His blood cooled to a canter when Netherfield Park came into view and to a walk by the time they reached Bingley’s gravel drive.
“You are decided to end all association with Lady Catherine?” Richard asked. He was perceptive.
“Had she attacked me, I would bear it, but she aims her strikes at Elizabeth. If I am unwilling to put my betrothed’s protection before the wishes of my family, then I do not deserve her love and my vows would be reduced to a lie.”
Richard nodded, dismounting and tossing his reins to the stable boy, his steps slowing as they neared the front steps. “You said in your message that she does not remember you.” He stopped, his hand gripping Darcy’s. “I hate to ask, but how can you be certain she loves you if she cannot even remember you?”
Because I love her enough for both of us. Because if she does not, I would feel her loss like a death. Because I refuse to give up on her while there is yet hope. And I will always hope for Elizabeth.Darcy continued up the stairs, the words too painful, his throat too tight to speak them aloud.
Bingley strode out to them, his arms wide. “Colonel! I am delighted to see you!”
They clapped each other on the back, their greeting dampened by the gravity Darcy could not shake. He strode toward the stairs, intent on his mission to write to his man of business regarding the termination of the entail.
“Darcy, a moment, please,” Bingley called after him.
The colonel cautioned, “Best allow him to cool down. He came this close to bashing a brethren.”
Bingley coughed and convulsed, waving his hand at them while he recovered from his shock. “All the same, you will want to see what was delivered while you were away. Sent from Dr. Chambers.”
That caught Darcy’s immediate attention.
“I had the porters set it in the front parlor,” Bingley added, stepping into the room and handing the letter laying on top of the large, wooden crate to Darcy.
Darcy tore the paper in his haste to break the seal. Inside was a drawing of the contents of the crate, along with instructions regarding its use. His doctor’s handwriting filled both sides of the folded paper, and tucked inside was another letter from a Mr. Giovanni Aldini, who claimed to be the inventor of the device.
He read the instructions while Bingley rang for a servant and Richard impatiently pried off the lid. Shoving the packing aside, littering straw over the Turkish rug, Richard and Bingley stood over the crate, jaws open and speechless.
Having seen the illustrations and read the meticulous instructions, Darcy thought he was prepared to see the mechanism.
He was wrong.
A thick leather strap held with a silver buckle protruded with wires like the legs of a squid he had seen as a boy at an exhibition. The strange sea creature had given him nightmares for months. This machine,which was connected to a coiled rod, was rigged to send electrical charges into the brain. Transcranial electrical stimulation.
Wasstimulationa kinder word forshock? The rough leather straps, crude wires, and bulky, rigid rods belonged inside Bedlam, not Bingley’s cheerful cream and yellow front parlor.
“This produces the ‘spark of life?’” Darcy asked incredulously.
Richard swallowed hard. “What do we know of this thing? Of its … creator?”
Bingley mumbled. “Blast if I know, but I have seen this before.”
Darcy shuffled through the papers. “Giovanni Aldini is the creator. An Italian physician and physicist, former professor of physics at Bologna, and currently residing in London … with strong ties to the Royal College,” Darcy answered, repeating the first paragraph of Mr. Aldini’s letter wherein he had established his credentials and handing the bulk of the papers to Richard for further examination.
“I remember!” Bingley exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “His uncle was the one who did all of those experiments on dead frogs. I never saw it myself; it was before my time, you know, but my uncles took an interest in his machinery.” More finger snapping. “Galvanizing … Galvinate … Galvani! Galvani was the uncle’s name.”
Richard rifled through the papers, reading aloud, “Dr. Luigi Galvani, Italian physician, physicist, biologist, philosopher, and member of the Academy of Sciences. Aldini’s uncle.”
“Ha! And sworn enemy of Volta,” proclaimed Bingley, waving a finger in the air and very clearly enjoying his moment of superior knowledge.
Darcy’s brow furrowed. Volta. He knew that name. “The inventor of the battery — Alessandro Volta?”
“One and the same.” Bingley rocked back on his heels and up to his toes.
Richard raised his eyebrows. “You are quite the expert. What else can you tell us about this Aldini and his confounded contraption?”
Twirling to the door, leaning out and looking both ways, Bingley quietly closed the barrier behind him. “Just in case,” he whispered.
Darcy and Richard exchanged a worried look.
