I would not know each other meant that we could be clear and straightforward in our dealings with one another from the start. We would be able to get along in a relationship that would be based in reason and not clouded by emotion.”
“But why would you want to live in a relationship that was founded without any, ‘emotion’ as you dismissively describe it? The feelings of the two parties are the basis of all of the best relationships.”
“Are you really so sure? Your relationship with your sister Jane seems to me to be quite wonderful, but you did not choose one another from a room crowded with prospective sisters. Is it not based on the fact that you found yourselves as sisters and grew to accommodate each other? Since she is the elder if her feelings had not taken to you when you were born, should she have asked that you be sent back and another sister brought on for her to try?”
“But our feelings for each other are deep. So much so that we are in pain whenever we are compelled to be parted.”
“And do you not believe that relationship has grown at least in part out of your proximity? Had you both been from different families and met in passing when you were toddlers, how would it have been? Do you think that an unbreakable bond would have sprung between you and bound you together, on sight, immediately and spontaneously? Would your two sets of parents have needed to set up house together for sake of it?”
“Mr. Darcy, I don’t know if you are aware that you can be quite vexing.”
On the way back to the house, Miss Bingley took Elizabeth’s arm and confided to her, “I do miss Mr. Wickham. I believe that you met him at the docks earlier?”
“What do you mean?”
“He is such good company. So dashing and so very gallant. Did you not find him so? He was here at Pemberley all the time, especially in the last days of Mr. Darcy senior. Mr. Wickham was a great favorite of the elder Mr. Darcy. They played cards and drank cognac late into the night. They would laugh, loud enough for the whole house to hear. But, as soon as Mr. Darcy died, on the very day of his death, Mr. Darcy the younger barred Wickham from ever returning to the house, forbidding him even to visit the estate.
“Old Mr. Darcy was so fond of Wickham that many of us thought there would be something in the will for him. Some even wondered if that was the fuel for Darcy’s anger against the man.”
“Was there not a provision or a bequest for him, then?”
“Ah, but that’s it, you see.” Miss Bingley’s hand tightened on her arm again. “Nobody knows. The will has been sealed. Nobody knows anything of the contents or provisions. Nobody, of course, except for Colonel Fitzwilliam. Attorney to the family and a man who Darcy keeps very close beside him.”
She held Elizabeth’s arm closer. “The reading of the will is not to be until the day of Mr. Darcy’s birthday. Darcy the younger, that is. The present Mr. Darcy. Unless some ‘special circumstances’ take place that could trigger its being brought forward.”
“What circumstances would they be?”
“Nobody knows. Again, nobody save for Colonel Fitzwilliam.” Miss Bingley’s eyebrow arched. “Isn’t it all intriguing?”
16
Mr. Bingley and his sister left to ride home after their walk. Mr. Bingley gazed longingly, looking pained back to Jane as they departed for their carriage. Miss Bingley cast a long glance at Mr. Darcy but Elizabeth was unable to read his reaction.
Mr. Darcy then declared that they must go to meet his sister. He took Jane and Elizabeth to the back of the house then up long staircases. Georgiana’s room was on the third floor of the house and at the very far end of a long, gloomy hallway.
Mr. Darcy opened the door quietly and with care. As they stepped into the dark bedchamber, his voice lowered and Elizabeth heard immediately the note of sorrow that crept into his words.
“I would have kept her nearer, in the main body of the house, next to me, if I could have, but the doctors would not allow it. They insisted that she be isolated and in as quiet a place as possible.”
In the center of the shadowy room was the white canopied bed, draped with white muslin curtains. Near by stood a small table and a plain armchair. Against the far wall was a low couch. In the middle of the huge bed like a small hump in a field of snow was the curled up body of a young woman. She slept, deeply and soundly. The arrival of Mr. Darcy, Jane and Elizabeth did not cause her to stir.
“She is pale, as you see. She sleeps sometimes all day. Even when she wakes, she is drowsy, itchy, beset with aches and pains. Often she is irritable and sometimes struggles to complete even a sentence. I would chase all of the doctors away but then I fear that she would be entirely without hope. So, they come, they try out their infernal elixirs and tinctures on her and her condition does not change.”
The small girl’s complexion was drained and her skin was translucent but in every other way, she looked in perfect health. Mr. Darcy’s frown trembled.
“She will sometimes go two days without waking. When she does wake, she does not become fully conscious. She is like a sleepwalker. She rises for some natural needs. She will take water and sometimes a little porridge.”
