by Don Miller
After a little more discussion it was agreed they would stay with the doctor and the servants were instructed to bring the luggage in. The three guest bedrooms were all large with nice sitting areas and dressing rooms, so Darcy and Elizabeth and Col. Fitzwilliam were very pleased with their accommodations. When they were called to dinner about six o’clock, Mrs. Thompson and the rest of the staff had set out an excellent meal and the three guests, the doctor, and his son had a very pleasant conversation. Elizabeth was pleased the doctor did not ask them about why they thought Wickham and Lydia were in Somerset, unmarried, and travelling such a long distance in a curricle.
After dinner was finished and they all went into the sitting room, Mrs. Thompson came in to tell Elizabeth Lydia was awake and would like to see her, so she excused herself and went to Lydia’s room. Mr. Morgan was just leaving, having gone to check on her immediately after dinner, and told Elizabeth Lydia seemed to be feeling better, but he expected the pain would start to affect her again soon. When she walked in, Lydia was clearly happy to see her again. “Lizzie, you cannot know how much it means to me to have you here. I have felt so alone because I cannot remember anything. It is so good to know that someone cares about me. Can you tell me about me and Mr. Wickham and our family?”
As Lydia reached for Elizabeth’s hand, Elizabeth told her she would be glad to tell her and began by telling her she was probably not married to Wickham and what they knew about her disappearance. Lydia was obviously very relieved to hear that news. “Somehow I knew I could not be married,” she said. “I know I cannot remember anything, but still, I just did not feel married. I cannot explain it any better than that.”
Elizabeth sat and talked with Lydia for over an hour, describing her sisters and her parents and her aunts and uncles. When Dr. Morgan came in to see how Lydia was doing, Lydia told him everything hurt, but she knew she would get better now Elizabeth was there. She said she would like to talk to Elizabeth more, but the pain was getting to be more than she could endure. Therefore, Dr. Morgan gave her an evening dose of laudanum and sat with her and Elizabeth until she was asleep. In answer to Elizabeth’s worry about the use of laudanum, he told her he had not given Lydia any while she was unconscious, was only giving her minimal amounts at the present, and would take her off of it completely as soon as she had more tolerance for the pain and herbal remedies would help. Being assured Lydia would sleep for the night, Elizabeth joined the others in the sitting room and spent the evening in conversation with Dr. Morgan and his son.
That evening when they went to bed, Elizabeth told Darcy about her talk with Lydia, “Her usual exuberance was not in evidence. I wonder if this amnesia lasts for a long time, if it will change her personality. I hate to admit it, but I enjoyed talking to her this time more than anytime I can remember in the past. She was quiet, listened attentively, and asked many good questions.”
“I do not know much about amnesia,” admitted Darcy. “I cannot imagine what she is going through, and I cannot imagine what her life will be like if she can never remember. But if the amnesia makes her forget all the bad habits she has developed growing up, it may almost be a blessing in disguise. Maybe we can pray for what to me would seem the best of both worlds: she remembers some of the past, but not all her bad habits.”
As Lizzie cuddled up to him, she said, “I do not know what I wish for, but I do have hopes my leaving and this Lydia situation will make Papa and Mama take another look at the family and be the parents they should be, particularly with Jane leaving also. “
As he nuzzled her neck and started rubbing her back, he said, “I think what you need is something to take your mind off of all that has happened, and I think I know how to do that.” And he did.
Chapter 23: Whither Wickham
The next morning Elizabeth, Darcy, and Col. Fitzwilliam met for breakfast at 8:30. Dr. Morgan was already out on a call and Mr. Morgan was tending the patients in the hospital wing, which included three others besides Wickham and Lydia. Elizabeth, Darcy, and Col. Fitzwilliam were trying to decide what to do for the next several days.
