“Yes, Madam.” Lansing bowed as he left.
A footman and the lady’s coachman carried the man’s body between them, supporting his long limbs under his knees and shoulders. It took them several attempts to wrestle Darcy’s body onto the floor of the Donnelly coach, where he lay like a freshly caught fish. Before they wrapped his body in the blanket spread on the floor of the coach, Miss Donnelly ascertained the injured man to be a man of consequence, but dried blood and dirt covered his face, obscuring his identity.
“We return to the estate, Walton,” she told the coachman. “We will get the gentleman a proper doctor; the local villages have no one to attend him.”
“Yes, Madam.” The coachman replaced his gloves. “The new doctor arrived two weeks ago; I am sure he will be pleased to be of service to you.”
“Remind Mr. Lansing to speak to the doctor before he enters Darling Hall,” she instructed the coachman.
“I will do so, Madam. We will begin immediately.” The coachman closed the door. Once they loaded the gentleman’s luggage onto her coach, Miss Donnelly covered her mouth with the handkerchief to block the man’s repugnant smell and pulled her feet closer to her body; then she rapped on the roof of the coach to start for home.
The movement of the coach roused the man somewhat. “Elizabeth,” he moaned from his parched lips. For a moment, Miss Donnelly thought the stranger called her name, but he did not open his eyes nor did he move on his own. Instead, the man’s body rocked back and forth with the movement of the carriage. It took Miss Donnelly nearly an hour and a half to reach her estate. The journey with the invasion of her private space by the man’s body seemed interminable for the lady. She fought back the unladylike involuntary spasms her stomach demanded; she shielded her eyes from the sight of his badly beaten body, and she silenced her ears to his moans of pain. As much as possible, Miss Donnelly treated the man as if he did not exist.
Reaching Brigg, the Donnelly coach turned for Darling Hall, the family estate. Since the demise of her parents, the estate belonged to Elizabeth Donnelly. No male cousins existed for several generations, and Miss Donnelly’s parents had the foresight to provide her with an additional legal binding—a sort of codicil.The estate belonged to her until the time of her death. However, if Miss Donnelly chose to marry before her eight and twenty birthday, she would inherit an additional fifty thousand pounds. Of course, the second option would be society’s preferable choice, as well as hers. Although not grand in scale, the estate could provide an adequate living if handled properly. Unfortunately, of late, it experienced several monetary losses, and Miss Donnelly secretly sold off artwork, furnishings, and tapestries to pay the taxes and to meet her extravagant expenses.
In appearance, Miss Donnelly’s beauty seemed an asset in attracting men, and the estate served as a second means of securing an appropriate mate.The woman possessed excellent manners and correct opinions; yet, she did not stir interest with social circles and the ton. She had peculiar habits, which many men could not tolerate even in a woman with wealth and beauty as her “selling” points.
Arriving finally at Darling Hall, the footman and coachman unloaded Darcy’s body. “Mr. Lansing, place the gentleman in the blue suite and have Mr. Logan fetch the new physician.Tell the stable staff to clean the coach thoroughly. If necessary, remove and replace the upholstery within the coach. The fulsome smell of the gentleman’s body must be obliterated; I will not tolerate the man’s presence and his blood and his body fluids soiling my coach. I want all his clothing washed properly; if the items are stained beyond repair, burn them. Once the physician tends to him, please have the gentleman cleaned properly. Of course, you know what to do with his bedclothes.”
“Yes, Madam,” the steward bowed.
“Although the man is injured, I will not tolerate his bringing his dirt into my house,” she demanded.“Tell Julian to clean these steps once again.”
“I will speak to him, Madam.”
“Finally, tell Mildred I wish a bath immediately.”
The man smirked when his mistress looked the other way. “I am sure she prepares one as we speak.”
Irritated, she said,“You are dismissed, Mr. Lansing.”
“Yes, Madam.”The steward made his final bow.
Miss Donnelly entered the drawing room of Darling Hall. Before she took a seat, the lady walked about the room, touching the various items, inspecting them and looking carefully at her glove after each touch. When she came to the figurines along the mantelpiece, Miss Donnelly frowned and reached for the bell cord. “Did you ring?” The housemaid curtsied when she entered the room.
Miss Donnelly did not answer; she simply stood with her gloved index finger extended. “I will address it immediately, Miss Donnelly, and I will speak to the new maid regarding her duties,” the servant stammered.
“Do so or both of you will be seeking new positions,” the mistress threatened.
The older woman dropped her eyes. “Yes, Madam.”
“I expect this to be cleaned thoroughly by the time I return,” the lady demanded before exiting to her chambers.
Nearly three hours later, the steward found Miss Donnelly at her embroidery in the newly cleaned drawing room. “Miss Donnelly.” He tapped lightly at the door before entering.
“Yes, Mr. Lansing,” she spoke as the man entered the room. “Has the physician seen the gentleman? What news does he give about the man’s health?”
