1812 How It All Began- Part 2

by Deborah E Pearson

  The carriage rolled up to Darcy's house in the middle of the afternoon. Georgiana was waiting on the front step to welcome them home. Darcy’s habit of returning home was to open the carriage door and jump out before it had stopped. Today that did not happen. That was the first clue for Georgiana. Fitzwilliam jumped out, instead, and shouted at the servants to help him. Panic coursed through her veins as she rushed to the carriage.

  “What’s wrong with my brother?”

  “Darcy was sick at Rosings. He became worse during the journey,” Fitzwilliam replied. “Go inside and make sure that there is plenty of cold water in Darcy’s room as well as clean towels.”

  Darcy had no strength to stand, nor did he know where he was. The servants rallied and carried Darcy up to his room and his valet assisted him into bed. Panic seemed to diffuse throughout the house. The love that the servants had for their young master, was equal to that of his sister. Each one became distressed to see him so sick.

  Georgiana and Fitzwilliam waited outside his room, until his valet had finished. They then entered and sat next to his bed.

  “Georgie, I do not know much of what has happened,” Fitzwilliam explained. “We arrived at Rosings without incident. During the visit Darcy began behaviour seemed strange. Aunt Catherine's vicar made himself known at Rosings, immediately, when we had arrived. That is when I started to see a difference in his behaviour. At first he was seeking every excuse not to visit the vicarage occupants. Soon I realised that it was one occupant of the parsonage that he was avoiding. If I have not missed my mark, your brother is in love.”

  “Oh, how wonderful. Will I have a sister soon?” Georgiana's enthusiasm seemed to be out of place in the sick room.

  “I do not know Georgie. Darcy has not told me anything. Seeing that Darcy was in love, I sought the young lady out. I often walked with her to get to know the young lady better. I do not think she knows what she feels now. At easter and afterwards, Darcy seemed to encourage our aunt to invite the parson’s family. What prompted the change I am not sure, but the oddest thing was that Darcy did not talk to anyone, much.”

  “Does he usually speak much at Rosings?”

  “No Georgie, he does not. He was more silent than usual this time. Two nights ago, Miss Elizabeth Bennet did not attend my aunt's invitation to tea, due to having a headache. Darcy disappeared as soon as he could get away. I do not know where he went. Nor do I know what happened. He returned to the house four hours later, and he appeared to be sick. He was unwell yesterday but seemed better this morning. I wish I knew what happened when he disappeared two nights ago.” Fitzwilliam’s face took on a thoughtful look.

  “Do you think that she has anything to do with his illness? Do you think she harmed him?” Georgiana’s worry for her brother was increasing.

  “Georgiana, you have been reading too many trashy novels! She is not that kind of young lady!" His suspicions were that Darcy may have proposed. He did not understand why Darcy would keep that a secret. A woman like Miss Elizabeth did not usually refuse a man like Darcy.

  Georgiana and Fitzwilliam sat by Darcy’s bedside watching him. He tossed under the bedclothes. Georgiana's concern about him grew. Eventually, they agreed to call an apothecary.

  After a brief examination of Darcy, the Apothecary diagnosed Darcy with a severe cold. This, he said, was compounded by Darcy's grief of mind. Nobody could understand what grief it was that Darcy was struggling with. If anyone was struggling in the family it was Darcy who seemed to be the strong one, the one that they could rely on to help.

  Days and weeks passed, and Darcy showed no sign of improvement. Georgiana hardly left his side. Colonel Fitzwilliam rarely absent from the house, either. Often, he took a turn to sit with Darcy when Georgiana had to go and practice her harp or the pianoforte. Days turned into weeks. In his delirium, Darcy kept repeating "Elizabeth Bennet", "Mr Bingley" and "Jane Bennet". Further arousing Fitzwilliam and Georgiana's suspicions. They were certain that something had happened between Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy. Yet they still did not know exactly what had happened. Anxiously, they waited for answers.

  Answers that would not come until Darcy's health improved.

