Chapter 29
U pon arrival, I was spirited up the back stair to the deeply familiar comfort of my own room.
Carsten saw me quickly into bed, then he knelt at the hearth, opened the flue, cleared the coal out of the grate, and built a small fire.
This somewhat confused me because it was not a cold night, and as he placed the fender carefully around the flame he had nurtured and assured himself the rug was not in danger of catching any stray sparks, I murmured my question as to what he was doing.
In answer, he stood and simply said, “I thought you might enjoy the comfort of firelight, Mr Darcy.”
He was—again—deeply correct. I had slept so many nights beside the humble solace of a burning log, that it was an easy thing to lie there watching the hypnotic movement of an open flame and to drift into a deep and restful sleep.
In the morning, I felt slightly more myself, and once dressed in my most luxurious dressing gown and looking slightly less corpse-like, I asked to eat anywhere but on a tray in my bed.
“The library, sir?” Carsten asked.
“Yes, please. Has my sister asked for me?”
“She has only asked after your welfare. I do not believe she wishes to intrude, sir.”
“After I have eaten, might you send her to me? Tell her I am anxious to see her and that I am feeling better.”
So it was that I lay back in my chair staring abstractedly at a wall of books when my sister peeked into the room, and upon the invitation of my smile, she dragged behind her Miss Elizabeth Bennet!
By reflex I moved to stand up, realising instantly to do so quickly would cause me to faint. My lapse in manners, however, went unnoticed.
“I am so happy you are home!” Georgiana cried warmly, pulling her friend into the room. And then, after leaning down to give me a little hug, she looked more closely at me and said a touch mournfully, “Oh, but you do look like you have been miserable.”
“Well, I am better now,” I said, glancing at Elizabeth.
The open question on my face must have been clear, for Georgiana then exclaimed, “But…did you not get my letters? Oh, I suppose you must not have, for I remember they said you were not yet in Carlisle. The case is Miss Elizabeth’s family could not go to the Lakes as planned and decided to visit Lambton where Mrs Gardiner grew up.
When I heard of it and recalled your encouragement to decide some things for myself, I insisted they stay here with me. ”
“I am glad you did so,” I said, before politely greeting her guest.
I was fairly dumbstruck and grateful my sister had a great deal to say to me as I sat stupidly in my chair, wondering if I was deep in another fever dream.
But as Georgiana burbled happily along about having houseguests and several outings that they took with our cousin, I began to comprehend that I was, in fact, lucid.
“But goodness, what a journey you have had,” my sister was saying.
“I followed along on the map and consulted with Fitzwilliam every morning as to where you might be and what you might be seeing. Is Emperor Hadrian’s wall truly as thick as I am tall?
” Before I could answer, she interrupted out of pure excitement to have me home, saying, “And I even did several sketches of little scenes you described in your letters.”
“I would very much like to see them.”
“Would you? Wait here while I fetch them!”
With that, she dashed out of the room leaving Elizabeth and me silently regarding one another. “Might you like to sit down?” I asked quietly. Indeed, I was too overwhelmed to speak in anything other than an intimate murmur.
She was also wreathed in a breathless silence and took a chair close to me. I simply stared at her. I could not disguise the wonder or the undiluted vulnerability I felt in her presence.
“You have been on a grand adventure,” she remarked in a voice rippling with kindness.
“It ended rather ingloriously,” I said, matching the intimacy and frank familiarity of her tone.
“You might have me to blame,” she said with her eyes downcast. Then raising them to meet my gaze, she said, “for I prayed your travels would be interrupted, and you would return home.”
“Did you?” I held out my hand to her, and she shyly took it.
“I wished to thank you in person for the hospitality of your home, before we leave—tomorrow,” she said apologetically, quickly removing her hand when my sister skipped joyfully back into the room.
“Yes, can you believe they are to leave so soon?” Georgiana exclaimed.
“I have begged Mr Gardiner to stay, have I not, Elizabeth? But he cannot linger because of his business, and I should not quibble because, for this same reason, they could not go to the Lakes, and I was lucky enough to have what visit they could extend to me.” The two then exchanged warm looks which suggested they were now very close, and perhaps even lifelong friends.
“In that case,” I said directly to Elizabeth, “I believe I should come down to dinner to greet your family, even if I must override the objections of my principal minder.”
“Mr Carsten?” she asked. Seeing that this familiarity surprised my sister, the lady quickly turned to her to explain. “He rescued my trunk when I was stranded in Kent, you see.”
