Darcy's Hope at Donwell Abbey, a WW1 Pride & Prejudice Companion

by Ginger Monette

  But Elizabeth had changed her mind.

  Would Sarah?

  

  The next evening—Darcy House, London

  The floorboards squeaked beneath Darcy’s feet as he crossed his study at Darcy House. He paused and smiled, intentionally flexing the creaking plank with the toe of his boot. Never again would he take his hearing for granted.

  Resuming his steps, he extended his hand in expectation of the table between the room’s two large windows. When his fingertips met the polished wood, he crawled them to the decanter and poured himself a drink. Home. Darcy House wasn’t Pemberley, but it was familiar. And comfortable. It was his domain.

  Swirling the brandy in the snifter, he raised it to his nose and inhaled. Every nuance of the fruity fragrance filled his nostrils. Surely its scent hadn’t changed, but after so many weeks of sight and sound deprivation, his olfactory sense had sharpened like a knife blade on a sanding stone.

  He sipped the liquid and sighed. He would never see again. Not the sun reflecting off Pemberley’s lake, or Georgiana, or Juliet.

  Or Elizabeth.

  He closed his eyes and pictured her twinkling green eyes and warm smile. She would have brought vibrance and life to Pemberley and Darcy House.

  He reached into his uniform’s breast pocket, then drew little silver box and lifted the lid. Let me call you sweetheart, I’m in love with you. Let me hear you whisper that you love me too..... The melody flowed over him, bathing him in memories.

  His eyes misted, and he snapped the box shut. He couldn’t allow self-pity or despondency to gain a foothold. He had to focus on his future. And right now that meant looking ahead to his next nine months at St. Dunstan’s. Due to Miss Thomas’ excellent tutelage, the staff there had assured him that if he continued to progress, he could expedite his training and be back at the helm as Pemberley’s master before this time next year.

  He sipped from the snifter. Independence is the key to happiness for the blind. What he’d experienced at St. Dunstan’s today confirmed the truth of their motto. The men there walked about with a confidence and cheerfulness that was inspiring. He’d even found himself chuckling along with their friendly banter over a game of dominoes.

  He crossed to his desk and sank into his chair. If blind men could learn to be poultry farmers and cobblers, surely he, a gentleman, could run his estate. But he would need some sort of assistant.

  He swirled the aromatic liquid in his glass. He’d need someone who appreciated the challenges of being blind and would be meticulous to keep things in their proper place. Someone he trusted—who understood business, that he would feel comfortable spending hours at a time with.

  Like Juliet.

  He tried on the thought. Yes, someone like Juliet.

  Or Elizabeth.

  Blinking away the memories, he forced his thoughts back to Miss Thomas.

  Miss Thomas was a woman. But she’d already been helping him with estate business. And she certainly understood the challenges of being blind. And he rather enjoyed her company. Actually he was fond of her.

  He absently stroked the stones of the garnet bracelet, then huffed. How ridiculous. A nurse, a woman, becoming his business assistant? That was absurd. He’d be the laughing stock of London society.

  Scuffing slippers interrupted his thoughts. “Fitzwilliam, are you still awake?”

  “Ana.” He rose to his feet.

  The light switch clicked, and she padded across the floor. “It’s late. I was worried when you didn’t come upstairs.”

  Darcy held out his hand. “I’ve just been enjoying my study.”

  Georgiana clasped his palm. “It’s good to have you home.”

  “It’s good to be home.” He squeezed her back.

  She lingered beside him before gently pulling her hand away. “Fitzwilliam, may I speak with you about something?”

  “Of course.” He gestured in the direction of the chair in front of his desk, then felt for his own seat and lowered himself.

  “Actually, it’s about...someone. Do you remember Alexander Prescott?”

  “The one who chased you with a frog when you were ten years old?”

  “Yes. I—. He was one of our patients in Lambton. And, well, he and I....”

  Darcy sat back and smiled. “Are you trying to say you’ve developed a fondness for him now that he’s older and wiser? And handsome, perhaps?”

  “Oh, yes! He’s a perfect gentleman, now.”