  "And which I take notice of here, to put those discontented people in mind of it, who cannot enjoy comfortably what God has given them, because they see and covet something that he has not given them. All our discontents about what we want appeared to me to spring from the want of thankfulness for what we have."

  - Daniel Defoe

  10th April 1812

  Heavenly Father, this pain is unbearable. Please take this away from me, I cannot bear this trial anymore. My heart is broken beyond repair and my I’ve lost my mind. I cannot live this way. Oh God, I hurt in every way I possibly can. The only woman I love or could ever love has rejected my love and the marriage I offered her. I cannot handle the grief in these memories that are coming back. I am so alone. I cannot continue. I cannot live in this, my worst nightmare. Everything and everyone I love has been slowly taken away from me. Take me away from this torturous existence. The physical pain is as bad as the pain my heart. Oh God I cannot fight this. I have nothing left to live for. Please, God allow me to leave this earthly plane and join you in heaven.

  Distress and grief felt like it was ripping through him. Then the world went completely black.

  Darcy was unaware of time passing. The black felt welcoming and peaceful. The pain was still there. Temporarily his fevered brain gave him a break from the overwhelming memories. He knew that the memories would again flood his brain. He feared their return. Nothing seemed to be important anymore, for the time being his world had ended.

  “Fitzwilliam, Fitzwilliam,” a distant female voice called to him. Elizabeth is that you? Have you come to me? Elizabeth? Elizabeth? “Fitzwilliam, please come back to me, brother.” Georgiana? Disappointment crashed through Darcy. Once more the hopelessness of his situation came crashing into his feverish brain. Once more his surroundings faded from him.

  The first of the strange visions hit him.

  Elizabeth… Darcy was back at the Netherfield ball. He was making his way across the room to ask Miss Elizabeth for a dance. The quicker he tried to walk the more the floor seemed to melt. One by one those who were in attendance disappeared through the molten floorboards. Miss Elizabeth moved further and further away, it didn’t matter how much he walked or where he turned. Soon only Miss Elizabeth and Darcy remained. Then it happened. She turned to look accusingly at Darcy. Where those perfect delectable eyes were her eye sockets were empty. The longer she faced Darcy the more of her seemed to disappear.

  “ELIZABETH!” Darcy’s shout rang through Darcy House, shocking every person in the house.

  “Fitzwilliam, it’s alright.” Georgiana ran soft cloths over Darcy’s forehead in the vain hope that it would help to soothe his suffering. He was completely unaware of the concern that he had caused or what was happening around him.

  A brief period of calm followed and then the memories came back. ‘Elizabeth, how I want you. We can be good together. I love you so much.’ This time Darcy was standing with Elizabeth in the fields surrounding Netherfield. They were looking out over the wheat that was ready for harvesting. Elizabeth please don’t do this. Miss Elizabeth didn’t answer him. A torch appeared in her hand. Her reply was in the motion of her hands. Slowly, she touched the wheat with the torch and set fire to the whole field. They were trapped. A sense of unbearable heat overwhelmed Darcy. Everything once more faded to black.

  “Bingley don’t be a fool” Darcy muttered. Darcy was back in the Hursts’ drawing room in Grosvenor Square. The memory of separating Bingley from Jane was back again. The smirks on Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst's faces became more devilish and sadistic. Expressions that were more appropriate to grotesque murder. Darcy wondered if they had ever cared about their brother's welfare. Miss Bingley picks up a knife and stabs her brother in the brother in the heart. “Bingley I was wrong. Miss Bennet does love you. GO TO HE
R”

  Darcy stood at the edge of the abyss. All he heard was screams. “No, I don’t want to go down there. I need to get out of here.” Darcy turned to run, but the more he ran away the opening of the abyss kept following him. Miss Elizabeth stood in front of him. He stopped. Elizabeth please will you marry me? Please… I will be a better man for you. Miss Elizabeth shook her head and the next thing Darcy felt like he was falling. Down. Down. Down.

  There seemed to be no end to his fall and there was nothing to grab.

  The heat once again hit him.

