Mr. Darcy's Great Escape (28 page)

Mr. Reed and Elizabeth were there to brace him as Geoffrey raced down the stairs and crashed into his father. “Father! I was so scared, I didn't know—”

Darcy smiled sadly but said nothing, only patting his son on the head. There was something removed about his reactions.

Anne Darcy was quick to follow her brother and was raised by Elizabeth to kiss her father so that he could retreat up the stairs and into his bed. He left in his wake a nervous silence for Elizabeth, still holding her eldest daughter, as Grégoire and Georgiana had their own embrace.

“Father—he's going to be all right?” Geoffrey said, tugging at Elizabeth's dress.

“Yes, of course,” she said, hoping her voice carried more assurance than she felt in her heart.

Unexpected Guests

A brutal three days passed before Jane received word that Darcy was willing to receive visitors. It was some time before Mr. Darcy made his appearance, slowly shambling down the stairs with his walking stick and awaiting them in the sitting room. As Jane entered, he retained his English manners, however a struggle it was.

“Mr. Darcy,” Jane said. “Oh, please don't—”

But Darcy was still Darcy, and he paid no heed as he struggled to rise to his feet to properly bow to her. He did sit back down rather quickly though, instead of waiting for her to be seated as she passed him a letter. “Charles sends his regards,” she said.

“Of course.” Sadly, both of them were stuck in their own homes for the moment. Darcy would probably recover enough in a few days, but Bingley was still resting from his head injury.

There was something oddly formal about the situation in the sitting room, despite the three of them, because of so much that could not be said. Elizabeth had prepared her for seeing Darcy, but it hadn't been quite the same as seeing him with his clothes hanging off him, his face sunken, with no proper sideburns, wearing a brown wig that Elizabeth said was his father's. He was distracted—by what, she dared not to imagine. His eyes were unfocused and rarely concentrated on her or any particular thing in the room. His usual veneer of intensity was gone, even if his words were formal.

“How is Bingley?” Darcy said. “I'm not—entirely clear on the circumstances of his injuries, though they have been explained to me.” His eyes darted around like he was lost. “It seems much has occurred in my absence.”

It occurred to Jane that she had no idea exactly how much he'd been told, or even if he knew of his inheritance of Rosings. Elizabeth said nothing but squeezed his hand as Jane spoke. “He is very frustrated at being incapacitated, especially right now. It seems he unintentionally picked a fight with his warehouse manager, who was upset about not being paid.”

“The business is under, then?”

“No, actually. It seems Mr. Maddox returned home not only with his wife but with a significant stock from the Orient. If not for my husband's injuries, he would be spending much of his time assessing its worth.”

“I must say that Mr. Maddox has an amazing capacity for appearing only when he is most needed or least wanted,” Elizabeth said. Darcy seemed to half-smile at that. “Or both. Have you spoken to him much since our arrival?”

“A little. He is very busy taking care of his brother. He's barely left his side,” Jane said.

“And his wife? Her Highness?” Darcy asked.

“I spoke with her through Brian. She speaks five languages fluently, but her English is limited. She and Mr. Maddox—forgive me for saying this—they
have
been through a lot.” She watched Darcy's reaction very carefully, but he didn't seem bothered by it—or all that aware of it—and Elizabeth nodded for her to go on. “The story is that they went east instead of west, deep into Russia, where they were pursued by her father's men all the way to the coast. They boarded a ship, but had to abandon it when everyone contracted typhus. Their tiny boat washed up on an island in the very north of the Japans, and the locals took them in. From there they had to walk to—I can't pronounce it, but it's a port in the south where the East India Company docks. It took them a year just to travel through Japan, and then three months at sea to return to England.”

“On foot?”

“On foot. Mugin—the man who rescued you—went with them most of the way as a bodyguard. So did another man, but he died in the city. His name is very hard to pronounce or remember.” She added, “They have promised the story in full—when everyone is ready.” She rose. “I won't take any more of your time, Mr. Darcy. But you do look much better than you did when you arrived.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, and did not attempt to rise without the aid of his servants. It was obvious he was beginning to fade, and she didn't want to tax him. He exchanged a brief word with his wife and was then helped back up the stairs.

