Chapter 30
Doctor Slant knew enough about the events in Pemberley to feel nervous as his carriage slowed to a stop.
Not only was he appalled by the treatment of poor Miss Darcy, he was concerned about how her abuse would have affected her brother.
The doctor had cared for both siblings from their births and knew everything about them.
He had been called the very hour that Miss Darcy was discovered - indeed, had heard her last few whispered words before she passed out.
He had not managed to expel enough of the poison to prevent that, although he did make her vomit enough to save her life.
As for the deep scratches on her body, they would heal in time.
In the long, sleepless hours when he had turned Miss Darcy away from death’s door, he had seen the hope draining from her brother’s face, like colour fading from his very soul.
Darcy was a steadfast, well-respected gentleman.
He had been young when his father died, but his meticulous expectations and strict self-control made the local farmers respect him immensely.
In a night, Doctor Slant watched all of that bleed away.
He could not say anything to stop Darcy from drinking. How could he prevent it? By the time Georgiana was past the worst, her brother was a slave to oblivion.
Miss Darcy’s physical health was treatable; her emotional health was not.
Having little experience of such matters and fearing to make a mistake, Slant had deferred to Doctor Acon, a respected colleague in London, for advice.
Acon had given him a few suggestions, many of which were only used in certain institutions, such as keeping the patient restrained and in darkness, so as not to overtax the senses.
Slant had considered his advice rather dubiously, fearing that the treatment of such poor souls was unnecessarily harsh, especially for a gently raised young lady.
A much kinder approach was devised for Miss Darcy, but then Slant had another problem.
Miss Darcy required constant care, and her routine had to be strictly followed.
He needed to find someone who was willing to live in darkness and silence, nursing a young woman who might never recover.
Doctor Acon had a solution for that, as well. Drawing on his connections, he suggested Miss Crocker as a perfect candidate. She interviewed well, was strong and stubborn, and came with the consultant’s approval.
Look where his approval had brought them!
As he was shown into the house, Slant berated himself once more for all that had occurred.
That, however, was where his melancholy stopped.
Unlike many, he was a man who sought out solutions to his troubles.
‘Wallowing’, as he called it, was a waste of time and energy.
He was furious, of course, but he did not dwell on the cause.
He thought about the future. What could be done for Georgiana after this?
Darcy’s face was thunderous when the doctor walked into his study. Not one to be intimidated, Slant ignored the glare out of habit. He glanced around the room as was amazed to see that the drinks cabinet was empty. The only beverage in the room was a tray with a water jug and some glasses.
“May I?” he asked, nodding at it. Darcy nodded tersely, and Slant took his time filling a glass. “Can I pour one for you, sir?”
“No, thank you.” Darcy finally found his tongue, “Are you likely to prevaricate more, sir?”
“Not at all. It is vital that I attend to your sister’s care as soon as possible. First, though, we must speak. I do not think you should allow me into your home without an explanation, and an apology.”
“I did not even want you to cross the threshold, sir.” the other man growled, “Mrs. Reynolds convinced me otherwise. It is your years of service which I respect sir. As for your judgement…”
“Yes, that is where I must apologise. From the depths of my soul, I apologise for sending that wicked woman into your home.”
In a few more sentences, Slant described his introduction to Miss Crocker, and the false promises of the estimable doctor who had recommended her. For the first time his self-assured approach failed him, and he shook his head.
“Like yourself, sir, I placed great trust in the word of another. I later discovered that Miss Crocker was Acon’s niece. She had not been able to find employment in the city, so he had sent her to me.”
“That is a red flag if ever I heard one!”
“Yes, sir, but by the time I discovered the truth of her past, she had been working at Pemberley for over a month.
Since I heard no complaints about her work, I decided to let the past lie.
It was a grievous error, sir, and I apologise.
I must add that, whenever I visited Miss Darcy, she seemed very well cared for.
Miss Crocker was most attentive to her in my presence. "
“She was the same whenever I was in the room. It was only when she thought herself unobserved that her true nature came out. Thank God that Mrs. Darcy hid under that piano.”