  “I encountered him a few years ago. He’s a fine man. He would make a good husband.”

  “So you approve then?” Her words came out on a relieved breath.

  “You’re of marriageable age, and I can’t hold on to you forever.”

  “Thank you,” she managed the words on a teary breath but seemed to have something else to say.

  “Is that all?”

  She sniffed. “Well, there is another matter....” She shifted in her chair. “Did you enjoy today at St. Dunstan’s?”

  “I did. I expect I’ll be sore tomorrow from rowing with the other officers.”

  “So you think you’ll get on well there?”

  “Well enough.”

  “And Miss Thomas will be leaving.”

  “That is her wish. I dictated a letter to Scott giving her my highest recommendation.”

  “But she will be gone.”

  Darcy chuckled under his breath. “Yes. What is it you’re getting at?”

  Her hesitancy suspended the moment, and then her words tumbled out. “Fitzwilliam, I know it may be too soon to consider another woman, but Juliet would make a wonderful wife. I know she’s fond of you. I see the way she looks at you. And you’re fond of her, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “She may not be from a prominent family, but you said there were objections to Elizabeth’s family as well. And you are getting older.” Her chair scraped the floor as she rose to her feet. “I just want you to be settled and happy.”

  Her hand landed on his shoulder and he rose, drawing her into his arms. “I know you do.”

  “Then you’ll think about it?”

  “I’ll think about it, but don’t get your hopes up.” He tightened his arms around her. “Why don’t you go back upstairs? I’ll be up shortly.”

  Georgiana’s footsteps echoed across the floor, then suddenly stopped. “Fitzwilliam, are you sure we’ve never met her before?”

  “Miss Thomas? I don’t think so. She’s recently arrived from America. What makes you ask?”

  “There’s something familiar about her. Like I’ve seen her someplace, but I can’t recall where.”

  “Surely she would have said something if we had.”

  “I suppose so. But you will consider what we talked about, won’t you?”

  “Yes, Ana. Goodnight.” He shook his head, then resumed his seat and picked up a sketching pencil, twirling it through his fingers. So Georgiana wanted him to consider Juliet as his wife. Darcy traced his jaw with his thumb and forefinger with his other hand. Considering a woman other than Elizabeth felt like betrayal.

  But if he was going to move past Elizabeth and embrace his future as a blind man, he must force himself to consider other opportunities. And his choice of a wife would be more important than ever. Could he see himself married to Juliet?

  He closed his eyes, struggling to conjure an image of the woman he’d never seen standing by him as his wife, but the only face that came to mind was Elizabeth’s. He forced spectacles over her twinkling green eyes, then released his pent-up breath with a gush of air.

  He couldn’t seem to envision them as two individuals. Both were kind, witty, intelligent, and strong. And both... fit him.

  Yes, Juliet fit him. He sipped his brandy, surprised by his conclusion. If she was his wife, no one need know she assisted him in business as well. But would she be willing to assist him? A wife aiding her husband in business was certainly unconventional. But times were changing. And, undoubtedly, they would continue to
change after the war. Would Juliet even consider the idea? Georgiana said Juliet was fond of him.... He had to admit there had been moments of...interest between them. Did he hold any genuine affection in addition to the attraction? He cracked the door of his heart, allowing himself to weigh his feelings.

  A warm glow seeped out; he slammed the door. He couldn’t cast Elizabeth aside so easily.

  Draining his glass, he rose to his feet and moved towards the stairs. Seven months ago, contemplating marriage to a woman other than Elizabeth would have been unthinkable.

  But unfortunately, a lot had changed in the past seven months.

  ~THIRTY-FIVE~

  The next day

  Elizabeth rounded Duke Street onto Grosvenor Square. Yesterday’s visit to St. Dunstan’s had been bittersweet. She’d enjoyed seeing the nurses, VADs, and a handful of the patients she’d known from last year, but it only drove home the point that Fitzwilliam would soon be a patient there—and blind for life.

  She’d been proud of him as they toured the hostel for blind soldiers. Though generally reserved, he’d engaged with the other officers and even participated in several activities. He’d eaten without incident and moved among the unfamiliar surroundings with ease.

