"Miss Elizabeth! Please—Miss Elizabeth!"
She jumped and spun about. Long Tom jogged toward them, his normal implacable mask shattered and left somewhere between the garden and manor.
"What is wrong?" Elizabeth dashed toward him. "Not Miss de Bourgh?" Certainty that was not it. She would not incite such distress in him.
"No, Miss, It is my nephew—"
"Ames, the junior footman?"
"Yes, yes, him. He staggered into my rooms saying he drank half a bottle of laudanum by mistake. He though it was leftover beer and swallowed it before he realized. Those were the last sensible words. He cannot stand and he breathes so slow."
"Half a bottle of laudanum? Dear heavens! Take me to him immediately." She turned to Mr. Darcy. "Can you please get my father and bring him?"
"Certainly." He bowed his head and ran off.
Elizabeth picked up her skirts and jogged alongside Long Tom. "What has been done for him?"
"The cook brewed a stimulating tea, but I do not think it has helped."
"How long ago did he take the laudanum?"
"Three hours ago, I believe." Tom has never looked less like himself than he did now—so vulnerable and out of control.
Three hours and so much laudanum! Was it possible to survive such a dose? Papa had treated children who died from just a spoonful of the stuff. He knew some ways, but they were not always successful.
Tom led her down the dark servants' corridors to his quarters beside the butler's panty. The smell of silver polish and tobacco hung heavy in the stale air. The rooms, deep in the interior of the house had no windows. The musty darkness weighed heavily upon her.
Dim shadows from the candlelight licked Tom's nephew, crumpled on the floor, half in livery, half in night clothes. He did not stir when they entered.
"Ames, boy, look at me. I brought Miss Elizabeth. She will help set you to rights. Ames!"
She dropped to her knees beside Ames. His head hung limp, chin to chest. His breath was slow and labored, almost like one deep in slumber. She took his wrist and searched for a pulse. Great heavens, where was Papa?
Several sets of footsteps echoed just outside the room.
"Dr. Bennet." Tom clambered to his feet.
Elizabeth turned. Thank Providence he was here! Papa edged her out of her place on the floor and examined Ames.
Mr. Darcy, Col. Fitzwilliam appeared at her side and helped her to her feet. She held her breath while Papa muttered and checked the young man's eyes, pulse and temperature.
Papa pushed to his feet with a great sigh. "The situation is very serious, but not without hope."
Tom caught a strangled cry in his fist. "Thank you, sir."
"But we have a difficult row to hoe here." He turned to Elizabeth and glowered. "Made far more difficult because of you."
"Me? What have I done?"
"You angered Lady Catherine. She is quite in high dudgeon today and does not wish me gone from her sight for very long. She is concerned that I might ignore her wishes and call upon Mrs. Collins if I am gone for more than a few minutes."
"She controls what patients you will see?" Elizabeth whispered.
"She prefers to maintain the belief that she does. I am quite able to manage my own affairs if allowed to do so my own way." He grumbled under his breath. "I must leave in a moment."
"But what of Ames? You cannot ignore his need, he will die!"
He sighed and adjusted his glasses. "I did not say I would turn my back, just that this would be difficult. I cannot treat him directly, but I will give you direction, Lizzy and you will manage him."
No, he could not possibly mean—
"Sir, it is not proper," Mr. Darcy said.
"Call a maid to assist, help her yourself if you will. We have little time and few options if we are to save him."
Elizabeth gulped. "Yes, Papa. What…what must I do?"
"We must purge the laudanum from his system. This will not be clean or pleasant. Is there blue vitriol in the house?"
Tom nodded. "I believe the housekeeper has it."
"Get it and toweling, a basin, warm water. Lizzy, you will want an apron."
"I will get them." Tom hurried out.
Col. Fitzwilliam dashed after him.
"Mix half a drachm of blue vitriol in water and get him to drink it. He will vomit soon, perhaps multiple times. Have him drink warm water after he does. You must get him to his feet and keep him moving, do not let him sleep, or he may never wake."
"How long?"
"Until he recovers, or dies. I must return to wait upon her ladyship. I shall return in several hours. Send me word if anything happens I have not described." He pushed to his feet.
