15. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
T hey stopped to change horses in an old Tudor inn in Oldham. Elizabeth was glad to stretch her legs after the cramped, overcrowded carriage. Mr. Bingley stayed in the stable yard, urging the ostler to hurry.
Despite the unfavorable circumstances, Elizabeth wanted to make a good impression on Lady Catherine. After all, she was the closest Darcy had to a mother. Elizabeth imagined she must resemble Lord Matlock, high-handed in dealing with others, but ultimately fair.
Partly to distract herself, and partly out of curiosity, Elizabeth used the opportunity to ask Darcy some questions.
"What kind of a mage is your aunt?"
"Elemental. Her affinity is earth and water."
"And your cousin Anne?"
"Anne is a Conjurer and a Healer."
"Like my sister Lydia."
"Yes, but not as powerful. Her magic was not considered strong enough for her to be trained by the Academy. Still, it is all about Bloodlines, as those like Lady Alice would say. Anne comes from generations of mages with Talent. Even supposing she is not a strong mage, our offspring could still have had powerful magical abilities. Except that it is not so simple in Anne's case. She is sickly and practicing magic drains her very quickly – much more quickly than the average mage. As a result, we have no idea of the full extent of her abilities. She might be a very powerful mage, but she cannot sustain her magic long enough to be tested."
"That must be difficult." Elizabeth wondered if Miss de Bourgh considered herself a disappointment.
"It is. But she was raised to believe she would marry me, and so, in a sense, her future was clear."
Elizabeth could not help feeling sorry for Miss de Bourgh.
"You said you and your aunt parted badly. Did you quarrel?"
"Yes. She was very clear she wanted nothing to do with me."
"And you have not communicated since?"
"How could we, when she made her wishes clear?"
Elizabeth blinked. If she had known about it, she would have suggested that Darcy should write to his aunt and try to mend things between them.
"Well, let us hope she is willing to forgive you. Do you think it is possible?"
Darcy considered the question. "It is hard to say. She is used to having her way, but she has always held me in affection. I cannot imagine that she would still be angry after so many months."
"I hope you are right, Darcy, for Jane's sake, though it does not sound like you care much for her good opinion."
"I suppose not," he said, glad that Elizabeth was abandoning her inquisition. "But I am certain my aunt will not hold a grudge."
Elizabeth nodded. "Good. I am looking forward to meeting her."
Rosings Park turned out to be an estate of considerable size. A well-kept road swept past the pretty village of Hunsford, and past a large brick house that was the Parsonage.
The Wards surrounding the house stopped them from entering. They waited patiently for someone to come, knowing that the household would have been alerted.
Finally, the door of the house opened, and the butler emerged. He came walking slowly towards them.
Elizabeth seethed with impatience. Every slow step he took was time lost in healing Jane.
"Good evening, Bartle," said Darcy. "The very person I was hoping to see! How are you doing these days?"
The butler looked uncomfortable. "Well enough, Master Darcy."
"Please convey my apologies to her ladyship for appearing unannounced and tell her I have a party of Royal Mages with me. There has been an accident, and my wife's sister has been seriously injured. Kindly inform Lady Catherine that we urgently need a Healer and a bed for the night."
Elizabeth wanted to rush into the house and see to it that Jane was taken care of. She curbed her impatience. Better to let Darcy deal with the situation. He knew his aunt best.
After what seemed like hours of waiting, Lady Catherine came out, dressed in an old-fashioned gown a la polonaise, complete with three ruffles. Her tall, powdered wig made her tower over everyone present.
She did not even look in Elizabeth's direction. "Darcy! What do you think you are doing here? You cannot simply show up unannounced. Rosings is not a coaching inn."
"Aunt Catherine, please understand that these are special circumstances. We are in urgent need of assistance. Surely you will not turn away your own nephew."
"This is my home. I am perfectly entitled to turn you away. I thought I made myself perfectly clear the last time I saw you. You do not have permission to call me ‘Aunt'," she said coldly, "and you are no longer welcome at Rosings. Do you think I have forgotten your disgraceful behavior with my daughter? I have not succumbed to senility. As far as I am concerned, you have ceased to exist."
Elizabeth looked at her sister, who was lying motionless inside the carriage. There was no time for discussion. Jane would die if she did not get treatment quickly. They had already delayed enough.
Elizabeth had no intention of allowing Lady Catherine to refuse them entry. She stepped out of the carriage.