As soon as he was gone, Jane embraced her sister. “He will be all right.”

“I know. It's not how he looks. He was so upset when they cut his hair, but I didn't mind—I just can't bear to see him so—
troubled
. I told him about Rosings, but he didn't have a response. The papers are being drawn up, and he'll sign, but I don't know if he really
cared.”

“He needs time, Lizzy. Caroline said Dr. Maddox is the same way.”

“I only wish he would tell me what happened to him, what he's thinking—”

“Lizzy—was Mr. Darcy
ever
one to tell
anyone
what he is thinking?”

That brought a smile to her sister's face. “I suppose not. He is safe, and all are delivered from danger, even Grégoire—oh, Jane, I never told you about Grégoire!”

“What about Grégoire?”

Her sister was now fully smiling. That in and of itself was a burden off Jane's shoulders. “God, I shouldn't say it, but I suppose if I don't, Caroline will. When we found him, he was—well—not exactly tending to his vow of celibacy. Our timing was most unfortunate for everyone.”

“Grégoire? No! It cannot be true!” Maybe the others were right. Maybe she could only see the good in everyone. But still—this was their family monk.

“He was so embarrassed—it was the only time, or so he says, and I think he may be believed. But I admit, we had a few chuckles on his behalf, especially because after Darcy has spent so much time chiding him about his monastic impulses, we find him with a woman!” They broke into laughter. “He saved her from some soldiers, and she was
very
appreciative.”

“Lizzy!”

“I know! I shouldn't be saying such things about a brother! But still—” She covered her mouth. “It is so good to laugh.”

Jane could not contradict her about that. Unfortunately, she was silenced by the casual entrance of Grégoire. “Is everything all right?”

Neither of them could think of what to say to
that
. They only managed to stifle their giggles for a few seconds before breaking into full laughter as Grégoire looked on, dumbfounded. They eventually recovered but excused themselves from enlightening the poor monk.

***

There were many legal matters immediately pressing, and Darcy, without reading them, signed the contracts regarding the Fitzwilliams living in Rosings despite his ownership of the property. He just nodded when it was explained to him, ignored their concerned looks, and retreated to his chambers. He was “not at home” to any further visitors unless it could not be avoided.

One person did appear unexpectedly and was received by Elizabeth very gratefully. Mr. Bennet did not however ask for Mr. Darcy's presence nor have any wish to bother him. “Being assured that he is back in the country will be sufficient,” he said to his daughter, “for the time being.”

“At least wait until his sideburns grow back,” Elizabeth said. “He is most self-conscious about it.”

“Mr. Darcy? Self-conscious? I've never heard of such a thing!” he said. “Now, where are my grandchildren? Your mother will not relent about my superior age, but I am still quite sure my mind is sharp enough to remember having them.”

Elizabeth laughed and asked for the children, who were in the middle of being bathed and was told there would be some delay, as young Master Geoffrey was most resistant to the idea. “How is everyone at Longbourn?”

“I confess I had become so used to your mother not having attacks of nerves that it quite surprised me when you were gone. She did worry for you, though she will not be quick to admit it,” he said. “And Mary prayed most extensively. Unfortunately, it was often out loud and over grace, so I was subjected to many dishes that had gone cold by the time she was done.”

She embraced her father. “How is Lydia? Is she remarried yet?”

“Sadly, she is finding that a widow with two children and little inheritance is not the most pleasing of prospects. But I imagine she will find someone when all the soldiers come back from war and are too muddled by their experiences to notice,” he said. “It is good to have you back, Lizzy.”

“It is good to be back, Papa.”

“Master George has been enquiring about his uncle most prodigiously,” he said. “He seems eager to renew his acquaintance with his cousin.”

“How is George?” she asked. “The most I've seen of him was at Rosings.”

“He is well. Entirely a different person from his mother and father—more like his uncle, I would dare to say. He reads without instruction, and he says very little. Quite confounding in some ways, but I am not one to complain about a well-mannered boy. And his sister—well, it does help pass the hours to have Mrs. Bennet up in arms about that cat.”