  Her morning in London had been productive as well. She’d bought a new nightgown, a braille book of short stories for Fitzwilliam, and most importantly, she’d reapplied for foreign service and delivered the envelope containing Dr. Scott’s recommendation.

  Nearing Darcy House, Elizabeth shifted her parcels and checked her watch. They had a few hours before their train’s departure back to Donwell, but she’d better hurry or she’d be late for luncheon.

  She skipped up the townhouse steps, and the butler met her at the door.

  Crossing the threshold she handed Hawkins her parcels, then pulled off her gloves. “I haven’t missed luncheon, have I?”

  “No, Madam.” He took her hat. “Miss Darcy asked that luncheon be delayed until Mr. Darcy awakens.” The man’s grim expression suggested a condition more serious than fatigue.

  She met his eyes. “He’s not ill, is he?”

  “I don’t believe so, ma’am. Perhaps his visitors this morning tired him.”

  “Visitors?” She removed her hat.

  “Mr. Bingley and his sister.”

  Elizabeth tensed. If she’d been there, Charles and Caroline would have recognised her! Elizabeth pasted on an unaffected smile. “Not bad news, I hope.”

  “That, I could not say. Miss Darcy’s in the drawing room.”

  “Thank you.”

  Elizabeth’s footsteps echoed through the marble hallway. Had something happened to Jane or the baby? What other news might cast a shadow on the household?

  She climbed the stairs and found Georgiana at the drawing room window staring into the distance.

  “Georgiana?” Elizabeth’s voice broke the silence.

  The girl turned, dejection written on her face.

  “What is it? What’s the matter?” Panic seized her as she crossed the red patterned carpet to Georgiana’s side.

  “Fitzwilliam’s friend Charles Bingley and his sister Caroline called this morning.”

  “They brought bad news?”

  “I’m not sure what to make of it. It’s about Miss Bennet. The woman Fitzwilliam deeply cared for who went missing last autumn. Her sister Jane is married to Charles and—.” Georgiana’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Maybe I shouldn’t....” She looked up. “But you would never hurt Fitzwilliam would you?”

  “Of course not.” Elizabeth placed a hand on the girl’s arm.

  “Then I can trust you not to mention this to anyone?”

  “Certainly.”

  Georgiana leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Jane received news that their youngest sister has married a German officer!”

  Heat flushed over her.

  “Poor Jane is having a baby soon, she’s heartbroken over Elizabeth’s disappearance, and now learns her other sister is a traitor. It’s just dreadful. Fitzwilliam was very upset at the news.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “But that’s not the worst of it. I’m sure you’re familiar with the famous Dr. Cowart?”

  “The one on all the posters?”

  Georgiana nodded. “Fitzwilliam is modest, so you may not know that he and Miss Bennet served with the doctor at a clearing hospital in Belgium. But Dr. Cowart was also a colleague of Charles’ late father. When the doctor was shot in Belgium, he was sent to a hospital in Boulogne to recover. Caroline went to see him, and apparently he voiced suspicions that Elizabeth was a spy!”

  “A spy? Did the doctor have any evidence?” Elizabeth’s stomach lodged in her throat. How many other people had Caroline told?

  “Well it hardly matters if it’s true or not. If word gets out that Elizabeth was even suspected as a spy, her family’s reputation would be ruined. And it was already tainted by the indecorous behaviour of some of her relatives.”

  “I see. So you think your brother is having second thoughts about Elizabeth?”

  Georgiana sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. I just know that Fitzwilliam and Caroline had a terrible argument and that his heart has been broken over Elizabeth. I can’t stand to see him in such pain. And him being blind! Oh, Juliet, I just wish I could do something for him!”

  

  Luncheon at Darcy House was a near-silent affair, the clinks of forks against porcelain the only sounds.

  Elizabeth wiped her mouth and glanced around the table. Georgiana sat like a wilted flower, scared to look up from her plate. Fitzwilliam stared, brooding into the distance, his thoughts clearly not on those at the table.