It was such a peculiar thing to say that Slant’s mouth twitched, “Your wife hid under a piano, sir?”
Darcy gave him an aloof look. “I have dealt with Miss Crocker, of course.”
“Yes. So did your servants, I understand. I bound a broken wrist and heard a few ridiculous stories that I knew at once to be false. She slandered you rather ferociously. I am glad that you summoned me, but I would have come uninvited if you had not. There is much to repair. May I attend to your sister now, sir? I do not wish to delay any further, if our business here is done.”
It was a relief for Darcy to know that Slant remained trustworthy. “Of course, sir, with my gratitude. Mrs. Reynolds is with Miss Darcy at the moment. Please ask her to come and speak to me.”
Slant bowed and hurried away. A few minutes later, Mrs. Reynolds knocked politely on the study door. Her first move was also towards the water tray, to straighten the glasses.
“Mrs. Reynolds, I would like you to interview candidates for two new positions. One is for a ladies’ maid for Mrs. Darcy, as we discussed. The other must be for a sensible, trustworthy woman. You must choose her yourself and advertise for any qualities you prefer.”
“Yes, sir. Is she for Miss Darcy?”
“No, Mrs. Reynolds. For yourself. I wish for you to have a maid of your own - an assistant housekeeper, I suppose, but one who serves you rather than the house. You have taken on many duties since I came home, without my asking. You carried them out without any ceremony. You have cared for my wife, and now my sister, with resilient strength and compassion. Do not think I have been blind to your generosity, Mrs. Reynolds. I am extremely grateful. I would like you to be able to continue in your kindness without the weight of other duties on your shoulders. You look tired, and I could not bear it if you became ill.”
Mrs. Reynolds had been gaping wordlessly at him for most of the speech, but at that last comment she finally managed to squawk: “Tired! Mr. Darcy, what a thing to say! I would never…”
“You will also be paid a sizeable bonus and given a cottage on the estate, with a generous annuity to keep you in comfort there for the rest of your life. Is that satisfactory, madam?”
His stern expression allowed no argument. Mrs. Reynolds did not attempt to find one. Sniffling a little (and pretending she had a cold), the housekeeper managed to nod her head.
“Very well.” Darcy said, smiling.
Then he waved his hand, dismissing her as if nothing had happened. Mrs. Reynolds’ tried to leave but her feet would not obey her. They stuck to the floor, and her voice came out in a croak.
“Mr. Darcy…”
Darcy frowned at her, recognising the voice of someone drawing on a large amount of courage. He nodded a little, encouraging her to continue. When she drew a deep breath, he knew it was going to be something serious and braced himself.
“There is another matter, sir. I must speak to you about Mrs. Darcy.”
Darcy’s face took on a haughty, closed-off expression that Mrs. Reynolds knew far too well. Seeing him looking so superior perversely chased all of her nervousness away. Even though she was still reeling from his easy generosity, she wanted to shake the man.
You used to use that look when you got caught stealing biscuits from mama’s kitchen! You were not above a scolding then, and you certainly aren’t too high-and-mighty for one now!
“Is it your place to speak so candidly, madam?” he asked stiffly.
“Yes sir.” her voice was smooth and professional, “I must ask what you intend to do. Mrs. Darcy is very upset, sir.”
“I am well aware of that fact, madam. Since she saw fit to speak to you about it rather than myself, I must conclude that she does not think I can improve matters. Your intervention, Mrs. Reynolds, is as pointless as it is inappropriate.”
“Don’t give me that.” she snapped, making him flinch as he had as a scolded child.
The same memory must have occurred to him.
Darcy still looked petulant but stopped trying to be aloof.
His shoulders stooped wearily and he gestured for the woman to sit down.
Normally, Mrs. Reynolds would have (quite rightly!) refused.
A servant sitting alongside the master of the house like an equal?
Absurd! But, given the circumstances, she relented enough to perch in the furthest-away chair.
“I know that Elizabeth is unhappy.” Darcy said with none of his previous arrogance.
