Carsten, who was by now a fixture in my study, looked up in mild surprise, but his expression then softened into a faint smile when I said, again to the man in charge of my stables, “Speaking of which, how is Mr Carsten’s mule?”
“That animal, sir? He is very good at turning hay into manure.”
“Good. And is he being aired and pastured as much as any horse? I hope he is not lonely.”
“Lonely? He is a mule, sir!”
“But in the company of so many horses he must feel out of place. What say you, Carsten?”
Having caught my sense of mischief, my valet spoke as gravely as if we were considering the matter of an aging, but beloved, member of my household.
“I have been meaning to mention that Mr Williams has a fine, well-cared for pair of mules, sir. Perhaps Trusty might like to return to farm life.”
“Upon my word, sir,” Keller said, “I wish I were fretted over half as much as that ass.”
“I shall ask my sister to knit you a scarf. Meanwhile, see if Mr Carsten’s mule might board at Williams’s farm, but be clear he must be kindly cared for and gently used.”
“Aye, sir, and are we to pay for his fodder and send your farrier to him as well?”
I glanced at Carsten who, ignoring Keller’s sarcasm, shrugged and said, “Make a gift of him if Mr Williams is agreeable, with the caveat that Mr Darcy may wish to borrow him from time to time.”
Keller then turned a sceptical eye upon me as he replied to Carsten, “I should hope he never entertains such a stupid notion again.”
“Clearly you are fond of me, Keller,” I said amiably, “and if I ever decide to rusticate again, I shall consult you first.”
He grunted but with a begrudging goodwill, for he was proud to enjoy such familiarity with me, and excused himself to see to ‘the ass.’
“I am happy for Trusty to be well settled,” Carsten said with a smile to match my own. “What now, Mr Darcy? Should we walk?”
This cycle of work, exercise, and rest became foundational to my recovery, and my strength slowly returned to me. When at rest, I mused over Fitzwilliam’s plan to be useful to Jane Bennet. I did not foresee him needlessly raising hopes or trifling with the sister of Georgiana’s dearest friend, but it was a touch perilousto pay particular attention to her while she was in a vulnerable state of disappointment.
He should be careful on two counts. Surely, he knew the lady could be wounded by forming a second unpromising attachment to a gentleman who was only being kind. But did he know that he could unthinkingly form an attachment toherfrom only a handful of encounters in the same way I had formed a nonsensical, irrational partiality for her sister?
Not that I would now choose to be sensible, rational, or impartial. Having been so reckless as to give my heart away had grown a humanity within me with which I could not now part.
“Might I bring you anything, Mr Darcy?”
I looked up to see Mr Parker, and then, blinking and looking around to wake up from my spell of rumination, I realised two things: I had been sitting at the breakfast table far longer than usual, and I should not forestall the next step in the execution of my plans any longer.
“I believe I should visit my sister this morning,” I said to no purpose really, and standing from the table at last so the dishes could be cleared, I went upstairs.
“How are you faring this morning? The days are much cooler,” I remarked as I entered Georgiana’s room and sat in my designated chair.
“I confess I enjoy it,” she said, wrapping her fingers around her warm cup of chocolate. In this gesture, she so palpably reminded me of my mother that I sat at a loss for words for a moment, until she roused me from my abstraction by saying, “What should we do today? Might we go to the village? Mrs Reynolds and I have gone through the closets, and I have linens for the poor box.”
I agreed to go and then I said, “Listen, Georgie. There is something you should know. Bingley has invited us toNetherfield Park in October. Would you like to visit your friend?”
“Like it?” she cried. “I cannot think of anything better. I shall write to Elizabeth this instant.”
I paused before speaking much more carefully than I had begun. “But first you should know the reason we are invited. Bingley is to marry a young lady named Cora Johnson.”
“Is he? I may have met her. She is pretty, I think.”
“The case is, we have a bit of a problem to consider. You see, your friend’s elder sister caught Bingley’s eye last year, and he paid her a great deal too much attention. It is possible she does not yet know he is to bring his betrothed to Meryton, and in any event, it might be awkward for the Bennet family.”
“Oh no,” she said mournfully. “She will be so embarrassed. Did Miss Bennet like him?” And then, speaking more to herself than to me, she said, “Elizabeth hinted to me that her sister had some cause for romantic disappointment last year.”
“If she did have feelings for Bingley, she was fairly circumspect about her partiality. Unfortunately, her mother was not, however, and she spoke liberally in the neighbourhood of her expectations for a match.”
