She hesitated slightly before saying, “He, too, fell ill, I am afraid. Upon arrival here, he went to bed and has seen a doctor.”
“That is distressing to hear. Is he faring any better?”
“Mrs Reynolds says he is much recovered.” And then in a voice of motherly compassion, she asked, “Was it truly terrible for you?”
“Only if you consider a biblical degree of humbling terrible, dearest,” I said with a rueful smile and a glance at her friend. Her face had become so precious to me, but I dragged my eyes away and focused on Georgiana.
“Now, let us see your sketches. Oh? Is that the three of us rustics around a fire in a glade?”
My sister’s drawings were so personal, so deeply touching, I feared I might become misty-eyed, and perhaps noticing my fragility, her friend gently suggested I might need to rest if I intended to come down to dinner. With a kiss to my cheek, Georgiana agreed they should leave, and in an instant I was left in the reverberating emptiness of the library.
The timing of Elizabeth’s arrival into my life was not ideal. There was the foremost impediment of her abrupt departure, and that, coupled with the fact I was no stronger than a new-born kitten, left me no choice but to watch her go. Even if shestayed another week, I would have to be sharp indeed to find the opportunities for chance meetings and snatched conversations required to ascertain if there had been a deeper reason she had prayed for my return. Was it merely to thank me again for coming to her aid months ago? Did she only wish to express to me her enjoyment of my estate and my sister’s friendship? Had her opinion of me truly changed—had it improved sufficiently that she meant by such warmth that she would welcome my addresses? I did not know.
“Is there aught I can bring you, sir? Is it your headache again?”
“What? Oh, I thank you, no, Carsten,” I said, realising I must have let loose a wistful sigh as I dressed for dinner.
“It is not advisable you drink more than half a glass of wine, sir,” he said, helping me on with my coat.
“Yes, Mama. What else?”
“Well, the doctor?—”
“What doctor?” I demanded.
“The one who saw you in Brampton, Mr Darcy.”
“What? Lord, what else went on while I was insensible?”
“Well, he looked at your tongue and prescribed a draught which made you more ill, and I declined to allow you to be bled, for I know if you had been in your right mind, you would not agree to it.”
Carsten knew my poor father had been bled unrelentingly, and I had a poor opinion of the practice. “No. And I would not yet be speaking to you if you had. What else?”
“He said he had heard of cases of a so-called marching fever sweeping through the ranks of the militia last year. Those much depleted do not generally survive, but he was marginally hopeful for you because you have been well fed, sir.”
“Was he suggesting I am fat?”
Carsten smiled at my reflection in the mirror as he meticulously brushed the back of my coat. “I believe he was alluding to the fact you are a wealthy man, Mr Darcy.”
“And how would he know that? I was dressed like a rustic.”
“I sent to Carlisle for him and did not spare any expense to consult him. It is well I sewed so much gold into my waistcoat, for without it, we would not have so hastily brought you home, sir.”
“If you are begging me to congratulate you for such forethought?—”
“I am not, Mr Darcy. I meant only to say it was a relief to have the means to act. As it was, I prayed day and night I did not fall ill myself, for if I had—well, I do not wish to dwell on what might have happened.”
We fell silent for a moment, and then I said, “In that instance, we were beyond merely lucky. And your doctor friend—what had he to say as to why you were spared?”
“He shrugged and said there are some who are, and by the Lord’s providence, I was not touched.”
He was by this time in front of me, adjusting my neckcloth which meant we were speaking face-to-face. In an entirely different tone, I said, “I wish I could convey how grateful I am to you, Robert. If I thought you would accept it, I would grant you any wish in the world that is within my power to give.”
“You know my thoughts on these material subjects, sir.”
“I do, yet if you would like it, I could have a house built for you on the grounds so that you could enjoy some degree of the independence with which you were raised.”
With a gleam of amusement lighting his eye, he said, “A comfortable thought, sir. Might we defer such plans until I am too old to be in service?”
