My Dearest Mr. Darcy Page 3
Anyway, it was a plea from William himself that encouraged me to break my silence on the subject and put myself on the line, so to speak. I did not quite realize how close the two were, the affection real even if not of a romantic nature as Lady C desired. He approached me several afternoons ago while in the library. I love how he does this! As I have related previously, the boy's affection toward me is growing, as is mine toward him, maturing into a real relationship beyond what was anticipated for kin. A bit of a shock, actually, and faintly unsettling in its unexpectedness, but strangely comforting. Hmmm… I must dwell on the emotions a bit at a later time.
So, Miss Anne… William had picked up on Raja's absorption, overheard a smattering of conversations on the topic, and so asked me frankly what my opinion was. Naturally I gave it to him, not a problem for me to do so! He was very serious and deeply troubled. “Uncle, do you think you could really help Anne? Because if you truly do, then I would support you one hundred percent in discovering a way to overcome Lady Catherine's dominance. My cousin has suffered for too long, and if you are correct in your diagnosis, has suffered falsely. This is intolerable. What can we do?”
It was so heartfelt that I could not refuse to accept the challenge. And yes, I confess the vision of ruffling Lady C's feathers was appealing! He chuckles evilly. That aside, the question was how to wisely go about the issue. It was my brilliant idea to talk to Malcolm. The power and prestige of Lord Matlock and all that rot. He was frankly stunned at our diagnosis from afar, having only heard the conclusions from Lady C's medical hacks. He was a bit skeptical, naturally, and I was sagacious, humbly demurring that we could be in error (although I was certain we were not) but would not know until we could physically examine the girl. The more we talked I could discern that he rather savored the idea of hassling his overbearing sister, although he would never admit to the emotion, so I let it pass. Yes, Jharna, I can be politic when I deem it proper! Now we will wait and see what transpires. Raja, bless his soul, is glowing in happiness. Very odd.
July 9
London
Whew! What a week! Besides the numerous dinner engagements, musical entertainments, and so on (Egad, how do people do this year in and year out?), Raja and I finally were allowed to examine Miss de Bourgh. It would take the entire book to fully detail the drama, and even then I do not think I could do it justice. Let me attempt the highlights.
What Malcolm said or did I have no idea. Today, as we sat about after breakfast doing basically nothing, a message arrives from Malcolm insisting Dr. Penaflor and I hasten to the de Bourgh townhouse immediately. Thankfully doctors are used to such summons, so we grabbed our bags and were ready before the carriage had been brought around.
We were greeted by Malcolm, who steered us quickly into the small parlor. “I have badgered Catherine for days and she has finally relented, sort of. Actually it is Anne who called for you to be here, standing up to her mother as I have never seen before. I was unaware that she even knew of the interest and discussion of her health. Frankly I am still abashed, and I do not think Catherine will ever recover! I suppose we have for too long thought of her as a child. Be that as it may, she is waiting and Catherine is momentarily stupefied, so follow me.”
The examination was proceeding well, and as we expected, until we were interrupted by Lady C's London physician barging in. Apparently she was not as stupefied as Malcolm thought. As an aside, I was dressed in my typical attire; cool and altogether comfortable as well as roguishly handsome, I might add. Raja was dressed in one of his new suits. As impeccable as William always is, somehow managing to look serene and breezy despite the scorching climate and humidity. Handsome to be sure, but one would think him Adonis incarnate the way Miss Anne's eyes roosted on him, all aglow and adoring. She ignored me completely. Maybe I am losing my charm. I was amused and disconcerted simultaneously. However, there has been no time to explore the sentiments, nor was Raja anything but the consummate professional. Very odd.
Dr. Hayes, fifties, short and obese, naturally florid and profusely veined face not benefiting positively by a bellicose fit, was quite verbose in his opinion of our medical expertise. His command of the English language was impressive, I will give him that, at least for a time that is. Eventually the silent disregard from Raja and me wore on his nerves. Either that or the screeches of Lady C began to bother him as well, because he began to splutter a bit and repeat the curses. Malcolm had a hold of his arm, to keep him from rushing us I presume, but was unable to drag him away. Poor Miss Anne was mortified, Raja and I unable to focus on her while we tried to speak rationally to the raging man. It was messy and extremely perturbing, even to me who rather wallows in drama.