  Darcy turned his head to the side, there stood his father and mother smiling down at him. “Will, your sister needs you. Don’t abandon her, like I did after your mother passed. I know that your heart is aching son. Your time has not come yet. Don’t resist the memories, let them come. We are both happy and we are looking over you”.

  “Let me come with you Father. I can’t live this way. I’ve failed everyone I love, including Georgiana. I’m a disgrace to the Darcy name.”

  “Will, my son.” His mother answered. “It was not you who failed. I warned your father, about George Wickham. We failed son, not you. Pemberley needs your steadiness. You will be a rock for her in the years to come. We cannot take you home. We were only allowed to come and give you a glimpse into your future”.

  “Mother I cannot bear this, please. I just want it to end,” Darcy begged.

  “Fitzwilliam!” His mother snapped. “Enough of this selfishness. Would you allow Pemberley to have an uncertain future because you can’t get what you want? At what point did your desires become paramount? No, Fitzwilliam Darcy, you were not brought up to think only of yourself. You need to think more about others who depend on you for stability. Remember it is you and you alone that can keep Pemberley, and it's surrounds steady.” Darcy didn’t get the chance to argue as his mother placed her hand on his. Soon he was transported to the dining room of Pemberley, where he saw a dinner party taking place. Miss Elizabeth had the bottom of the table and Darcy was at the head. The group seemed to be a happy one. His mother touched his hand again and the scene once more changed.

  Darcy and Miss Elizabeth were walking along a Hertfordshire lane. What was being said Darcy didn’t hear, except for the one line that her feelings were quite the opposite. The scene once again changed. Three young children were frolicking in the garden of Pemberley. Turning around Darcy saw himself and Miss Elizabeth looking at the children indulgently. At that moment his mother brought him back to the room. “That future is waiting for you son, but you need to fight for it.” His mother’s words floated to him as they disappeared.

  The world once again went black. How he would fight for it he did not know.

  24th April 1812

  “Miss Darcy, I have to warn you. The fever has broken, and Mr Darcy seems to be a little more peaceful but until he wakes up we will have no guarantees. Even then we do not know what the prolonged fever has done to his brain. It is a waiting game. It all depends on whether he lives the next twenty-four hours. If he does and continues his steady recovery I have high hopes that everything will be fine. It is in God’s hands now.” The apothecary Mr Biggs stated before he left the room and the house.

  “NO! Fitzwilliam won’t die, will he Richard?” Georgiana screamed. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana had been present. Georgiana had sat by Darcy’s bed every hour of the day and night for the last fortnight. She had only left him for the briefest time possible.

  Fitzwilliam had seen many fevers while out on a campaign in Spain. The words it’s in God’s hands now usually spelt disaster. He had rarely seen a man wake up when the physicians said that. He did not wish to give his young cousin false hope “I don’t know Georgie, but I doubt it. He was strong before, so there’s no reason to think that the worst will happen.”

  “Do you think the Elizabeth he keeps calling for is Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

  “Yes, Georgie, I do.”

  “Should she know how ill Fitzwilliam is? Would she want to know?”

  “Georgie, I,” Colonel Fitzwilliam didn’t know how to answer her. He didn’t exactly know how things were settled between his cousin and Miss Elizabeth. “I don’t know, but I don’t think informing her would be appropriate now. We don’t have any idea about what the situation is with them. We won’t until Darcy wakes up.”

  “What if... What if...." Georgiana was not sure how to say what she wanted to say, but she forced herself "What if... he doesn't wake up? I wish I knew what to do for him.”

  “Right now, we must not think about the consequence if he doesn't wake. All you can is look after yourself and be there for him Georgie, it’s all any of us can do. If he doesn’t improve soon we may need get word to Miss Elizabeth.” She might be the only way to bring him back, but we're not there yet. Colonel Fitzwilliam gave Georgiana a hug and left. His superiors only allowed short periods where he could come to see his cousins.

  “Fitzwilliam, please come back to me.” The distant voice broke into Darcy’s fractured mind. The memories and nightmares were continuing. Darcy found by concentrating on the memory and allowing them to run, they seemed less painful. He had started to remember more and more of the good times he’d had with Jeremy as they studied at Eton. He started to see how little of Jeremy’s death had anything to do with him. The more the memories flooded back, and as the sting eased the more Darcy improved physically.