Col. Fitzwilliam had to make a decision. He had come with the Darcys because he had thought he might have to take Wickham to the local militia authority and have him imprisoned and eventually returned to his own regiment now quartered in Brighton. There was even the thought Wickham might be dead and they would have to decide what to do about having him buried. Because Wickham was unconscious and his fate still undetermined, Col. Fitzwilliam could not decide whether he should wait and see if he recovered or should go back to London and let Darcy handle whatever happened. His concern was that he knew, because it was a military matter, he would be more equipped than Darcy to handle whatever problems or questions might arise.
Originally he had hoped to return to London and travel to Devonshire with his betrothed. They were to sail on Lord Monttard’s personal ship with the Denbys and Matlocks to Plymouth and then travel by carriage for a little over half a day to the Denby and Monttard estates. But he had told Margaret that if circumstances arose for which he thought he should stay in Somerset, he would travel to Devonshire with the Darcys. After much cogitation, he had decided the potential need for him in Somerset was more critical than his need for an extra week with his betrothed. Having made this decision, it was necessary he immediately send an express letter to Margaret to tell her of his plans.
“I have decided to stay with you and go to Devonshire with you, rather than return,” he told Elizabeth and Darcy as they sat at the breakfast table. “I want to make sure things are taken care of the way they should be with respect to Wickham. I do not want him to ever be a threat to our families again. I need to see him in the hands of the proper authorities before we leave, that is, if he recovers before we leave. If he does not recover, then we need to see to his remains. As much as I dislike him, he was a childhood friend and deserves a decent burial.”
“It certainly seems more reasonable to me,” replied Darcy, “for you to stay with us, just because the ride back to London would be brutal. I am sure you would try to make it in two days and that is a lot of hard riding. I can appreciate you want to be with Margaret. I know that once I was betrothed to Elizabeth, I could hardly stand being separated from her, but in any case you will be with her within two weeks. Whatever happens, we need to leave here within 8 or 9 days. Hopefully the Bennets will be here in a 5 or 6 days, and then we could leave even earlier, depending on Wickham’s condition.”
“I agree with my husband, Richard. As much as I know Margaret would like you to be with her, I am sure she would understand and would rather you not risk your health to hurry back to her. I suggest you write your letter and then you both go to town to see about sending the express to the Bennets and the express to Margaret.”
As Col. Fitzwilliam went off to his room to write his letter, Elizabeth went to see Lydia, while Darcy went outside for a walk around the estate and to see how his servants were doing. After ensuring the servants were comfortable, he spent some time with his horse, where he was joined by Col. Fitzwilliam, and they rode into town to see if they could find a post office where they could send the mail by express. The postman assured them he could have the letters to London and Meryton in two days, so they paid the fee and returned to Dr. Morgan’s house, where they immediately went to join Elizabeth and Lydia. When they walked in the door, both Elizabeth and Lydia were giggling and Lydia was looking much happier. As they entered, Elizabeth arose and took an arm of each gentleman and said, “Lydia, this is my cousin, Col. Fitzwilliam and this is my husband, Mr. Darcy, whom I have been telling you about. Do you not agree I was correct about him?”
Darcy looked very concerned, wondering what Elizabeth had said about him, and seeing the look, Lydia burst into laughter. “Oh, Lizzie, you are right, he is very handsome, but he does look very severe. Do you think he is unhappy with us?”
“I do not know.” Giving Darcy her biggest smile, she asked him, “Are you unhappy with us?”
Not being able to resist her big smile, he gave one back to her, showing his teeth and dimples, and once again Lydia laughed. “It is true. It is a wonderful smile. You know, Mr. Darcy, you should smile all the time. And how about you colonel, do you like to smile?”
Giving her a big smile, he said, “Indeed, I do. Unlike my sour faced cousin here, I smile all the time. He is serious enough for both of us. I tried for years to cheer him up, with no success, but your sister managed to do it in a few days.”
Looking again at Darcy, she said, “I can believe it. But I wish I could remember what I thought of you before.”
“I will not tell you,” he said, with a smile. “It is probably better you do not remember. I am not the same man now, and I would prefer you only know the man I have become since I met your sister. I will make you a deal. We will start over from here. We will forget what we used to think of each other. Both of our judgments from then were probably a misjudgment of what we are now.”