I do think we were all at an impasse, no one coherently paying attention to anyone, when a sudden shrill whistle pierced the air. It was Anne! She was sitting up in bed, her face undoubtedly ruddier than it has been in years, eyes flashing, and jaw clenched alarmingly. Needless to say, we were all speechless. “You!” she snapped in a ringing voice, pointing a rigid finger at the nearly apoplectic doctor, “Will leave this instant! How you can barge uninvited into a lady's room in this manner is unconscionable! Uncle Malcolm, take him away. Mother, I wish for you to stay, but remain silent, I beg you. I need to hear what they have to say! Please, allow me this.”
Then the poor dear seemed to deflate as a balloon, collapsing onto the pillows with tears falling and the rush of color fading drastically to leave her paler than ever. Broke my heart. Raja was giving her his patented empathetic face that I have seen melt many a folk. Finally the atmosphere calmed and with Lady C observing avidly from the side, Raja and I resumed. Aided tremendously by our new stethoscopes and with the knowledge gleaned from Dr. Nomikos's lecture, we confidently concluded our original diagnosis. Miss Anne, per her answers to our questions, began feeling ill in her late teens. Fatigue of a general type that gradually increased, pallor, faint tremors with exertion as well as dyspnea and vague heart palpitations, muscle spasms, loss of concentration, occasional ulcers to the corners of her mouth, and flattened brittle fingernails. Classic signs of anemia. Her heart was strong, if beating a bit too fast, although whether that was from her illness or recent distress is impossible to say. I confess that Raja and I both listened for an inordinate amount of time to her heart and lungs, the stethoscope enabling us to hear sounds crisper and simply undetectable by placing an ear to the chest. Quite amazing and far less embarrassing to the patient, but I digress.
We spoke at great length to both Miss Anne and Lady C. Anne's eyes glowed with a hope that was heart wrenching to witness. I stressed that although we were certain of the diagnosis, the cause is impossible to pinpoint. The treatments, mainly of a dietary nature with supplements of an iron-rich tonic and various herbals brewed into tea, will absolutely improve her condition but will not be a cure and the degree of improvement can vary. Lady C seized upon that unsurety, apparently gleaning some sort of bizarre joy in knowing that we could not cure her daughter. How very sad it was, Raja unable to hide his disdain. Anyway, we finally departed with the promise to check on her again and provide the tonic's formula to the apothecary of her choosing. All in all a good day's accomplishment!
July 15
London
William, Elizabeth, and Georgie will be departing on the morrow for Pemberley. I have been rather torn. My heart desires to view my ancestral home with a tangible ache, but I am also enjoying the wonders of this great city. Raja is complacent, leaving the decision up to me. Col. Fitzwilliam, however, has arranged some time away from his Regiment and was hoping we could stay around for the type of diversions only bachelors are allowed to partake in. As he put it, with a wink toward a scowling William. Under the awkward circumstances I chose not to point out that there is many a married man who continually partakes in such diversions. I do believe William would have tossed me out of the house if I had joked in such a manner. The boy has a wicked sense of humor, but not about topics moral.
Ah, William! What an ama
zing young man! As I have related in numerous passages, I am continually startled by his intelligence and breadth of knowledge. James and Anne would be so very proud. The past several days have allotted us many hours to commune privately. Raja has been so busy with his daily visits to Miss de Bourgh, cavorting with the friends he has made, and the lectures on Spanish and Indian medicine he has been giving at the Academy that I have not seen much of him. William has concluded the bulk of his business affairs and with Elizabeth and the girls busy most afternoons at teas or shopping or whatever else it is women do in their spare time, William and I have been left alone. As you would always say, Jharna, I do have a lazy streak in me, so lying about on the comfortable chairs in the library has been a delight. Since William attends to his business in there, and also has a moderate lazy streak I have noticed as well as a love of literature, we end up conversing without really planning it.