  “Come on now Darcy, you can’t stay like that forever you know,” the distant male voice irritated Darcy. Yet still Darcy had not the energy or will to answer. Darcy became aware of a pain between his shoulders, and he shifted trying to get comfortable. This was first time that he’d moved of his own volition in almost a month. “Come on Darcy, Georgie’s going crazy waiting for you to snap out of this and get better.” The unknown male voice continued. It seemed vaguely familiar and Darcy searched his brain to try to identify the speaker. Few dared to speak to him like this, but still his brain was too cloudy to identify the speaker. It seemed like they were speaking through cotton wool.

  8th May 1812

  More and more memories had crowded in, but now they were a mixture of the good and the bad. Darcy now reviewed his memories. His mind was clearer and more contemplative now. He recognised the not only the genesis of his crippling shyness, but also his arrogance. Being one of the most eligible members of the Ton had not helped him as nobody had ever called him on his behaviour. Although he couldn’t say that having money had been a curse, he could say that it felt like a trap. A trap he became determined to break. Slowly, he came to recognise that Miss Elizabeth had been right in much of what she had said about his character. It had been painful to hear, but now he slowly formed a plan to attend to those flaws in his personality. Knowledge it was said was power, and Darcy was determined to use that power to improve himself.

  He stirred and slowly his eyes opened. The light in the room almost seemed too much. His eyes hurt but adjusted to the light. He groaned.

  “Ah, Darcy, you’re awake,” Colonel Fitzwilliam stated. “Georgie will be so pleased.”

  “Wait.” Darcy’s voice was rough, and his throat felt sore, “where am I? How much time have I lost?”

  “About a month, and you are in your own bed at Darcy House.” Colonel Fitzwilliam answered.

  “Fitzwilliam, who knows I’ve been unwell?”

  “Georgiana, myself, and my parents, beyond the servants of Darcy House and Pemberley.”

  “Is there any urgent business from Pemberley?”

  “Nobody has contacted me about anything. You need to relax and get-well Darcy.” Colonel Fitzwilliam would look after Pemberley, if Darcy could not.

  Darcy closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. The nightmares would never leave, but they were lessening. They left him drained and weak. He was grateful the physical pain was gone. The emotional pain was also healing slowly.

  His recovery was slow. It wasn’t until the end of May that Darcy once more was able to get out of bed and begin to have a
normal routine again.

  The happiness of life is made of minute fractions - the little, soon forgotten charities of a kiss or a smile, a kind look or heartfelt compliment.

  Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

  5th August 1812

  Towards the end of May, Darcy’s recovery gained momentum, but it was still slow. As he recovered Darcy caught up with the business that came down from Pemberley. The problem of the farm borders would need a categorical solution, soon before it became ugly. This situation was more troublesome than he had admitted. These were the biggest of the Pemberley farms. The families who held them had been Darcy tenants for generations. Should he not solve it soon, discontent could spread throughout all his tenants. Until he recovered and went to Pemberley it would have to wait, but the problem made him nervous. Darcy was writing more and more in his journal. He attempted to make sense of his thoughts and to make plans for the making right his mistakes.

  On the thirty-first day of May Darcy sat out in a chair. For the first time told Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana the full story. He began at the Meryton ball up until he proposed to Elizabeth. He included that fateful day when he became so ill. Opening up was painful for Darcy, but he found it helped to gain some clarity of thought. He kept back his feelings of blame and tried to keep to the facts.

  To call his sister and Fitzwilliam surprised would be an understatement. Neither could think of a time when Darcy had opened up, so completely, to them before. It was so unusual for Darcy to be so open and forthcoming with anyone. At first, neither of them knew how to answer him, but they sat and listened. Darcy was not looking for answers or opinions. He was grateful for their silence. Soon he became lost in his own thoughts again. At this point Fitzwilliam and Georgiana thought it advisable to leave him to think.