Chapter 25 #2
He rubbed his hands together. “I would be delighted. Now, if you please, I should like to converse with you for a while in a setting where you are most comfortable.”
Darcy appreciated his haste.
Elizabeth said, “If my father does not mind us disturbing his bee skep drawings and research, I can think of no better place than his study. I will ask Mrs. Hill to bring in a tray. You must be hungry.”
“To the contrary, Lizzy. I stopped at the inn to refresh myself before continuing here. I did not wish to waste any time once arriving. I will, however, accept a strong cup of coffee.”
Mr. Bennet led the way to his study, closing the door behind them.
Dr. Sculthorpe’s questions were conversational.
He asked Elizabeth about her sisters, Jane’s recent marriage, of the books she had read and her favorite passages, her opinion of her neighbors …
which led to an entertaining account of Mr. Collins and her shock at learning that her best friend had agreed to marry him.
She poured coffee while the doctor continued his inquiries, his ease belying the intensity with which he took note of every comment and reaction.
Elizabeth answered with her usual wit and charm. One would never suspect she suffered from amnesia. Darcy, too, began to doubt.
Until the doctor asked about him.
She looked down at her hands, her humor gone and her wit failing to snap a clever retort.
“I see,” said the doctor. Looking at Darcy, Lizzy, and Mr. Bennet individually, making certain he had their full attention, he continued, “You must understand that the mind is such a brilliantly engineered mystery, it might take some time to uncover the pieces lost.”
Elizabeth’s eyes teared. Her voice sounded strangled. “How is it possible for me to forget my betrothed?”
Dr. Sculthorpe nodded his head gravely. “I have personally witnessed cases where certain events or periods of time are forgotten. These cases are rare, but they do exist. Remember the mother I mentioned earlier who forgot her own children?”
“Do they ever recall their memories?” she asked.
“Some do. Some do not. I will not give you false hope. Our limited understanding of the mind limits your options for treatment. However, I will share an observation. Those who have recovered were the ones who carried on with their lives.”
“What about insanity?” she pressed.
“A threat heartless doctors use to scare patients into complying with their dubious treatments and harmful methods. Or of the ignorant who place their confidence in them.
“The brain is a difficult field to study.
It requires volunteers on whom to perform their experiments, and how better to accomplish their need than to encourage patients to offer themselves willingly?
They surely would not do so otherwise! Nobody in their right mind would.
So many minds ruined. It makes me ill to contemplate.
“These scrupulous doctors would love nothing more than to lock you up at Bedlam. You are a tempting subject, Lizzy. A sound mind such as yours would allow for experiments that have been out of their reach.” He shook his head, ridding himself of his frown. “But I digress. I apologize.”
Mr. Bennet said, “It must be a subject dear to you to speak with such passion. Much like my bees are to me.”
Dr. Sculthorpe chuckled, his humor restored. “Then you understand. I thank you, Bennet. You always were one to enjoy deeper conversations and lively debates.”
Redirecting the conversation before it settled on Mr. Bennet’s beloved insects, Darcy asked, “What do you suggest to help Elizabeth?”
Looking between them, the doctor answered, “Time is a great healer. Lizzy only requires more of it.”
“Is there anything I might do to help things along?”
The doctor rubbed his chin. “Now that you mention it, there is. I suggest you spend as much time as possible with each other. Emotional attachments are remembered first, then come habits, then come the specific memories of events and people. Allow Lizzy plenty of opportunity to remember, but above all, be patient.”
Elizabeth stifled a laugh. “Patient? You do not know what you ask of me.”
Darcy felt the same.
Mr. Bennet sighed. “There, you see? Not all is lost. We have merely been looking at this from the wrong perspective. You cannot remember the past. What of it? Mr. Darcy is here and still very much in love with you. And consider the depth of your concern, my dear. You know he is important to you, otherwise you would not trouble yourself to remember him.”
Kind words, but Darcy craved hearing the words she had said when she had accepted his proposal. Those three words on which he had gladly cast his fate.
The doctor rubbed his hands together. “A love match! How delightful! I have never been so fortunate to fall in love more than once. No woman of my acquaintance could surpass my craving for knowledge. However, you are in the unique position of falling in love twice — with the same man!”
Darcy felt as though he had been given a gift. A new purpose. From this moment on, he would no longer fret over the forgotten past. A far more important task awaited. He had a lady to woo.