Lydia hesitated before answering, and then said, with a sigh, “I suspect that will be much easier for me to live up to that agreement than you, since I do not know if I will ever remember what I thought of you. But if I do, I will try to live up to my side of the bargain. Lizzie has not said so directly, but she implied you may have thought me somewhat un…..” She stopped, trying to think of the right ending. Finally, she continued, “Uncontrolled,….. unladylike,…. undisciplined, take your pick.”
“I see your sister has given you more details than I expected. I have to admit, all of those would have applied.”
“It was my own fault she had to tell me. I would not let her avoid it. Not knowing about other people is one thing, but not knowing anything about yourself is the worst. I have no sense of who I am and now I am not sure I want to know any more. Maybe I just need to be a new me.”
They could see that she was grimacing with pain, so Elizabeth excused herself for a moment while Darcy and Col. Fitzwilliam stayed with Lydia. She found Mr. Morgan coming out of one of the other rooms and said she thought Lydia was feeling the pain again. Mr. Morgan went with her to Lydia’s room, checked her pulse, felt her forehead, and apologizing, asked Mr. Darcy and Col. Fitzwilliam to leave while he felt her rib cage under her left breast to see if the swelling was down and if she felt much pain when he put pressure on that area. She told him it was not as bad as previously, but it still hurt quite a bit, and her leg under the splint and wrapping itched and felt very hot. He recommended Elizabeth leave and come back later while he changed the wrapping and checked to make sure there was no infection. Elizabeth leaned down and gave Lydia a kiss on the cheek and told her she and her husband and cousin were going for a walk in the village, and she would be back to see her after lunch.
True to their word, the threesome walked toward town to see what they could see. They could see the beautiful cathedral from the distance and wanted to see it, as well as other things they had heard about, including the Bishop’s Palace and the wells after which the city was named. It was a very attractive little city with a bustling market place, and being clearly out of place, they were stared at by those they passed. Darcy unconsciously put on the stone face he tended to use in public when encountering those with whom he was not familiar, and Elizabeth, seeing it, stopped him, stepped around in front of him, and looking him in the eye, said, “William, I will not walk with a sour faced man. If you insist on donning that look, I am afraid Richard and I are going to have to walk by ourselves. It is a pleasant town and pleasant people, so if you are going to walk with me, you have to smile just a little and nod your head at them occasionally, and they will not think we are haughty strangers who think we are too good for them.”
He looked at her in astonishment, while Richard could hardly keep from laughing. “I was not that bad,” he said.
“How would you know? Did you look at yourself in a mirror? You were looking the way you used to look in Meryton and if I accomplish nothing else in this marriage, I am going to teach you to look and act more pleasant among strangers.” She looked at him and smiled, “I smile just because I love you and am happy to be on your arm. Cannot you just be happy to be with me and let everyone know it?”
He looked at her sincere and smiling face and thought, “God, how I love this woman. Why am I so stern and unwelcoming to strangers when she is not? This is certainly one area in which being with her should improve my disposition.”
“You are right,” he acknowledged, “There is no reason for me to be uncomfortable or unhappy when I am with you. So, give me your arm again, and I will so my best to show everyone what a happy couple we are.”
Col. Fitzwilliam, chuckling and taking her other arm, said, “I am sorry he gave in without a protest. I would have loved to walk off with you on my arm to see what he did.”
The rest of their walk was much more pleasant and Darcy, to Col. Fitzwilliam’s amazement and Elizabeth’s delight, actually exchanged greetings with many others they saw on their walk. They went by many of the sites they had wanted to see, but did not stop, vowing to come back another time to see them in more detail. Elizabeth felt they should hurry back to Dr. Morgan’s house, so they could eat lunch and she could go sit with Lydia again. That afternoon she intended to read some Shakespeare to Lydia and see how she liked it. Before the accident, Lydia could never listen to anything like Shakespeare for more than about five minutes. It bored her and she wanted to be off doing something else. If she could stand listening to Elizabeth read it or should even enjoy it, then Elizabeth would know that her personality had truly changed.
