Chapter 33 Dr. Wynn #2
Georgiana spoke little when Wynn was present. She listened to the discussions and made notes from Camden. When asked what she thought, her answers showed that she had been following every word.
One morning Elizabeth returned to Tam Lin.
“The part I cannot dismiss is the return. He does not escape the Fairy Queen by wandering until he finds his way home. Janet must recover him at a particular place and at a particular time.”
Darcy set down his pen. “The appointed time may matter as much as the place.”
“That is what troubles me.”
“Because of December twenty-first.”
“Yes.”
Dr. Wynn looked up from the Archaeologia. “Explain.”
Elizabeth spoke of the fairy stories.
“Three stories, different in almost every respect, but each connects passage into another realm with a particular place.”
“And Tam Lin adds the appointed time,” Darcy said.
“Yes.”
Wynn considered the books spread across the table.
“Then I begin to understand why the four of us spend our mornings with these dusty old gentlemen.”
Elizabeth laughed.
“Have we converted you, sir?”
“To antiquarianism? Certainly not.”
Wynn returned to his book. “But I have spent too many years listening to people insist that something impossible happened to them to dismiss a story merely because I cannot explain it.”
Elizabeth looked at him.
“What sort of impossible things, sir?”
“Most proved quite ordinary once the facts were known.”
“Most?”
He glanced at her over the book.
“Yes.”
She waited, but he offered nothing more.
* * *
Two mornings later, Dr. Wynn and the Radcliffs entered the room before the Darcys arrived and found Elizabeth alone with Brand.
Mrs. Radcliff approached Elizabeth. “My dear girl, Mr. Radcliff and I are to join the other members of the committee for the poor at the parsonage this morning. I am afraid you will have only my father and the Darcys for company.”
“It is no burden, Mrs. Radcliff. I very much enjoy studying with Dr. Wynn.”
“I thought you would not mind, my dear. We will be off, then.”
The Radcliffs departed, and Dr. Wynn settled into his usual chair.
“I have remembered a story about Arbor Low, though it is not much.”
“I should like to hear it, sir.”
“Years ago, I had a patient whose mother frightened her children with stories about the stones. She warned them never to go near Arbor Low on the eve of the winter solstice because the fairies might carry them away.”
Elizabeth pushed Brand aside. “Do you remember the family?”
“The woman was Mrs. Turner. She lived in this part of Derbyshire all her life and died more than twenty years ago. One of her daughters may still be living near Bakewell.”
Elizabeth opened her notebook. “Do you remember her name?”
“I remember what it was before she married. Give me another day, and I may remember the rest.”
Elizabeth wrote Mrs. Turner’s name beneath the disappearance dates. The story was not evidence of another disappearance, but it gave her something almost as valuable: a local tradition connecting Arbor Low with the winter solstice and a woman who might know where it had begun.
The sound of horses came from outside, and Elizabeth looked toward the window before she could stop herself.
Dr. Wynn noticed but said nothing.
Darcy and Georgiana entered several minutes later, and the morning’s work began.
* * *
Near noon, Georgiana stopped reading and rested her hand upon the open page of Camden, but she was no longer looking at it.
“Georgiana?”
The girl turned to her, but did not speak. She looked ill.
“Would you like something to eat?”
Georgiana shook her head.
The movement appeared to make matters worse. She closed her eyes.
Darcy was out of his chair before Elizabeth could rise.
“Georgie?”
The girl did not speak, but remained still with her eyes closed.
Dr. Wynn had already set aside his book and watched while Elizabeth poured water and brought it to her.
Georgiana took a small sip.
“Thank you, Lizzy.”
“Would bread help?”
“I do not think I could eat it.”
Her face had gone pale.
Elizabeth brought the wooden waste box from beneath the writing table and said, “Come upstairs with me.”
Georgiana stood and followed Elizabeth to the servants’ stair.
They had nearly reached Elizabeth's room when Georgiana stopped.
Elizabeth put an arm around her and hurried her through the door. She had only just offered the waste box before Georgiana was sick.
When it was over, Elizabeth helped her wash her face and settled her upon the bed.
“I am sorry,” Georgiana said. “I have become tiresome. I keep interrupting everyone’s plans.”
“You have done nothing of the kind. You became ill. That is not a breach of manners.”
Georgiana closed her eyes.
Elizabeth sat beside her. “Rest a while. I will return in half an hour to see how you go on.”
“Thank you.”
When Georgiana was settled, Elizabeth cleaned up after her, then returned to the drawing room, where Mr. Darcy and Dr. Wynn were conversing in low tones.
Mr. Darcy rose. “Is Georgiana better?”
“She was sick again, but she is resting.”
His expression tightened. “I shall go to her.”
“Sir, I expect she is sleeping. I will check on her in half an hour.”
He inclined his head. “Yes, of course. She should rest.”
* * *
They returned to their studies, though Elizabeth suspected none of them gave the books their full attention.
After a time, Mr. Darcy set down his pen.
“Miss Elizabeth, would you mind checking on Georgiana? I am worried about her.”
“Of course, sir.”
Elizabeth found Georgiana awake and sitting up in bed. Some color had returned to her face.
“How do you feel?”
“Better.”
“Do you wish to remain here?”
Georgiana shook her head. “I would rather come downstairs.”
Elizabeth waited while she straightened her dress and hair, then accompanied her back to the study.
Mr. Darcy rose when they entered.
“Are you better, Georgie?”
“Yes.”
Dr. Wynn remained beside the table.
“Miss Darcy, I should like to ask you some questions about these spells of sickness.”
Georgiana looked at her brother.
Mr. Darcy said, “Dr. Wynn has my confidence, Georgie. He has been your physician for years.”
“I am not going to examine you,” Dr. Wynn said. “I only want to understand what has been troubling you.”
Georgiana glanced at Elizabeth.
“Would you prefer Miss Elizabeth to remain?”
Georgiana reached for Elizabeth’s hand. “Lizzy, will you stay?”
“Of course.”
Darcy looked at his sister. “I shall be in the next room.”
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”
He pressed her hand before leaving.
Dr. Wynn began by asking when the nausea had started and whether she had suffered from fever or pain. He asked about her appetite and whether eating made the sickness better or worse.
“The smell of eggs and fish makes me nauseous. I am also sick if I have not eaten.”
“Miss Darcy, when did you have your last courses?”
The color left her face as her fingers tightened around Elizabeth’s hand.
“Late July, I think.”