  Elizabeth cut a bite of ham, evaluating the situation. None of the revelations were new to Fitzwilliam. He already knew Lydia had married a German and that Elizabeth was suspected of being a spy, so it couldn’t be the news itself that was so upsetting. Was the argument with Caroline what had soured him? Or perhaps Caroline had shared Dr. Cowart’s implicating suspicions. Did Fitzwilliam believe she was a spy?

  Elizabeth closed her eyes. Regardless, there was nothing she could do to change his opinion of her. And it had been another close call. Too close. She would count herself fortunate she hadn’t been seen by Caroline. If the Jezebel discovered that Elizabeth was serving as Fitzwilliam’s nurse—. She shook her head. Next time Elizabeth might not escape unscathed.

  She needed that VAD summons, and she needed it soon. To ensure there was no next time!

  

  Lawson steered the car past the entrance to Hartfield, and Elizabeth glanced over at Fitzwilliam and sighed. He’d hardly spoken two words since their departure from London. He merely sat brooding in an icy chill.

  It was such a contrast to yesterday at St. Dunstan’s where the other blind men had him laughing and singing Cowart was no coward and nor will we be. And at dinner last night, he’d been warm and engaging. Their evening with Georgiana couldn’t have been more pleasant. But Fitzwilliam’s radiant optimism of yesterday had been blotted out by the black clouds of Elizabeth’s past.

  Perhaps Spero could raise his spirits. She turned to Fitzwilliam. “Donwell’s just ahead. Shall we stop for Spero before our return?”

  “Beggin’ your pardon,” Lawson spoke over his shoulder, “but Mrs. Knightley asked that Miss Thomas pay a call as soon as the captain is delivered to Donwell. She’ll be expecting her.”

  “Mrs. Knightley asked for me?”

  Fitzwilliam broke in. “Take us to the stables, Lawson, it will only take a moment.”

  Minutes later the car stopped in front of the stable block. Lawson opened their door, and Elizabeth stepped out behind Fitzwilliam.

  In their familiar routine, she offered her arm. He took it, but the hand’s breadth between them felt like a mile.

  A dozen paces from the car, Fitzwilliam slowed his steps. “Why haven’t you told me about the posters and ads?” Accusation laced the words.

  Elizabeth halte
d. “I beg your pardon?”

  “‘Cowart was no Coward.’ You must know of it. Everyone else seems to. Apparently he’s a national hero. Surely you’ve heard of him.”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth, but for once, she could form no reply. In truth, she’d purposely avoided mentioning the slogan out of her own disdain for the man.

  “Here I was telling the men at St. Dunstan’s that my exceptional nurse read me the newspaper every morning, yet I was unaware of something that’s become a national phenomenon. It was embarrassing. It put me in an awkward position.”

  “I’m afraid—” Spero barked, saving her a reply.

  The dog nudged his leg, and he released her arm, then knelt and massaged the dog’s ears. Spero licked his hand. Fitzwilliam expelled a pent up breath and chuckled. “Hello, boy, did you miss me?”

  Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. It was amazing how an animal could warm the human heart with no effort at all.

  With a final pat on Spero’s back, Fitzwilliam rose to his feet and sighed. “Forgive my acerbity, Miss Thomas. It was uncalled for. You’ve been an outstanding nurse, and I’ve been fortunate to have you. I’m afraid some unpleasant news this morning has put me in a rather foul mood.”

  The tension was broken and Elizabeth laughed. “It wasn’t hard to tell.”

  “Was it so obvious?”

  “You’ve hardly spoken two words all day.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed. I suppose while I was deaf I became so accustomed to silence I hadn’t realised that today’s silence was of my own making.”

  “Perhaps I should be insulted that a dog is more successful at summoning words from you than I am.”

  He smiled at her teasing. “Don’t be. But were Spero to be proficient in braille....”

  She joined his rumbling laughter. Goodness, she loved him—brooding man and all.

  Elizabeth bid Fitzwilliam goodbye at Donwell with a teasing promise to beat him at dominoes when she returned.

  On the short drive to Ashworth House, Elizabeth sobered, steeling herself for the forthcoming encounter. She hardly expected this to be a friendly social call. Mrs. Knightley rarely extended her more than the barest of civilities.