Chapter 20
Darcy
The next day, after seeing Cordelia and Elizabeth move together to the usual gathering spot, the blue drawing room—and knowing they were about to hold the planned conversation, assuming that they would be overheard—Darcy led his cousin down to the study.
A week ago, Mr Foster had moved his personal items out of the room so Richard could begin to settle into his new role as landowner.
Years’ worth of estate books were kept in that room, along with all the nonfiction tomes on agriculture, animal husbandry, and the history of Cornwall.
But they had no interest in that, at the moment.
Richard settled himself behind the desk, with Darcy in the chair that the steward or guest would take. “What is on your mind, Darce?” Richard asked.
“Not what—who. And the answer is Anne.”
“Ahhh.”
“Before we knew that Lady Cat was bearing down on all of us here, before we knew anything about sheets in a trunk, we worried that the anger Aunt would feel would erupt into some sort of stupid words and actions. We worried that whatever she said and did might hurt Anne more than us.”
“Yes.”
“So I come to you today to ask if you actually know the answers to things about which we have wondered.” He explained his memory that Anne inherited Rosings, but his uncertainty if there were age and marital restrictions; he asked what Richard knew about Anne’s health and her doctors; he further expressed Elizabeth’s hopes that Richard’s mother was already poised to quash or steer any gossip that might crop up about Anne or about their marriage.
The good news was that Richard could report that his parents had surreptitiously sent high quality physicians to Anne every time her mother launched out of Rosings.
“We have physician reports dating back to when Anne was a child, and therefore that thing when a physician attempts to listen to someone’s heart or lungs by placing his ear on the chest—”
“It is called auscultation.”
“Yes, that. Well, it is more difficult to do now that she is grown—” Richard blushed and staggered out a few words to explain further: “Breasts, modesty.”
Darcy nodded.
“But back when she was a child and weaker than other children, a physician who did that reported that there were more turbulent than usual sounds coming from her heart. It was as if there was some sort of defect. Once that physician reported such, every subsequent physician listened for it and agreed that her heart sounds different from hearts of people who enjoy greater health.”
Darcy frowned. There was much explanatory power to the possibility that there was something intrinsically defective in one of her most important organs.
But if that was true, it was almost certainly impossible to repair.
He said, “I have always said that Anne is not strong, but she has a good heart. But apparently I was wrong—she has a bad heart.”
Richard nodded. “Since I reached my majority, my father allowed me to hear medical reports on Anne. He wished for someone in our generation to understand the steps they had taken to obtain the best care for Anne. The most important person in that care is Mrs Jenkinson. She seems more occupied with trifles than she, in fact, is, but she has been such a devoted care giver that she carries out all manner of secret missions on Anne’s behalf.
Not only that, but she has never allowed even a syllable of loose talk about Anne to cross her lips.
She is most effective with our aunt, because she has cultivated such a frivolous seeming exterior, even Lady Cat could never suppose she was carrying secret letters to the post or procuring novels for Anne. ”
Nodding his head, Darcy considered his own impression of Mrs Jenkinson.
He had assumed she was a bit silly, but several times when he bent to kiss Anne’s cheek, she had whispered in his ear that he should always trust “Mrs J”—and, indeed, he felt strongly that the companion was most kindly and obviously attached to Anne.
“One time,” Darcy said, “I overheard Mrs Jenkinson tell a physician that Anne’s courses had been very irregular and at times almost missing, and that she seemed to suffer from green sickness—therefore, she should not be bled.
” Darcy shook his head, saying, “At the time I felt that her words were a bit ridiculous, but since I am very against blood letting, especially for someone as weak as Anne, I let them stand, When I knocked on the door, I was very satisfied that the physician was making ready to leave. I had no idea that Mrs Jenkinson might have been using a strategy to protect Anne.” At this point he looked up, his eyes meeting Richard’s, his brows signalling a question.
“Yes, we have been pleased with Mrs J. She manages to protect Anne far better than we had imagined she could.”
What he learnt from Richard was both heavy, given that Anne’s congenital health problem had no viable solution, and heartwarming, because her companion seemed to be an invaluable protector and aide.
Richard confirmed that his mother had promised to listen for any gossip about the Darcy wedding and marriage since she always listened carefully for any idle talk about the family.
Unfortunately, Richard did not know anything about Anne’s inheritance, other than the vague idea that she had, in fact, inherited Rosings, and that she herself already had a will.
Wondering if the ladies had already had enough time for their planned conversation, Darcy and Richard decided to stay in the study a bit longer, and they spoke about the ball the night before, the neighbours, and Richard’s plans for horse breeding.
Darcy also penned a note to Uncle Henry and a longer letter to Anne.
To both he explained that Lady Catherine had arrived safely but, as expected, continued to display implacable resistance to the idea of other people being able to make choices without reference to her own plans.
He sent the note and letter by way of a trusted messenger with whom Anne had dealt many times.
When the men finally emerged from the study, they repaired to the blue drawing room, only to find it empty. They walked around, looking for their ladies, and eventually they found Cordelia consulting with the housekeeper about linens. “Where is Elizabeth?” Darcy asked her.
“I believe she went for a walk.”
He nodded, swiftly got his hat and gloves, and headed out to find her.
Half an hour later, he trudged back to the house, frustrated. He had not found his wife.