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“Darcy may be blind, Father, but he has not lost his faculties. I don’t see that it makes such a difference from your point of view. His man of business is surely currently on top of things and can manage for a bit while Darcy gets his stamina back. I imagine that if Darcy took on a secretary to read and write his letters for him, he should get along very well.”

“Nonsense! How can he do anything? He cannot see and he cannot walk. Lord! He had to be pulled upright just to sit in bed! He don’t need a secretary; he needs a nurse! Has anything been done in that direction?”

“I expect the physician will give an opinion on that point,” replied his son.

The earl only grunted in reply and continued fulminating in silence, seeing the salvation of the Fitzwilliam fortunes slipping from his grasp.

Richard accompanied his father back to his townhouse in silence, guessing the self-centred nature of his father’s thoughts. Feeling ashamed of his heritage, Richard questioned his own actions during the Peninsular War. He had undoubtedly abandoned badly wounded comrades in a similar fashion. Once it became obvious that they would not be returning to the battlefield, his visits to their bedsides had tended to diminish. Perhaps the exigencies of war demanded such callous decisions, but he would be damned if he was going to abandon his cousin. Blood, he reminded himself, is thicker than water.

Richard arrived back at the townhouse to find Georgie calmer and his mother ready to accompany them both back to Darcy House. Due to the snow on the ground, the carriage was used to transport the ladies the short distance.

As expected, Georgiana did not handle the situation well. Escorted into Darcy’s bedchamber by the countess and Richard, Georgie froze near the bed, gazing at her brother’s shaved head and haggard appearance. Finn had propped his master up once more on pillows in preparation for the visit when the countess’s carriage had pulled up outside Darcy House. Darcy recognised the swish of silk that accompanied his sister’s advent and put on a brave face, holding his hand out to encourage her to approach. When she took his hand, Darcy drew his sister towards him in a hug, but this only made the situation worse for Georgie. With eleven years between them, they had not previously been very demonstrative in their affection for each other, although the bond was very strong—after all, they were the sole surviving members of their immediate family, having been alone in the world since their father died suddenly seven years ago when Georgie had only been ten. Silent tears streamed down Georgie’s face.

The awkward moment was broken when Richard announced that he believed the doctor had arrived. Having heard the approach of a carriage, the colonel had gone to the window and thought he recognised the Darcy family physician. Georgiana and the countess retreated downstairs to the saloon to await the outcome of the consultation while Richard stayed behind to lend his cousin support.

Doctor Gordon of Harley Street, who had graduated from Edinburgh, was one of the most eminent physicians of the day, head and shoulders above his compatriots who had been educated at Oxford or Cambridge. The good doctor spent a solid half-hour taking Darcy’s history, shooting questions at both Darcy and his valet. He moved a candle before Darcy’s face and was satisfied to see that Darcy followed it with his eyes, although they were unfocused. He passed a hand in front of the candle and called to Darcy as he moved about the room. He examined Darcy’s skull, pulled at the staples with a pair of pliers and succeeded in removing one of them, but refrained from attempting to extract a second when he felt the detached fragment of bone move. After the bedclothes were drawn back, the doctor examined the stumps of Darcy’s toes on his left foot, gave a satisfied grunt, and then proceeded to ascertain that Darcy had feeling in his legs. With some effort, Darcy was able to wiggle his remaining toes. Dr Gordon asked Darcy to try to push against his hands with his feet, as Dr Freud had asked him to practise with Finn. He then looked at the wheeled chair they had transported from Vienna, several aspects of which seemed to interest him. Finally, Dr Gordon sat down next to Darcy to deliver his opinion, but after frowning several times, he seemed unsure where to start.

Sensing the doctor’s hesitation, Darcy prompted him. “Well?”

“I think it unlikely you will ever regain your sight, but the fact that you can sense light is something. Many people have disturbances of sleep once they lose that ability. You are also still able to focus your eyes. I recommend practicing that ability. It will set people around you at ease; give them the illusion you can still see. When you are well enough to receive visitors, I recommend wearing a pair of tinted glasses. People will be less likely to notice you are blind. I will bring some for you to try when I come again tomorrow. As to walking, it may be possible, but it will require determination on your part. For the moment, continue with your program of sitting up in bed for spells and pushing against your valet’s hands. Once you are well enough, it might be advisable to go down to Bath, to get your strength back.”

Darcy ground his teeth again. He had been tempted to snap that he was not an old man. Instead, he sat in stony silence.

“Thank you, Dr Gordon,” said Richard. “We look forward to seeing you again tomorrow.”

The doctor packed his bag and took his leave. No one suggested he should venture next to Matlock House.

“I am not going to Bath like some gouty old man!” barked Darcy once the doctor was out of earshot.

“Perhaps it would be good to get a second opinion,” suggested Richard. “I had hoped an English doctor would take a more optimistic view than Dr Freud.”

Darcy sighed and tried to sink down onto the mattress, jerking his body clumsily. “What was your father yelling about before you brought him up?”

“Unfortunately, we ran into Clive Trevor in the vestibule. Father dismissed him.”

“Why on earth would he do that?”

“You know what Father’s like. He’s upset about your condition. He had to lash out at someone. It’s invariably what he does when he feels impotent.”

“It makes no sense,” said Darcy. “We need Trevor for the townhouses. Try to get him back, will you? I shall take him on as my secretary. I will need one now.”

“Well, I’d better head back to Matlock House with Mother, to catch him before he departs. Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?”

Darcy closed his eyes and gave a small shake of his head.

“I’ll come again tomorrow as soon as I can get away from the barracks,” Richard promised.

When the door clicked shut, Finn returned from the dressing room where he had retreated to give his master and the colonel some privacy. Darcy had drawn the spare pillow of the bed over his head. Finn knew his master was disappointed. They had all hoped that Dr Gordon might give a more favourable prognosis than Dr Freud.

“I will see if Mrs Flowers has that soup ready for your dinner, sir,” Finn said, snuffing the candle Dr Gordon had left burning on the commode.

“Leave me alone, Finn,” came the muffled reply. “I’m not hungry.”

Chapter 28: Audentis Fortuna Iuvat

Elizabeth had some difficulty convincing her uncle it would be a good idea for her to join Jane in London to help earn bread for the Bennet family. Mr Gardiner regretted using the subterfuge of work to bring Jane to the metropolis in order to meet with Mr Thorne, especially since it had not worked out. He realised that he should have anticipated how lonely Elizabeth would be at Longbourn without Jane and her father. In the end Mr Gardiner relented, only because he believed himself and his wife would be better company for Lizzy in London than the members of her family remaining in Hertfordshire. He also believed Charlotte capable of managing her betrothed. It was agreed that if Mr Collins should indicate his intention to visit Longbourn, Elizabeth should return to Hertfordshire for the duration of his trip.

Thus, Elizabeth arrived in London the day after Twelfth Night.