When they were joined by Dr. Morgan just before lunch, he gave them some very disturbing news, “I am afraid I cannot wait any longer. Mr. Wickham’s leg is not getting better and it shows signs of gangrene. I am going to have to send him in our ambulance wagon to Bridgewater.” Looking at Darcy and Col. Fitzwilliam, he continued,” Daniel will ride with the wagon and one of my servants will drive. I expect one or both of you wish to go with him. Once he has his operation, he will have to stay there to recover. Do you think the militia will take charge of him?”
“I am certainly going,” responded Col. Fitzwilliam. “I will talk to the colonel of the battalion to see what can be done about Wickham. I am sure I can get them to take him off of your hands.” Turning to Darcy, he said, “You are, of course, welcome to come, but I can certainly understand if you want to stay here. We will clearly have to stay overnight.”
Darcy looked questioningly at Elizabeth. She immediately said, “Do not look for direction from me. You know I would rather have you here with me, but I suspect I can survive a night without you if you can survive it without me. If you feel it is your duty to go, then go.”
Darcy hesitated a minute, and then asked, reluctantly, “Richard, can you give me a good reason why I should go?”
“No, but I can give you a really good reason for not going.” And so it was decided.
The doctor had already prepared Wickham for transport, therefore the wagon and the riders were leaving the Morgan estate before 1 PM. The road was in reasonably good shape, but they could not drive fast, so it was almost 7 PM by the time they arrived at the compound on the outskirts of Bridgewater where Dr. McMillan treated and housed his patients. The compound consisted of the doctor’s house, a stable, a barn, and a two story building which housed his office and hospital.
The doctor was expecting them, because Dr. Morgan had sent an express message to him before he had joined the others for lunch. Dr. McMillan directed them to carry Wickham to a room in the hospital building which looked to be the operating room. There he had them lay Wickham on a table lined with white sheeting. “Daniel,” he said, “I have to look at the leg. If I think it is critical, we may need to do the amputation immediately. Are you up for it?”
“Certainly, Dr. McMillan. Just give me a chance to wash and change into clean clothes.”
They removed Wickham’s pants, and the doctor removed the dressing. The leg was swollen and black and blue and red. “
I was afraid of this. If we are to save his knee, we need to amputate immediately. Even then, it may have gone too far and I may need to amputate above the knee. Go get ready, Daniel.”
“Colonel, why do not you go over to the house and rest? Mrs. Barnes, my housekeeper is expecting to feed you. She can also show you to your room for the night. I am afraid Daniel is going to have to wait. This will probably take about an hour.”
Col. Fitzwilliam was glad to oblige Dr. McMillan, because he had seen his fill of amputations in the field in France and had no desire to see any more. When he arrived at the house, before he could knock, the door was opened and a middle-aged woman greeted him with, “Good evening, Colonel. I am Mrs. Barnes, the housekeeper. May I assume the others have been detained?”
“Good evening, Mrs. Barnes. I am Col. Fitzwilliam, and yes, the others have been detained. The doctor determined it was necessary to do the amputation immediately, so they will be at least an hour later. I hope serving me will not inconvenience you.”
“Not at all, Colonel. And you will not be dining alone. Dr. McMillan’s mother, Mrs. McMillan, will join you. If you will follow me, I will take you to the dining room.”
When they entered the dining room, Col. Fitzwilliam saw an elderly woman he guessed to be in her late sixties. His immediate reaction was this could be a long dinner. After introductions were made, she started asking him questions about where he had served and talked about the time her son was a ship’s surgeon, and he found her to be very interesting, articulate, and well informed about the current campaign against Napoleon. When the others joined them over an hour later, he discovered the time had seemed to go very quickly and he almost regretted the interruption of their conversation.
Dr. McMillan walked over to his mother and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and said, “Hello, mother. I hope you have been keeping our guest well entertained.” Turning to Col. Fitzwilliam, he said, “My mother is very curious and you must be careful, or she will know more about you by the time the night is over than your siblings do. She also probably knows more about Bridgewater than any other person in town, so if you need to know something, just ask her.”