Instead, he looked painfully vulnerable, “I do not know how to change that, Mrs. Reynolds. It is good that she confides in you, and I should not resent it. Perhaps you can speak to her when I cannot, as when she is angry, she does not listen to me. I only ask that if she tells you anything that may help…”
“She is sometimes quick to anger, but she has no idea how to resolve this, now. She said you spoke harshly to her but admits that she was too upset and embarrassed to listen.” Mrs. Reynolds asked, “Can you not simply apologise?”
“I tried to, as soon as I saw that I had caused offence. She thought I said...”
“Oh, I know what she thought! I have heard all about it.”
Darcy winced, “She heard one word, Mrs. Reynolds, and clung to it. I said that I was disgusted by my own behaviour, but she took it personally, as if I had called her disgusting. Why would I say something so cruel? Doesn’t she know that I would never…?”
“No. No, she doesn’t know anything of the sort, sir. She does not know you as I do.”
“I have tried to amend that.”
“Yes, but it takes a lifetime to know a life, sir. And it only takes one fragile moment to make you doubt everything you know.”
The man stood up to pace. It was not a conscious movement, more the deliberate infliction of nervous energy being scuffed into the carpet one step at a time. Mrs. Reynolds watched him for a moment and then spoke more carefully.
“You should know that a few hours before you argued, Mrs. Darcy confided in me. She was worried that she had offended you and feared you would see her as a… as a woman of a certain type, sir. Disgusting was exactly the kind of word she feared, and you chose to say it.”
Darcy groaned and ground the heels of his hands against his temples.
“I must say more, sir.”
“Yes, why stop there?” he smiled humourlessly, “What else did she tell you?”
“Nothing, sir. These are not her words, but my own. You must try to understand how she feels. Mrs. Darcy puts on a brave face, but everything you know and love is new and frightening for her. She has been thrown into a new life, a new home, a new family… and now, a new experience. Not all of those novelties are unpleasant, sir, but Mrs. Darcy has had nothing comforting and familiar to cling to. Until yesterday she spoke of you, sir, as if you were the only anchor she had. Today, I am sorry to say, she could not even say your name.”
“Because I…” Darcy cleared his throat, “Because I lay with her?”
“No, sir. Because afterwards, when she needed you most, you were gone. By the time you came home she was already convinced of your dislike - and yes, sir, you should not have used the word ‘disgusting’. I do not believe either of you felt any real regret until you opened your foolish mouth, sir.”
Darcy clenched his jaw so hard that Mrs. Reynolds could see a tic pulsing in his cheek.
“I told her that… that our time together was not terrible. I made it clear that I felt ashamed for other reasons.”
“Mm. You told a young woman, on the most vulnerable day of her life, that giving herself to you - whether drunk or not, sir, that is what she did - was less important to you than your own pride. You are a fool indeed, sir, if you do not understand why Mrs. Darcy is upset, and why she is reluctant to seek you out.”
“Then what can I do?” he demanded, “Tell me, Mrs. Reynolds. Whenever I think I am doing the right thing, she becomes irrational. I do not understand her, and so I cannot trust my own judgement. What does she need? If I go and speak to her now, and explain my misunderstanding, then surely she would…?”
The woman sighed. “Honestly, sir, I think she needs time alone. The more you press her for forgiveness, the worse she will feel. Do you love her, sir?”
Darcy swallowed hard. “With all of my heart.”
“Then love her, sir. Love her in silence and distance, in gestures and all the small and gentle ways, without any expectations. Show your wife that you love her as much as she loves you.”
“Then will she forgive me?” he asked urgently.
A hopeless expression, childish and afraid, made his eyes wide.
Mrs. Reynolds stood up to rest her hand on his shoulder.
He had been a boy the last time she had done it, and was rather a lot taller now, but it still felt perfectly natural to comfort him.
“Does it matter, sir, if she is happy?”
He breathed in harshly and then slowly, slowly let it out. “No. I suppose it does not. As long as she is happy, I will be content.”
“Good.” the woman said and brushed off her hands as if they had just finished dusting a shelf. “Get to it, then, and don’t make me scold you again, sir.”
“I can take back that cottage, you know.” he retorted.
“You could, but you won’t.” she replied peacefully, and smiled beautifully when she curtseyed, “Good day, sir.”