"Papa—" He could not leave her now. She knew so little, what is she made a mistake? What signs should she observe? How would she determine—
"Perhaps you will remember this and weigh your actions more carefully, Lizzy. I know your mother has told you often enough." He scowled and left.
Her hands trembled and her knees might not support her much longer. How could he leave this man's fate in her hands?
Behind her, Ames moaned.
If he died, it would not be because she walked away and did nothing.
Scene 40 Saving AmesHow could Bennet blame Miss Elizabeth for his Aunt's outrageous behavior? He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Her eyes glistened, eyelashes bright with teardrops. His jaw tightened. He would have words with that man yet, especially if he was to treat the Viscount.
"Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?" Clearly she was not. She was hurt and vulnerable and in need of a champion.
She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. "I am fine, thank you."
He lifted her chin with one finger. "I am not so certain I agree."
"I am merely embarrassed at my foolishness, sir. As it seems I should be."
"It is not your foolishness that should be an embarrassment right now."
"I…I…"
"You have received far too much censure for fault that is not your own and you have been far too patient with it.
She dodged his gaze. "You give me far too much credit sir."
"And you give yourself far too little." He craned his neck and finally met her eyes. "I mean to see that change." No, that was not true, what he meant for, was to kiss her.
Footsteps pounded in the hall and she jumped away. Blast and botheration! Why could he not have had a few more seconds?
Richard burst in, a small, dark jar in hand, a pitcher and small bowl in the other. "Here." He pushed the bottle at Miss Elizabeth, then searched his pocket and produced several tiny scoops.
"Pour some water." She measured out the blue-green vitriol and added it to the water.
Tom stumbled in, laden with towels. One of the young maids followed with a basin and an apron over her shoulder.
Miss Elizabeth threw the apron over her gown. "Get him upright. Tom, open his mouth."
They jumped into action.
She leaned close to Ames' ear. "You must drink this. It will taste foul and make you purge. You must swallow it if you wish to live."
Ames' face creased and one dilated eye cracked open. He gasped and muttered unintelligible sounds.
Why were they even trying? Even at his worst, the Viscount never reached this state. This man was going to die. Would it not be more merciful to allow him to do it peacefully?
How could she be so strong? Any other would have walked away, but she…her determination alone was enough to make one believe there was hope.
Miss Elizabeth poured the mixture down his throat and forced his mouth shut. He coughed and sputtered and tried to spit. She pinched his nose and held a hand over his mouth until he swallowed, repeating the process until the bowl was empty.
"Put the basin in front—"
Ames retched and vomited thin brown liquid smelling strongly of laudanum. Only a small portion hit the basin. The rest painted Miss Elizabeth's apron.
Darcy wrinkled his nose and turned aside, stomach roiling. That smell! How did she bear it so stoically? He pressed a fist to his mouth and swallowed hard.
"Give me a towel, wet it first." She held out her hand until the maid placed a dampened cloth in it. She wiped Ames' face. "There now. That is good." She looked at Tom. "Get me water for him."
She forced Ames to drink a few sips. "He must walk now." She waved Darcy and Fitzwilliam to his sides.
His head lolled to the side as they hauled up him, essentially deadweight. What was the point of this exercise? A man should be allowed to die with dignity, not hauled about like a feed sack. He drew a breath, but the expression on her face arrested him. The force of her will alone would make this man survive and woe to him that crossed her.
"You must force him to walk. If he sleeps, he might never awaken." She waved them into motion.
"Come there, Ames pick up them bloody big feet of yours." Tom clapped very near his nephew's face.
Ames groaned, eyes cracking open. One foot dragged in a slow step.
"Good man just, like that there." Tom glanced at Miss Elizabeth.
She grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Yes, just like that."
They dragged Ames through three circuits of the room. He cascaded again. This time Tom bore the brunt of his favors.
Darcy's stomach did another arsey-varsey tumble along his ribs. Clearly he had no stomach for the sick room. How did Miss Elizabeth bear it so patiently?
They hauled Ames up once again and began another course around the room. A few minutes later, he cast up his accounts yet again. The room reeked. The next time he did that, Darcy might well join him.
Two young men, fresh from the stable burst in. Darcy gulped in the fragrance of horse and barn, a veritable perfume in the now fetid room.
