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She looked at me with eyes that knew what I was not saying. “What is between you and Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth? I know he has been in Hertfordshire and you have seen him, but you did not say you were more than friendly acquaintances.”
I shrank from her knowing gaze. “There is nothing between us, aunt. He is a friend, that is all.”
She pursed her lips and sat back in her chair. “You may believe that, but you would not have raced to London to help the unknown relation of a man you had only recently become friends with if there was not something else there.”
I flushed. She was right, and I knew it. I had not been thinking clearly, and I had been reckless and foolish. I had only thought about getting to the colonel, and how I knew I could save him, and how devastated Mr. Darcy would be if his cousin died. I could not let that happen.
And of course, that begged the question: why could I not let that happen? Colonel Fitzwilliam was no one to me. People died every day—I could not stop the natural progression of life. Babes would be born and others would die. It was the way of the world.
“I do not know, aunt. Mr. Darcy has become… he is… we are very good friends, I think.”
“So you helped not because of the colonel, but because of who he is to Mr. Darcy?”
I nodded.
“I thought as much.” She sighed and rose from her seat. “You need rest and food. We will talk more about this later. Cook has kept a plate warm for you. Come down when you are dressed.”
She left the room and I was left staring up at the canopy, wondering what I would do now. I knew I sometimes took my duty too seriously. Mrs. Allums had told me so, and my mother had told me the same. Even my father had said it was not my responsibility to heal all of England. But I could not shake the feeling that it was my duty to help whoever came into my path. If I did not, was I not wasting my gift? Picking and choosing who could be healed and who would remain ill? Thankfully, I had never come across a situation where I would feel compelled to heal a truly horrid person, but if I did, would I leave them to suffer?
“You are too tired for this, Elizabeth,” I said to myself.
I rose from the bed and rang for the maid, seeing my gowns were already hung in the closet. I chose something simple for dinner and sat down to brush my hair. The maid came in and began pinning my hair up, and I let my mind wander. I thought of how grateful I was that my parents had insisted my aunt be told if I was going to be spending months at a time with her. She had believed in my abilities much easier than my father had, and was not above reaching her hand out for mine in the morning so she might get a dose of vitality. I had teased her that that was why she wished me to stay with her so often, and she had replied that it was the opposite. She had believed in me and wished me to be with her not because it benefitted her, but because she liked me so well.
“There you are, miss,” said the maid.
“Thank you, Lucy.”
She helped me into my gown and soon I was on my way down to dinner, or whatever meal was being served at this hour.
Aunt Amelia was away visiting her daughter, so it was only Aunt Ida and me at the table. The footmen brought in a few delicious smelling dishes and were promptly sent away, aunt saying she would ring if she needed them.
“Thank you, aunt. I am terribly hungry.”
Aunt Ida preferred hearty country fare to the typical fussy Town dishes—much to Aunt Amelia’s horror—and when her sister was away, she ate simply. I said a prayer of thanks for that preference and dug into the meat and potatoes smothered in gravy.
By the time I had finished my meat, my aunt had wriggled the entire story out of me.
“Have you thought of what you shall say to Mr. Darcy when he calls on you?”
“Do you think he will call?” I asked.
“Why would he not? He brought you from Hertfordshire and left you rather unceremoniously on the street. His cousin is now out of harm’s way. Of course he will call.”
“I shall say what is appropriate for a call. I will thank him for bringing me to Town and ask after his cousin.”
“And when he says his cousin is miraculously healed, what will you do?”
“I will congratulate him on a misdiagnosis.”
She scoffed. “That will not work here and you know it.”
I sighed. “You are right, but I doubt Mr. Darcy will discuss details of his cousin’s health with me. I do not even know the colonel.”
“I hope you are right, my dear. Mr. Darcy is a clever man. He will not be easily fooled.”
I tilted my head in thought. “I have found that when it comes to the unbelievable, even the most intelligent man will not believe what is right before his eyes.”
My aunt smirked at me with the same expression I saw in the mirror so often. “You are correct in that. Let us hope Mr. Darcy is as arrogant as his fellow man. He does have a reputation for pride. It may work in our favor here.”