Elizabeth heard softness in his voice and she saw sadness in his eyes. When he reached out to stroke his sister’s forehead and feel for her temperature, his pain was evident in his eyes. The tender brush of his hand against his poor sister’s cheek and the way that he laid his fingers against her forehead, draped lightly like a cool cloth, Elizebeth found it all most affecting.
Jane stood on the far side of the bed and looked down, lost in compassion.
Elizabeth saw the man who was so proud and so arrogant just moments before now plainly hollowed out and pining inside for the suffering of his poor sister.
“She has been like this now for nearly five months. She will rise, sometimes once in a day, occasionally twice. But when she does she is barely sensible. Sometimes two or nearly three days will go by and she will hardly stir at all.”
Elizabeth asked, “What brought her to this condition, Mr. Darcy?”
“Nobody knows, Miss Bennet. Every physician in the county has visited and examined her, as well as some from much farther afield. Ultimately I decided that the family doctor is as good a charlatan as any of them and at
least I know him. I know his family and his home. If he lets her die, I can go around and blow his brains out.”
“That would not really be a remedy though, Mr. Darcy.”
“You think I don’t know that? I know that all of their talk about comas and fevers and sleeping sickness has done nothing for my sister. My father was alive and in reasonable health when she slipped into this black malaise. How will she cope when she recovers and finds he is no more?”
“So you have no idea as to the cause?”
“She had a traumatic experience – an affair of the heart – that gave her a terrible shock. Then she was riding a horse, newly imported from Africa, among some livestock, similarly imported. She contracted a fever. Then she took to her bed. From then on she has hardly done anything at all, she has practically not stirred.” Mr. Darcy bunched his fist and bit his knuckle.
Elizabeth hoped that either that the doctors’ pronouncements were incorrect or that what she had read of the disease they seemed to diagnose was incorrect. Off the entrance hallway the house, she had glimpsed a considerable library and resolved to spend time there in the morning.
Mr. Darcy’s face was drawn and gray. “The doctor came again this morning and left more of her pills. He said that he sees little more that can be done.”
“Have you faith in the doctor, Mr. Darcy?”
“Almost none, Miss Bennet. I believe all of them to be part leech and part charlatan, but what is one to do? I cannot simply despair, even though she seems to rouse less and less.” He turned and gestured to Jane, “Miss Bennet, Miss Bingley’s questions threw off my balance, but I have decided. You are the older sister and so I hope that you will be the more competent. You will stay here and care for Georgiana.”
Jane’s jaw slackened as he continued. “You will remain here with her. You will attend her night and day although, in truth she wakes only infrequently and at hours that have no routine or pattern. The times that she may rouse cannot be predicted. But that is, in my mind, all the more reason that a friendly and caring face be here, ready and waiting to assist her whenever she does.”
He showed Jane a cord that hung by the wall. “Any time that she does stir, other than in the calls of nature, any time that she shows any sign of consciousness or any distress, you must pull on this cord. It will ring a bell to let me know. Day or night, I will come straight away. Meantimes, she must take two of these pills in the morning and two in the evening.” The pills were large and pink, like one of those her mama took for her anxieties. “Usually she will rouse enough to be given the pills. If she does not they can be dropped onto the back of her tongue and be washed down with a small glass of water.”
Jane was pale. “But do you mean for me to be confined here, like a prisoner?”
“Not confined. Not exactly, but I do want you to remain here. Her wellbeing will be your responsibility. I will have your necessities brought here.”
“Now, Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes, Miss Bennet. Now.”
With a heavy heart, Elizabeth closed the door behind her. This would now be her room after all. As far as she could remember, tonight would be the first night of her life that she and her sister would spend apart.
As she and Mr. Darcy made the long walk to return from Georgiana’s room she had said as much to him, but he took it as if it were no of more importance than a remark about a passing cloud or the time of day.
When Elizabeth mentioned that his arrangement would prevent Jane and Mr. Bingley from having the chance to develop their connection, she was sure that she saw a gleam of satisfaction in his eye.
The enforced parting would be painful for Jane, too, and Elizabeth could hardly bear to think of her sister hurting.
Mr. Darcy had said that, as Elizabeth was to be married, the time for parting was almost due. This was a perfect opportunity for them both to adjust. He seemed to think that whatever he wanted was clearly the best thing for everyone and the sooner they would adapt to it the better.
With her mind in turmoil and her body exhausted, Elizabeth slept heavily and almost at once. Her dreams were marked with the face of Mr. Darcy, saying, “It could be made businesslike,” and Miss Bingley’s words, “Special circumstances,” and “Nobody knows.”
