Chapter 20
Twenty
RIDING LESSONS
Elizabeth was mortified. Neddy had behaved even more wildly than she had anticipated; she had been unable to moderate his worst behaviours. She felt an utter failure, as if she were—if not the cause of Neddy’s problems—at least not helping them, or perhaps even worsening them.
Had she not known that giving him his coveted ride would cause trouble when it was finished? What did you think would happen, Elizabeth?
No, she had known the risks. She had wanted the treat for him, and time with Mr Darcy for herself, enough to set aside good judgment and allow it, regardless of the consequences.
All she had shown Mr Darcy was her own incompetence and inability to deal with her brother. Why would he want such a woman as the mother of his own children?
I need not worry over giving him ‘clues’ to my own feelings. After this wretched performance, he will never come again.
“What attempts have been made to assist him in learning speech?”
It startled her that he would even ask; she did not detect criticism in his tone, but it must be there.
“I have tried everything I can think to do. Gestures, speaking clearly and with great emphasis, showing him objects with constant repetition.” She hesitated, until the words came tumbling out, a confession he could not want to hear.
“He is superb physically, in every way a robust, healthy child, and big for his age. It is all I can do to contain him as it is. In another few years, I might not be equal to it. If I cannot care for him myself, and since Mr Philips will not provide help unless I return to Longbourn, what is to become of him? He will be locked in Longbourn’s attics before I know it.
I fear he truly will become feral if he is denied the outdoors, which he loves, if he is beaten and trapped and treated as an animal. ”
His face was a study in impassiveness. “Your mother will not stand for him?”
“She is too apt to be influenced by her brother-in-law’s opinions. Her father trusted him, and her tendency is to obey him, regardless of even her own sense. Also…she hates me. I am the least likely person she would listen to.”
Mr Darcy frowned. “How could she hate you?”
“Perhaps hatred is too strong a word. I lived through the fever that killed her favourite daughter. I survived by bringing Neddy out to Fox Hollow and quarantining us out here. She wishes with all her heart that I had brought my twelve-year-old sister, Lydia, with us as well. But I did not heal Neddy—he was never ill. I only kept him away from infection. Lydia was already sick. I could not bring her. Or Kitty. How I wish I could have.” More stupid tears escaped, and the guilt she felt escaped with them.
To live, when beloved sisters and a father had not, was a scar upon her soul; she did not need her mother’s reminders to feel it.
Feeling wretched, she wished that he would go, leaving her alone to her misery.
Darcy had been about to explain to Elizabeth that she could not possibly continue to try raising Edward by herself with her useless companion.
Of course she has already realised it.
Edward’s behaviour was unacceptable; he could not be permitted to continue attacking wildly, whenever he was upset. He must learn; nevertheless, he appeared to be incapable of doing so.
That was not quite true, though, was it? He had easily learnt the word for ‘deer’ because deer fascinated him, had he not? If he was interested enough, he did not hesitate to add to his vocabulary.
Darcy knew it had been a bad idea to follow them inside the home. It was hardly his fault that the child misbehaved, and it was none of his business what she did about it. It is a sign that I should leave, and leave quickly.
But he suddenly remembered Georgiana’s fits of temper at the age of six years, in that dark time after their mother died.
He remembered, after her piercing screams had brought him upstairs, her nurse throwing up her hands in frustration and worry.
He remembered how she had fought his hold at first, only calming when he held her so tightly that she could not fight any longer.
Georgiana had possessed difficulties in learning to read, and, much later, another of her nurses had devised a system of rewards for her efforts, motivating her to keep trying.
The reward she had most often wished for was his own attention.
Of course, Georgiana had never had any difficulties in speech.
She had never been violent in her behaviour.
Neither had anyone ever laid a hand upon her in anger.
He would have dismissed, without a reference, any who had.
The very idea of being helpless to prevent my sister from being abused is a terrible one.
Even so, Elizabeth has been required to lose the safety of Longbourn and move to this draughty stone building to prevent anything happening to Edward.
Was there a means of capturing the child’s interest, of holding it long enough to stretch that window of fascination to include objects other than animals?
Edward stood from his bricks, ran to his sister, and softly touched her face. “Hurt,” he said.
Did he see her crying? Was the child sorry? Was he even aware that he had done something wrong? Did he know his own name?
This is not my problem. He is not my problem. Her troubles should not concern me. I ought to apologise for having brought Mabel to disturb her peace and upset Edward, and take my leave. I need to ensure she knows I am never returning.
Her distress was obvious; plainly, she was holding her life together by the thinnest of threads. The urge to gather her into his arms, to comfort…to do much, much more than that was nearly overwhelming.
Was there a reward that would motivate Edward’s best efforts to try to improve, to learn?
Darcy could think of one.
“I will teach him to ride,” he said.