“The physician came and went, Miss Donnelly.The gentleman, as we suspected, lost a good deal of blood.The doctor says with the blood loss and his head injury, the man is likely to sleep several days. Mr. Addison fears some mental functions may be affected. I placed Conrad in the man’s room to observe his progress and meet his needs.The staff is cleaning the gentleman and his room. Mrs. Lewis cleaned his clothing as you specified.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lansing. I may try to visit the gentleman later.”
“Yes, Miss Donnelly.”
For five days Fitzwilliam Darcy lay on the fine bedclothes of the blue suite at Darling Hall. He had no visitors, including Miss Donnelly, attended only by an old servant named Conrad. The physician called daily; the servants cleaned the room daily; the steward James Lansing reported to his mistress daily.
To say Miss Donnelly did not visit the gentleman would be a fabrication. The first night he lay unconscious on the pillows of the blue suite, Miss Donnelly’s curiosity got the best of her judgment. So, in the middle of the night, she left her bedchamber and stole down the dimly lit hallway to the man’s room. She knew the rest of the household slept, and she would go unnoticed.
Conrad snoozed on the pallet in front of the fireplace. Miss Donnelly knew he would not stir unless she did something foolish. With a gloved hand, she gingerly turned the door’s handle and slipped into where the man slept. All day long she wondered what he looked like. His body she recognized in the coach to be physically pleasing. Could his countenance, once smeared with blood and dirt, prove as attractive?
Taking the candle to light her way, Miss Donnelly tiptoed to where the gentleman lay. It took only seconds for her eyes to adjust to the shadows lying across his face. A slight gasp of excitement slipped from her lips before she allowed herself a smile of recognition. She met him only once in London. She attended a private party at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Albert Hurst, friends of a distant cousin. It was a little over a year ago, shortly after Christmas. They spoke cordially to each other several times during the evening, and she thought the man seemed interested in her; but shortly after their introductions, he withdrew within himself, and the evening ended on a sour note. The man reclining on the pillows in her blue suite was Fitzwilliam Darcy.
“Miss Donnelly, you sent for me, Ma’am?” Mr. Lansing entered the study.
She looked up from the letter to which she attended. Miss Donnelly took the time to blot the ink and seal the letter with wax before she acknowledged the man standing in attendance to her. “Have a seat, Mr. Lansing.” She pointed to a
high-backed chair placed at an angle to the desk.
The man leaned back in the chair, glad to have a moment to rest.“Is there a problem, Miss Donnelly?”
She took a folded piece of paper from the drawer and slid it across the desktop to Lansing.
He leaned forward, removed his gloves, and picked up the page while eyeing the estate’s mistress. Inside the folded paper he found fifty pounds. A knowing smile overtook his face. “Miss Donnelly, how generous of you.”
“It is my way of thanking you for helping me save my cousin Frederick’s life.” The lady nodded, knowing he would understand the subtext of this conversation.
“Your cousin Frederick.” He repeated the words as if committing them to memory.
“Yes, my cousin Frederick—the one we found on the road and brought back to Darling Hall so he and I might marry.” The corners of her mouth turned upward.
Lansing’s eyes sparkled with mischief.“The cousin to marry so you inherit the additional fifty thousand pounds left in your parents’ will—that cousin.”
Her voice took on a conspiratorial tone. “As my steward, you are well aware of my parents’ wishes. I will be eight and twenty in four months; should I not consider the offer of my cousin’s hand?”
“I agree; marriage to your cousin would seem a viable solution to your problem. Should I review the papers we found in your cousin’s possession in the coach?” Lansing picked up on her tone.
“I believe most of my cousin’s papers were lost or burned in the attack.”
Lansing wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and Miss Donnelly snarled her nose in disgust. “I apologize, Miss Donnelly,” he said as he slid on his gloves once again.
She fanned her face as if the saliva he left on the back of his hand spread danger.
Trying to divert her quirky ablutions, he continued,“Again, Miss Donnelly, you are very generous.Why so much?”
“I assumed you might need to remind key staff members my cousin Frederick resided with us for three weeks. He went to Hull on business and to obtain a license for our marriage. He was attacked upon his return. Do you remember all those details?”
Lansing thumbed through the paper and folded it once again, sliding it in his jacket pocket. “I remember it all clearly, Miss Donnelly.” He stood to leave.“I remain your faithful servant.”
The afternoon Darcy finally opened his eyes, no one he recognized seemed to be about.The only person in the room, a servant who identified himself as Conrad, insisted the gentleman not move or leave the bed until someone could fetch the physician.
“Sir, my name is Mr. Addison. I attend you.”
Darcy pushed himself up in the bed. “Mr. Addison, could you tell me where I am and why I am here?”
“You were robbed from what I understand, Sir.” The doctor examined Darcy’s wounds. “You are at Darling Hall near Brigg. Miss Donnelly brought you here.”
“Miss Donnelly?”A question seemed appropriate.
“I am new to the area myself, Sir. Miss Donnelly owns this estate,” the doctor added as he finished his examination. “Your wounds heal nicely; you should be able to return home soon, Mr. . . . I am afraid I do not know your name.”