Today he rather haltingly asked my opinion on Elizabeth's health. She has been rather like a bustling bee, flittering from one event to the next with seemingly inexhaustive energy. However, I, like William, have noticed grey shadows under her lovely eyes. Apparently William discussed his concerns with Madeline, and her advice was to leave it be and trust. I concurred, especially as they will be leaving tomorrow for the quiet restfulness of Pemberley. The conversation flowed, and before I really know how it happened, he was telling me the entire tale of how he met the beautiful Miss Bennet and their convoluted history toward matrimony. Quite the story! No, Jharna, I did not badger it out of him! He offered it up freely, not that I can pretend that my curiosity over the subject was not high.
Further proof of what I had already surmised: this is a relationship and marriage of extreme emotion and the truest love I think I have ever witnessed, except perhaps for James and Anne. What a marvel it is! I must say, as he related his first encounters with Elizabeth and how his infatuation grew, it brought back memories of you, Jharna. Not that our liaison was remotely the same, quite the contrary in fact, which is why I found myself musing on it. There were no sparks when we met the first time at your father's fiftieth birthday gala. Lord, that man can put on a party! I was so young then, only in India for one year, and still captivated by the cultural differences. We have laughed on it often since, my dear, how you thought I was foppish and vain while I barely glanced your way. Of course you were married then, so I would have been a louse to do so! I was instead intrigued by the dozens of other beautiful women about, including your sisters! My, how things may have gone differently if any of them had paid me any mind!
No, it is not the similarities but more the oddities of how life weaves loose threads into patterns of beauty even with the knots and errors visible. I loved your husband, Jharna. Kshitij Ullas was one of the finest physicians I have ever met in all my travels and taught me more than any other single person. He was my mentor, friend, father, and companion. I grieved when he died, more than many who claimed to do so. Despite the love that grew between us, dearest Jharna, and the joy we shared, I would still to this day give my soul to have Kshitij Ullas alive and scolding me for some dim-witted mistake! Yet, at the same time, I cannot imagine the fifteen years we spent together passing in any way but in your arms. I have long since given up trying to find the logic in it. I suppose it is as William said while telling me his tale, some things are simply meant to be. Karma, you would say in that imperiously serene tone that I adored, nodding sagely.
My admiration for William grew exponentially during those hours. And my happiness for what he has built with Elizabeth. They are almost nauseating in their adulation for each other, the barely suppressed passion humorous to observe and tremendously refreshing. The man that William has become, the husband and soon-to-be father, is a man worth knowing. It comes back to timing, Jharna, or karma if you prefer. Your death nearly two years ago (Lord, has it really been that long?) was the greatest loss I have ever experienced, except perhaps for Alex. I have gone on living, fairly easily I thought, with my usual eccentric habits and optimism and jocoseness intact. Yet, my continual dreams of home and family invaded my tranquility, so much so that I reckoned a visit to the homeland was beckoning. The news of William's marriage lent credence to the excursion. The excitement to be home I anticipated, although I have been surprised at my lack of restlessness. Of course, it has only been a month. What I honestly did not anticipate was the developing relationship with William. Frankly, the staid William of my previous acquaintance was not really the type of person I gravitate towards, nor do I believe I was more than a vague annoyance to him. It is vastly different now. He is different now. As am I, I suppose. Whatever the case, I am highly enjoying our evolving friendship. And Elizabeth and Georgie! My, it has been many a year since I have been surrounded by such a wealth of female attention! Even Elizabeth's sisters are beginning to loosen up a bit and falling under the charms of George! Ha!!
Yes, I hear you laughing, Jharna.