"I am Elizabeth Darcy, Special Mage Advisor to the Prince Regent," said Elizabeth, using an enhancement spell like Lord Matlock to make her voice carry. "We are on our way to take a stand against Napoleon. Lady Catherine de Bourgh, in the name of the Prince Regent, I am requisitioning Rosings Park for the fight against Napoleon for as long as we need to use it."
Lady Catherine's mouth dropped open, and she stared at Elizabeth in shock.
"How dare you speak in the Prince Regent's name?"
"I do and I have. You may send an express to Carlton House to verify that I am indeed his Advisor. Until you hear otherwise, I would suggest you take heed. I can easily dismantle your Wards, Lady Catherine. However, I am sure you will agree it would be a waste of effort and time. Meanwhile, my sister needs Healers urgently. Kindly step aside and allow us in."
Elizabeth turned to the butler. "Bartle, I need you to bring some men to carry in my sister, Miss Bennet."
He hesitated, looking towards his mistress for confirmation.
"If you do not, you will have to answer to the Prince Regent himself." Her tone was uncompromising. She had no intention of allowing anyone to stand in her way.
In response, Lady Catherine uttered a spell to allow them in, turned on her heels, and marched inside.
"Brava!" said Mr. Bennet, stepping out of the carriage. "Well done!"
She was not sure it was well done. She had made an enemy of Lady Catherine. Not that it mattered. If indeed Lady Catherine did not want to receive Darcy, then it was no great loss, but Elizabeth did not want to cause Darcy any distress. That was all she cared about.
She looked towards him, mouthing the words ‘ I'm sorry ' to him.
He was by her side in an instant. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Elizabeth. My aunt has behaved badly. She deserved a set-down."
"You're not upset, then?"
"I am upset, but not at you," he said.
It was not the time or place to talk about it, but she resolved to do it later. The butler arrived with half a dozen footmen, bed sheets and a wheelbarrow to transport Jane, and she turned all her attention to making sure Jane was not bumped too badly.
Though, with Mr. Bingley following along with them and giving them instructions all the way, there really was not much for her to do.
Since his aunt had apparently retired for the night and left her guests to fend for themselves, Darcy placed himself in charge. Rosings had been his home as a child, and since then, he had visited many times.
Once Jane was settled in the sick room, the first thing Darcy did was go to his old bed chamber and ring for the butler.
"Bartle," he said, when the butler arrived, "you must know my aunt's customary Healer."
"Of course, Mr. Darcy. It is Lady Creswell. She conducts a Healing Circle."
Darcy recalled the name now. "Has Lady Catherine sent for her?"
"I don't believe so, sir."
"Kindly dispatch a footman requesting her urgent presence with her fellow Healers."
Darcy half-expected Bartle to argue, but to his surprise, he seemed eager to help. "I will do so at once. I am very sorry about the young lady, sir."
Darcy nodded. "Thank you, Bartle. When you have sent for Lady Creswell, ask Perry to see me."
Next, Darcy sat down to write a letter to Matlock, informing him of the day's events. Using the special signal he had agreed upon with Colonel Fitzwilliam, he arranged to deliver a message to his cousin, who would know where to find Matlock.
Darcy was beyond exhausted, and the day was not yet over. Few of them would be able to sleep, not when all their hope of Jane's recovery depended on the arrival of a Healer.
And there was something else that he needed to arrange, since Lady Catherine had neglected to do it. He went down to the kitchen himself, where he inquired about food. The French chef had gone to bed, but fortunately, his aunt had retained the pastry cook he knew as a child.
She received him enthusiastically. "Welcome back, Mr. Darcy." Behind her, the kitchen was a hive of activity. Darcy felt a wave of affection for the woman who used to bake him his famous pies when his aunt had forbidden them.
"I see you have been doing some baking," he said, hopefully.
"I heard there was a to-do upstairs earlier." It was plain from the way she whispered it, that the servants had been gossiping. "I knew you would be coming down for food, so we prepared a light supper. I daresay Mrs. Darcy would like to eat it in the sickroom with her sister."
"Thank you, Mrs. Tumbler. You're a gem. I will not forget it."
"It is the least I can do." She leaned forward. "I would love to meet your new bride."
‘New' was a relative term, thought Darcy, but he promised he would introduce Mrs. Darcy to Mrs. Tumbler, and went to find Elizabeth.
About an hour later, Noah scratched at Darcy's door.