17
Before breakfast, Elizabeth made the long walk to Georgiana’s room. A tray was outside the door, showing that Jane had breakfasted already. As soon as Elizabeth stepped through the door, she and Jane embraced. Jane assured her that she was comfortable and well. There had been no movement or change in the patient. Georgiana looked to Elizabeth as though she had not moved a hair since she saw her the night before.
Looking at the patient, Jane said, “There has been no change. She rose in the middle of the night. It was like watching a ghost rise and make her way to the little bathroom. Her eyes were directed at me but she gave no sign of even seeing me.” Jane’s eyes were tired. “It was most distressing, Lizzy.” She reached up to stroke Elizabeth’s hair. “And how was your night, sister?”
“I slept heavily. But the bed is deep and comfortable.” Neither spoke about the pain of being parted or how they missed one another. It was understood between them and discussing it would not ease the hurt.
Elizabeth said, “He is a brute.”
“He wants only the best for his sister, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth knew that it was more than that, but she said nothing further on the topic.
On the way to the dining room for breakfast, Elizabeth encountered Mr. Darcy. His dark eyes flickered. “I hope you rested well, Miss Bennet.”
“I slept deeply, Mr. Darcy.”
“Were you uncomfortable? Please, tell me what you need. I will have servants sent to fix whatever you require immediately.”
“Please, don’t trouble yourself, Mr. Darcy. The room, the furniture, and the bedding were all as good as they could possibly be. There is nothing that any servants could do to make it better for me. But I thank you.”
Frowning, he said, “Would you join me in my study for a moment, please. there is something I must discuss with you.”
“It it anything that could possibly stand to be delayed while I get some breakfast for myself, Mr. Darcy?”
His lips pressed together. “Of course. Naturally. Forgive me. My study is here,” he indicated a heavy carved door, “I will wait upon your pleasure.”
Elizabeth nodded firmly, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” and she left for the dining room.
Her appetite was not great. From the buffet table, she took tea, a piece of toast, some juice and a spoonful of scrambled egg. Even that proved more than she could finish. The man was able to annoy her even while he was halfway to the far side of this ridiculously huge house. Why did they even need all these stairs and halls and rooms and opulence? Still, she recalled her glimpse of the library. That was something to look forward to.
Even though her breakfast was small, she dawdled over finishing it. She knew that she was putting off seeing Mr. Darcy again but it would not do. The thing had to be done and the sooner it was done the sooner she could take herself off to read. There was at least a chance of some comfort in this bright, bleak morning.
She could not prevent her feet from slowing with every step toward Mr. Darcy’s study. After she reached the heavy paneled door, she hesitated. When finally she knocked gently, his voice shot back like a cannon, “Come,” with a force that took her by surprise.
Elizabeth stepped inside and shut the door behind her. The study was a cavern, dark, intricate lair of manly business. Hefty bookshelves, important-looking maps, and oversized armchairs lined the walls. A bright window gave a view of the gardens but from where Elizabeth stood, it seemed small and far away
Mr. Darcy rose from a chair that could have been for an emperor or an admiral. He was behind a huge desk with a large blotter, some books, and four quills, stood in porcelain wells. A captains’ chair sat in front of the desk.
He rose to indicate the seat but Elizabeth said, “I think I wo
uld prefer to remain standing.”
A frown rippled across his brow. Her heart hammered in her breast. Inside she vibrated like the percussion of an orchestra and shuddered like tubular bells. She wished that she were seated and not standing against the door but her knees were too unsteady for her to risk attempting to move. Her breath caught in her throat.
Darcy sat back in his dark corner. He shifted and the huge chair somehow seemed too small to contain him. He looked about him as he brooded and fumed. He shifted again and then rose to his feet. Standing in the dark corner behind the desk, he seemed still too like a cornered animal. A big beast at bay.
Her nerves trembled as he rose to his full height. The room seemed to shrink and Lizzy’s pulse quickened. Then he paced. He bit and seemed to gnaw upon the knuckle of his tightly bunched hand. When he pulled his hand away, his head turned and he faced her. His eyes smoldered, burning into hers. Rage stormed over his face as the muscles in his jaw clenched.
Words burst from him in a rapid blast. His voice was low, hard, and firm, with a force that moved her back to lean against the wall for support.
“It cannot be contained. I will not hold back, Miss Bennet. You must allow me now to speak freely to you and to tell you of the feelings that have developed within me in the time since I have made your acquaintance. Powerful feelings have risen, feelings I cannot control or govern. Let me assure you that, as I am the master of so much, and I shall be the master of you, that I am truly the master of myself. My emotions, however strong, will not get the better of me and I will not impose myself upon you in any way beyond the extent of our agreement.
Urgently, Darcy Page 7