July 25
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Home at last! We arrived yesterday, the weather precisely as I remember it being this time of year. Hot and dry, sun shining beautifully and touching the Peaks and fields below with rays of gold. Stunning. All the pastures are a vivid green that almost hurts the eyes. And Pemberley, ah, my beloved Pemberley! How beautiful she is. Mr. Clark is still the head groundskeeper, William informs me. Obviously he has followed in his father's footsteps with equal skill as the gardens are perfection. I rose before dawn today in order to meander through the pathways in solitude as the sunrise woke the flowers, the aromas rising deliciously. I was almost late for breakfast, so lost in my reverie was I! I know, me late for a meal!
I did not have the chance to write ere we departed Kent. Miss de Bourgh was finally allowed to accompany us, but it was a dramatic scene, I am told. Raja and I stayed at the inn while Malcolm and Madeline confronted Lady C. William and Elizabeth had cleverly addressed the formal invitation to Miss Anne only. I know for a fact they rendered no formal invitations to anyone else, the festival primarily for the staff, and the inclusion of family a given. That William was quite put out by Miss Bingley insinuating herself into the company was obvious, at least to me. One annoying relative is enough, so they were succinct in their invitation to Miss Anne.
She is responding very well to the treatment. I have noticed a number of revealing glances between Miss de Bourgh and Raja. Not sure how I feel about it. I would be thrilled to see both young people find love, Miss Anne especially as she deserves some reward for tolerating her mother all these years with stoic patience. However, it is easy to misplace gratitude for affection. What is surprising is that Raja seems to be drawn to her and he has never taken his innate empathy to such degrees. I will study the situation carefully, not that there is much I can do to halt it, but I do not wish to see either hurt unduly.
Elizabeth, I am relieved to note, appears her sunny, exuberant self. Her pregnancy by all appearances seems to be progressing without complications. William is walking a foot off the ground, his eyes following her every move, not that they did not do so before. The day we arrived he was retrieving furniture from the attic. I was delighted to see the old cradle. I remember Phillip lying in it, as well as William so many years later. I know it is an heirloom, probably slept in it myself, although as there were two of us I truly do not know what Mother did! Should ask William if he unveiled a second cradle in the attic. Interesting.
I am anxious for the festival. Elizabeth is being quite secretive about the planned activities, although I can readily discern from her smug expression that it is to be an extravaganza extraordinaire! I have such fond memories of past festivals. Mother vainly tried to keep us inside but we always snuck out and mingled with the servant's children, all of us getting filthy and eating until we were ill. Good times. I specifically recall that it was the day before the Festival when James turned twenty, home from University for the summer and to celebrate his birthday on June 4, and my parents invited old Lord Matlock and his family to the Manor for the
party. It was the first James, or any of us for that matter, had seen the Fitzwilliam girls for a number of years. Malcolm and James were at Cambridge together and close friends, so Father decided to include them on the guest list. Anne was fifteen, I think, and absolutely stunning. So was Muriel actually. Catherine was not there, as I remember, probably married to Sir Louis, now that I consider it. Anyway, even Alex and I at twelve could appreciate an attractive female, but James? Lord Almighty! One would think by his age he had seen his share of gorgeous ladies, but apparently not. Or, more to the point, I now know in my age-earned wisdom, not the one who would steal his heart. James took one look at Lady Anne and fell head over heels. It was clear to everyone present; James completely tongue tied and goggled eyed. Ridiculous, in fact, and Alex and I loved it! Teased him mercilessly, but he was undeterred, even when threatening to beat us senseless. Yes, indeed, happy memories!
July 31
Pemberley
Visited Rowan Lake today for a refreshing picnic organized at the last minute by Pemberley's most excellent Mistress. However, before I relate the day's fun, I must jot down the astonishing and amusing conversation with William earlier in the morning.
He discovered me where I was hiding in the library, entering sheepishly and carrying an enormous book in his arms and asking if he could have a private chat. It was exactly the opening I had been waiting for without even realizing it. He had questions about Elizabeth's pregnancy and birth, all understandable and typical questions, but the very fact that he was inquiring about a delicate, female-related topic proved to me even further the superior nature of the relationship they have. I teased him a bit as it still sends me into near hysterics how a grown man, married to boot, can blush so readily! Brilliant! I was kind though, turning on my Dr. Darcy pose and launching into it.