“She is not too upset, I hope? It was I who agreed to it and convinced Lydia.”

“She would be more agreeable to the animal in general,” he said, “if it was not so intent on playing with the strings of her needlepoint.” He sighed with a smile. “But in comparison to her many speeches about marriage and poverty, I can manage with a few complaints about a kitten.”

***

Dr. Maddox was in his sitting room, trying desperately to concentrate on the words on the page in front of him. That in of itself was enough of a distraction for a while, but not for long. He was still too weak from his long imprisonment and subsequent fever to go out, or attend a lecture at London University, and he did not have it in him to ask others to provide distractions for him. He had learned many years ago to be independent, and that lesson was not so easily forgotten.

The task before him he was finding too difficult. Many times he closed his eyes or dropped the book as exhaustion lulled him into sleep, only to be startled again by a fresh wave of pain in his hand from his healing wound.

“Dr. Maddox,” said the servant, bringing his presence to Dr. Maddox's attention. “Your wife insists.” The man was bearing a tray with only a glass of juice on it.

He grumbled and had to put down his book, which he wasn't doing much of a job of holding up anyway, to take the glass. The sight he'd seen in the mirror wasn't pretty, but that didn't mean he had much of an appetite.

“Darling,” his wife said, entering the room. “Oh, don't stop on my account. You haven't eaten anything today, have you?”

“No,” he said after he finished the glass. “Ugh. I think the oranges are off or something. Anyway, my appetite
will
come back, just not today.” He added, “And please don't give me that look. I don't want to argue about the opium again. I'm tired of being cross with everyone.”

“We know you don't mean it,” she said. She had not come in to have the same fight they'd had every day since he'd regained consciousness. She sat down next to him, and he put his arm around her. Yes, having one's wife leaning on one's shoulder could be suitably distracting. “Well, you have permission to mean it if it's to thrash your brother.”

“I'm not capable of thrashing my brother.”

“He doesn't seem to think that. He is still walking around
armed
.”

“That is because my brother has gone completely and utterly betwattled. The
armed guard
is for whenever we all decide to exact our revenge.”

“At least, there, we can call it cultural differences. Though Nadezhda has given me the impression that Mr. Mugin was an oddity even in Japan.”

“How is she? What is she like? We've not—had much occasion to talk.”

“She is a… strong woman,” she said, not unkindly. The wives had a shared language of German, so they could converse. “She has been through quite a lot. Her father was very kind to her, but he had expectations she could not meet.”

“Maddoxes like strong women,” he said with a smile. “We're notorious for it.” He looked at her. “Dear, your hair is… well, it's more of an orange. I don't know why they say it's red. It isn't.” He kissed her on the forehead. “It's orange.”

“Thank you so much for noticing it,” she said. “Are you feeling better?”

“I don't know why I—didn't, before. So much.” He took off his glasses and then put them back on again. “There's so
much
of it.”

“Yes, dear.”

“What color is Nadezhda's hair? I don't—I haven't seen it. She wears the—the thing—” He waved his arms around his head to indicate the veils.

“I think it's black. ‘The thing'?”

“'The thing.'” He laughed. “I'm a very articulate man.”

“It is the reason I married you.”

They descended into laughter, and it felt so unimaginably good that it was only in the silence following that he tried, very hard, to focus on the glass, on the table, in front of them. And couldn't. “You—you drugged me.” He detangled himself from his wife and reached for the glass, but his coordination was so poor that he only succeeded in knocking it over, where it rolled harmlessly on the ground. “The juice.”

Caroline stroked his hair, even though it was still considerably shorter than his usual cut. “Darling—”

“I promised—I promised myself—”

“Daniel,” she said more seriously, “it was years ago, and you weren't trying to recover from an injury, however small.” She helped him straighten up and to lie back with his head against the wall, because he found his body too heavy to do it himself. “I know for a fact that you haven't slept well in two days. Look at you. What kind of doctor doesn't take his own medicine?”

“I took an oath,” he said, expending most of his concentration to say it clearly. Caroline, despite being beside him, was becoming a blur. “Caroline, I took an oath.”