“I am . . . I am . . . I cannot remember my name.What is my name?” Terror spread across Darcy’s face; he looked beseechingly at the man.
“It is all right, Sir,” Mr. Addison tried to allay Darcy’s fears. “This is common after a wound such as yours; a brief memory loss makes sense.You have been here for five days, and you were lying on the road for possibly several days before that time. Your body suffered a great shock. Such an injury would cause some confusion. I am sure Miss Donnelly can answer your questions; she had her men retrieve your belongings. Possibly there is some form of marking among your things.”
He allowed the physician to push him back down on the bed.“When may I see Miss Donnelly?”
“I will tell her steward, and he will address your concerns to Miss Donnelly,” Mr. Addison assured him. “I need for you to take it easy, Sir. It is likely you will experience dizzy spells for a few days. I want Conrad here to bring you some broth and to gradually increase your food intake so you might regain your strength.”
Darcy felt the chaos of the situation.“You will send for Miss Donnelly?”
“I will do so, Sir. I will call upon you again in a few days.” With that, the physician exited the room.
Darcy found himself alone again.Where was he? Who was he? Who was Miss Donnelly? There were too many questions to which he had no answers. He lay back on the bed, trying to forcibly remember some of the details of his life.
He waited for Miss Donnelly to appear, but the lady did not come.“Where is she?” he spoke to no one in particular.
“The mistress does not think it to be proper for her to enter a gentleman’s bedchamber,” Conrad, the servant, informed him as he tended to the serving tray.
“Then send me her steward,” Darcy demanded. “He can relay the information, or give me paper and pen and I will address Miss Donnelly in writing.”
“A lady could not receive a letter from anyone but her husband or her intended,” Conrad reasoned.
Darcy’s frustration showed; he wanted to leave the bed, but every time he tried to stand, he was beset with incoherent dizziness.“Someone help me,” he moaned as he forced himself to sleep.
After breakfast, Darcy and his friend rode to her estate. As usual, tender words of his worth greeted the other gentleman. Darcy, on the other hand, received a cold welcome; yet, he did not care what her mother said or did. His eyes searched Elizabeth’s face, trying to see what she must be thinking about him after being so chastised by his aunt. Before her mother had time to tell Darcy of his aunt’s calling upon the family, his friend said, “It is a beautiful day. May we take a walk and enjoy the weather?”
Soon five set off together; his friend and Elizabeth’s eldest sister lagged behind, allowing the others to outstrip them. Little discourse occurred between the three remaining; her younger sister was in awe of the “haughty Mr. Darcy.” Darcy and Elizabeth each formed a resolution to speak what had not been said before.
When they reached the path leading to a neighboring lodge, her younger sister asked to be excused, and then they two walked on in silence for a few moments. He tried to get the courage to approach her when Elizabeth found her voice, “Sir, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving in to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding yours.”
What was she saying? She did not care if she hurt his feelings? He was devastated; he was too late. His aunt’s rebukes combined with his earlier insecurities showed Elizabeth she wanted nothing of him.
“I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister.”
She did not speak of his aunt’s attack, but she knew about his involvement in her sister’s marriage. Now, as was customary, Elizabeth would be obligated to marry him.
“Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it.Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”
There it was—the dreaded word “gratitude.” He did not want Elizabeth’s gratitude; he wanted her love. What could he say to her now? He never wanted her to know of his part in the wedding. Darcy stopped and turned toward her. Elizabeth stopped, too, and they faced each other for a few infinitely long seconds.Without planning to say so, her words of “gratitude” drove him forward. “I am sorry, exceedingly sorry, you have been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I never wanted you to know; it was not done to make you feel an obligation to repay. I did not think your aunt was so little to be trusted.”
Elizabeth glanced up briefly at him; the tension was so thick. Both knew what needed to be said, but neither could broach the subject. She tried to explain how her youngest sister’s foolishness let the news of his attending his worst enemy’s wedding slip out. Then
she said, “You must not blame my aunt. My youngest sister’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter, and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them. It truly befuddles me why you would put yourself through all that trouble.”
She left him the opening. She could not understand why he troubled himself with the man he hated most in the world. How could he overcome such mortifications? Darcy loved her; that is why. His sister demanded it; that is why. “If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone.That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements, which led me on I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owes me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.”
Silence enveloped them; he wanted her to say something or do something to let him know if he overstepped the limits.Yet, she was never silent, he thought. If he offended her, Elizabeth’s temperament would be to reprimand him. Dare he believe she would willingly listen to him? When he looked closely at her downcast face, he saw her embarrassment but not her disdain. He could contain it no longer, and he added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on the subject forever.”
Now he waited, frozen in time, forgetting even how to breathe; his eyes searched her face, anticipating her answer.An eternity passed as he waited; finally, Elizabeth raised her eyes to his. “Sir,” she said the words slowly as if to convince herself as much as him, “my feelings . . . my feelings are so different from what they were last April. My sentiments have gone through a full array of emotions since the period to which you allude; I willingly receive your present assurances.The fact you still seek my love gives me great pleasure.”
Darcy's Temptation Page 13