“I do not wish to disturb Jane,” he explained further, heightening Darcy’s apprehension.
Rubbing his hands together, Bingley began, “Aldini’s uncle discovered what he called ‘animal electricity.’ He did several experiments where dead frogs appeared to come to life when attached to his machine. As you can imagine, this caused quite a stir and earned him a bevy of critics and enemies.
“Ever the loyal nephew, and having taken an interest in his uncle’s experiments, Aldini moved beyond frogs’ legs to reanimate larger livestock. Given the opportunity to observe the grotesque, peopleflocked to his laboratory to watch. He was all the rage.”
A shiver shook Darcy to his feet. Grotesque, indeed.
“But his story gets better!” Bingley declared.
Richard grimaced, Darcy groaned, and Bingley continued chattering like an excited schoolboy.
“He soon began experimenting on human bodies. He would go to the Piazza Maggiore, wait for the executioner, and cart his beheaded prisoner back to his laboratory. Is it not the stuff of a gothic chapbook?”
Darcy questioned the soundness of his physician for sending this monstrous device.
“Unfortunately for Aldini,” Bingley continued, “his battery depended on body fluids to work, and the cadavers would be bled out by the time he reached his laboratory. He needed a corpse with a head.”
Glancing at the door to make certain it remained closed, Darcy mumbled, “That was how he came to England? The promise of whole cadavers?” He shivered again, his stomach twisting.
“Exactly! Unlike our friends on the continent, who beheaded their criminals, England disposes of their criminals more … civilly. He would hang around”—Bingley chuckled—”Dear me, notthatkind of hang.”
“Of course not,” Richard agreed dryly.
“Hedawdledaround the gallows,” Bingley said, “befriending the executioners so that they would hand over the bodies once their feet stopped twitching.”
Darcy shook his head at Bingley. Seeing howanimated his amiable, sweet-tempered friend became over the macabre forced him to see Bingley in a whole new light.
“What is the matter Darcy?” Richard teased. “Aldini only did what any self-respecting doctor in need of dead patients would do.”
Bingley nodded. “That was how he chanced upon George Foster.” He glanced at the door, dropping his voice. “I saw it myself, though my uncle swore me to secrecy. Said my mother would stab him with all of her sewing needles if I let it slip he had taken me with him.”
Darcy had heard quite enough, but Bingley was on a roll.
“It was mid-January, just before the start of Hilary Term. I remember as clearly as if it were yesterday. The day was cold, but the room was stifling. Word had spread that the executed criminal was to be delivered to the Royal College of Surgeons. Quite a procession followed the porters inside. I had to stand on my toes to see anything. Strangers pressed all around, everyone staring at the body on the table. A few fainted.”
Pulse racing, Darcy hung onto Bingley’s every word. He had read about the spectacle in the papers years ago — Though the details had faded over time, who could completely forget such a sensational story? — but Bingley’s eyewitness account was more enthralling.
“Aldini connected Foster to the machine, and I swear on my life that what I am about to tell you is thehonest truth. Foster’s jaw quivered and his face twisted and contorted. I nearly lost my breakfast when his left eye popped open and he looked straight at me. I swear I saw him take a breath before his hand raised into the air as though he proclaimed victory over death, then did a celebratory jig before the battery died … and he died … again. It was a miracle. That was what the doctors called it, and I believe them.”
“That is quite a story,” Richard said, rubbing his chin. “Chambers says Aldini has used this machine with great success treating melancholia and amnesia. He guarantees it is safer and less painful than other brain stimulation methods.”
Bingley, much more subdued, cleared his throat and rubbed his chin, too. “If the battery could spark a man back to life for a time, it is capable of resurrecting Elizabeth’s memories.”
Darcy clutched his stomach. “I cannot expect Elizabeth to try this.” He peered down at the unwieldy apparatus symbolizing Elizabeth’s most promising treatment. This was the best modern science and medicine could do? He shook his head, voicing his decision before he changed his mind. “I will test it first.”
Richard gaped at him. “You mean to strap that contraption to your head?”
“How can I ask Elizabeth to if I am unwilling to try it first? We have the instructions. It does not appear difficult.” Darcy said, sounding more stoic than he felt.
Bingley took a deep breath. “Allow me, Darcy. I amnot near as clever as you are and will hardly notice if any damage is done if the machine malfunctions.”
“You are a braver man — and a better friend — than, I, Bingley,” mumbled Richard, studying the pages in his beefy hands.
Bingley was a good friend — the best — but Darcy could not accept his gallant offer. Elizabeth would never forgive him if his machine harmed her sister’s new husband, nor would he be able to forgive himself.
No. He was decided. He would be the first patient … or victim.
“Are you well, Darcy?”Richard asked for the twenty-sixth time since setting out from Netherfield.
