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I sat across from him in my aunt’s favorite parlor, and in that moment, I knew I could never marry him. I liked and respected him, but I thought of him in familial terms and could never see him as a potential suitor.
“How are you faring?” he asked, his eyes filled with compassion.
“I am well enough. It has been a tumultuous time.”
“I imagine it has. This is dashed awkward so I will get straight to the point.”
“Very well.”
“I wanted to tell you two things. First, that I meant what I said. I owe you a debt I can never repay and that has not changed. Should you need anything at all, I am your man.”
“Thank you, colonel. That means a great deal to me.”
“I also quite like you and would like to be friends if you can stomach it.”
I smiled. “I can more than stomach it. I would very much like to be your friend.”
He smiled. “Wonderful! Now, the second thing.”
I suspected he would speak of Darcy and braced myself.
“I wish to ask a favor.”
“Oh?”
“My cousin, Georgiana. She suffered an accident last summer. She is healing slowly, and some progress has been made, but she is far from well. Would you consider—”
He had not finished his sentence before I was responding with, “Yes, of course! Why did you not ask me when I met her? The poor dear.”
I stood and asked the maid to fetch my things. “Shall we go now? Is she at Matlock House?”
He seemed amused at my haste. “She is actually at Darcy House, just across the street. Do not worry,” he added when he saw my stricken expression. “Darcy is not at home.”
I straightened my spine and stood tall. “Very well. Let us go.”
We found Miss Darcy in the music room, tickling the keys of a beautiful pianoforte. Colonel Fitzwilliam had told me that she had been in a quarrel with a horrid man, and when she would not agree to elope with him, he shoved her and she tumbled down a flight of stairs. The man had run off, and Miss Darcy had been left with a limp and required a cane to move about. The surgeon thought the problem resided deep in her hip, but without a very dangerous—and likely unsuccessful—surgical procedure, there was little they could do for her.
“Hello, kitten,” he said affectionately.
She turned with a smile that shifted to alarm when she saw me.
“Do not let me disturb you, Miss Darcy. What are you playing?”
“Just a little something of my own,” she whispered.
“I wonder if you would help me. I have been having trouble with the fingering on this piece.” I produced a sheet of music I had had the forethought to grab before leaving my aunt’s. “Might you assist me? You are much more accomplished than I.”
She flushed, then said, “I would be happy to.”
“Wonderful!” I moved to the instrument, ignoring the delicately carved cane that was propped against the bench. How had I not noticed that she did not stand when I met her for tea? No matter. I had work to do now.
“May I sit with you?” I asked as I slid onto the bench before receiving an answer.
“Of course.”
She studied the music and I made sure my leg was pressed against hers. It was not direct contact, but I was on her left side, which was the side the colonel said was most problematic to her. My experience with hips was that both were always affected, but one was often worse than the other. Touch alone would accomplish the goal, but it would take a good while if I did not give it a nudge. Cautiously, I pressed a little energy into Miss Darcy. She did not seem to notice, so I continued.
“Is this the passage that gives you the most trouble?” she asked.