“He is an incurable manager,” I said lightly, “insufferably so of late. Tell me, Georgie, what of Donaldson? I have not yet had him encroaching upon my liberty this morning.”
She hesitated slightly before saying, “He, too, fell ill, I am afraid. Upon arrival here, he went to bed and has seen a doctor.”
“That is distressing to hear. Is he faring any better?”
“Mrs Reynolds says he is much recovered.” And then in a voice of motherly compassion, she asked, “Was it truly terrible for you?”
“Only if you consider a biblical degree of humbling terrible, dearest,” I said with a rueful smile and a glance at her friend. Her face had become so precious to me, but I dragged my eyes away and focused on Georgiana.
“Now, let us see your sketches. Oh? Is that the three of us rustics around a fire in a glade?”
My sister’s drawings were so personal, so deeply touching, I feared I might become misty-eyed, and perhaps noticing my fragility, her friend gently suggested I might need to rest if I intended to come down to dinner.
With a kiss to my cheek, Georgiana agreed they should leave, and in an instant I was left in the reverberating emptiness of the library.
The timing of Elizabeth’s arrival into my life was not ideal.
There was the foremost impediment of her abrupt departure, and that, coupled with the fact I was no stronger than a new-born kitten, left me no choice but to watch her go.
Even if she stayed another week, I would have to be sharp indeed to find the opportunities for chance meetings and snatched conversations required to ascertain if there had been a deeper reason she had prayed for my return.
Was it merely to thank me again for coming to her aid months ago?
Did she only wish to express to me her enjoyment of my estate and my sister’s friendship?
Had her opinion of me truly changed—had it improved sufficiently that she meant by such warmth that she would welcome my addresses? I did not know.
“Is there aught I can bring you, sir? Is it your headache again?”
“What? Oh, I thank you, no, Carsten,” I said, realising I must have let loose a wistful sigh as I dressed for dinner.
“It is not advisable you drink more than half a glass of wine, sir,” he said, helping me on with my coat.
“Yes, Mama. What else?”
“Well, the doctor?—”
“What doctor?” I demanded.
“The one who saw you in Brampton, Mr Darcy.”
“What? Lord, what else went on while I was insensible?”
“Well, he looked at your tongue and prescribed a draught which made you more ill, and I declined to allow you to be bled, for I know if you had been in your right mind, you would not agree to it.”
Carsten knew my poor father had been bled unrelentingly, and I had a poor opinion of the practice. “No. And I would not yet be speaking to you if you had. What else?”
“He said he had heard of cases of a so-called marching fever sweeping through the ranks of the militia last year. Those much depleted do not generally survive, but he was marginally hopeful for you because you have been well fed, sir.”
“Was he suggesting I am fat?”
Carsten smiled at my reflection in the mirror as he meticulously brushed the back of my coat. “I believe he was alluding to the fact you are a wealthy man, Mr Darcy.”
“And how would he know that? I was dressed like a rustic.”
“I sent to Carlisle for him and did not spare any expense to consult him. It is well I sewed so much gold into my waistcoat, for without it, we would not have so hastily brought you home, sir.”
“If you are begging me to congratulate you for such forethought?—”
“I am not, Mr Darcy. I meant only to say it was a relief to have the means to act. As it was, I prayed day and night I did not fall ill myself, for if I had—well, I do not wish to dwell on what might have happened.”
We fell silent for a moment, and then I said, “In that instance, we were beyond merely lucky. And your doctor friend—what had he to say as to why you were spared?”
“He shrugged and said there are some who are, and by the Lord’s providence, I was not touched.”
He was by this time in front of me, adjusting my neckcloth which meant we were speaking face-to-face.
In an entirely different tone, I said, “I wish I could convey how grateful I am to you, Robert. If I thought you would accept it, I would grant you any wish in the world that is within my power to give.”
“You know my thoughts on these material subjects, sir.”
“I do, yet if you would like it, I could have a house built for you on the grounds so that you could enjoy some degree of the independence with which you were raised.”
With a gleam of amusement lighting his eye, he said, “A comfortable thought, sir. Might we defer such plans until I am too old to be in service?”
“Well, if I marry, you will no longer be welcome to sleep in that dressing room you so often use,” I said bluntly.
“I have a comfortable room here as well, sir.”
“I see you are in no mood to be thanked.”
“Your belief in me is wholly sufficient, Mr Darcy. Might you sit for a while before the dinner gong is sounded?”