"Mr. Darcy," said Noah. "There is a Healer here to see Miss Bennet."
Darcy jumped to his feet at once and hurried out.
"Where is Lady Catherine?" said the Healer. "I was told I was urgently required."
"Lady Catherine is my aunt," said Darcy. "I am Fitzwilliam Darcy."
"Ah, yes. The Janus mage. Your reputation precedes you. Edward Sprocket, Healer. I am delighted to be at her ladyship's service. How can I –ssssist?"
Had he slurred the last word? Darcy decided he had imagined it.
"We have a patient with an object embedded in her limb. We hope you will be able to remove it. We have sealed—"
"I attended the best Academy in the Healing arts," interrupted Mr. Sprocket. "I will certainly be able to remove it."
"Then follow me, sir," said Darcy. "I will take you to our patient."
Darcy led the way to the sickroom and knocked softly on the door. Elizabeth came to answer it.
"We have a Healer," he said. "Mr. Edward Sprocket."
Elizabeth's eyes brightened. She quickly curtseyed. "I am Mrs. Darcy. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."
Mr. Sprocket bowed. "Are you the patient? I expected you to be bed-ridden." He peered at her in disapproval. "You must not wander around if you are injured."
"No, no. Mr. Sprocket. You are mistaken. It is my sister who was injured." She stepped back to allow him to come into the room.
Bingley jumped up. "Are you here for Miss Bennet? This way, please."
Mr. Sprocket made his way to the bed. Elizabeth explained what had happened and showed him the wooden barb. He examined it for a while.
"It needs to be removed," he said. "You need a surgeon."
"But Mr. Sprocket, surely you can remove it using Healing magic," said Mr. Bingley.
"Possibly," he replied, "possibly."
Darcy was losing his patience. "Either you can remove it, sir, or you cannot. Which is it?"
Mr. Sprocket winced and raised a hand to his head. "Tomorrow, perhaps?"
"It cannot wait until tomorrow, sir," said Elizabeth, her voice despairing.
"Very well, then," said Mr. Sprocket, sounding resigned. "I will do it now."
Darcy frowned as the Healer tripped over the leg of the bed and the realization hit him. He had been at the brandy bottle.
Bingley's eyes widened as he came to the same conclusion. "If you will excuse us a minute, Mr. Sprocket? We need to consult with each other."
"Take your time."
"You cannot let him try to remove the branch, Darcy," said Bingley, his voice full of outrage. "Have you seen how unsteady he is on his feet?"
"I agree," said Elizabeth.
Darcy went to the closest room and rang for the butler.
"How can I help you, sir?" said Bartle.
"If you recall, I asked for Lady Cresswell, Bartle."
"I know, sir. She is assisting at a difficult birth with her Healing Circle and is not expected to return tonight. The footman left word asking Lady Creswell to come here when she returns, then he went to find Mr. Sprocket."
Darcy nodded. It was nobody's fault. It was simply unfortunate. "Very well. Thank you, Bartle."
He returned to Bingley and Elizabeth. "There is no one else."
"The branch must be removed, and as soon as possible, or it will fester," said Bingley. " We cannot do it. We have no choice."
"We will be risking my sister's life if we allow him to do it."
Mr. Sprocket must have overheard them, because he opened the door and Mr. Sprocket peered at them through bloodshot eyes.
"Are you doubting my skill? Outrageous! I am the product of the best Healing Academy in the Kingdom."
"We are not doubting your skill, sir," said Elizabeth, quickly. She looked to Darcy for help.
"You are foxed, Sprocket. That is what concerns us. Your hands are trembling."
"Foxed? How dare you say such a thing! I have never been so insulted in my life! I am leaving immediately. You can be certain your aunt will hear of this."
And with that, he walked away.
It was the last straw. As she watched Mr. Sprocket disappear down the hallway, Elizabeth burst into tears.
"What will happen to Jane?" she said.
Darcy pulled her against his chest and held her as her body was wracked with sobs. He searched in his pocket for a handkerchief before remembering he had given it to Miss King to wipe her hands.
"Hush, hush, my love. At least she is resting quietly, and there is no fever. I sent for a Healing Circle earlier. Apparently, they are dealing with a difficult childbirth. They will come as soon as they are able."
But Elizabeth was inconsolable. "I think Bingley had the right idea. We should go back to Founder's Hall tomorrow."
"Or, if the Healers do not arrive by tomorrow," said Bingley, "we will have to do it ourselves."