"We just heard, sir." The taller of the two panted heavily.
"How can we help?"
"Take the gentlemen's place and keep him walking, down the hall now. He's moving better, now, isn't he Miss Elizabeth?" Tom motioned them toward Ames.
"Yes, yes, he is." She smiled though her face was decidedly pale.
Darcy ducked under Ames' arm and allowed the groom to take his place. Ames still felt like dead weight, but perhaps his heaving stomach biased his opinions.
Fitzwilliam straightened his coat over his shoulders and moved beside Darcy. "Is there anything else we might do? Any way we might be of service?"
Tom glanced over his shoulder toward the three men in the hall. "I…I do not wish to leave him."
Miss Elizabeth squeezed his hands again. "If you might find some way to…"she bit her lip.
"Of course, we will see to it. Take care of you nephew. I will see to my aunt." Darcy said.
"Thank you, sir." Tom had never looked so—so human before. This must be the way Miss Elizabeth always saw him. How did she manage to so easily cut through the masks that fooled everyone else into ignoring the person behind them?
Darcy nodded and hurried out, Fitzwilliam on his heels.
Scene 41 Darcy and Fitz discussThey paused at the base of the stairs. Thin rays of sun trickled from a distant window above, panting the confined space in wisps of light and shadow.
"Are you well?" Fitzwilliam asked sotto voce.
Darcy swallowed hard. "Well enough. You have seen far worse."
"Indeed." Fitzwilliam lips pressed into a hard thin line. "At least there was neither blood nor gunpowder here."
Darcy suppressed a shudder. "Do you think he will live?"
"I first though it most unlikely, but now I am a bit more hopeful. I have never seen anyone ingest that much laudanum and survive, but he just might."
"If Bennet can affect this cure, then—"
"There is hope for my brother?"
"Yes."
"I do wonder how much is Bennet's expertise and how much high daughter's dogged stubbornness. She has the will of a general I once knew. One did not breathe without a direct order from him."
"Or die?"
Fitzwilliam snorted. "Should we leave her alone down here? The maid is there…"
"I do not like it" Darcy frowned. "She is a gentlewoman."
"And she is acting more like the mistress of Rosings than its mistress."
"Yes she is." Darcy rubbed his forehead.
"As much as Aunt Catherine complains of the turnover in her staff, I can't imagine what it would be if Miss Elizabeth were not at work."
"She owes Miss Elizabeth a great debt."
"Are you in danger of her?" Fitzwilliam eyes narrowed and he cocked his head.
"Excuse me?"
"Do not play that game with me. Our aunt may not see through your bluster, but I am not so easily beguiled."
Darcy turned aside and stared at the wall. A small spider scuttled up from the floorboards and into a small crack. "She has no fortune."
"You do not need one as I do."
"She has no connections."
"You do not care for the ones you have. Fewer for you to dislike?"
"Her mother is frightful."
"And our aunt is not? I ask you again, are you in danger of falling under her arts and allurements?"
"What arts and allurements? She has no artifice. She has made no efforts to put herself forward, nor call attention to herself."
"So you are in no danger—"
"No—"
"Because you have already fallen."
Darcy scrubbed his face with his hands.
"At least you would not be making a napkin of your dishclout with her."
"She is no servant!"
"That is precisely what I said." Fitzwilliam circled Darcy. "I find I quite telling that you take offense at the very notion."
"I take offense at the way she is treated by our aunt—do you know Anne already considers her—"
"To be Mrs. Jenkins' replacement?" Yes, I do. She spoke to me of it yesterday, though it was in reference of bringing Miss Elizabeth to Pemberley with her."
Darcy's eyes bulged. "What did you say?"
"That Miss Elizabeth was not currently seeking a position and a woman of her station might be offended at such an offer and that perhaps she would rather stay at Rosings with me."
"And Anne's response?"
"First, that she had little intention of staying at Rosings when Pemberley was much pleasanter—which I believe was her way of categorically stating she hopes to be free of her mother as much as we do. While she did not reject my suit outright, I fear if I cannot offer her a suitable home apart from here, you are still her first choice. Nor she did not understand—regarding Miss Elizabeth—but I did not expect it of her either. She can consider littler beyond her own wants."
"It is not a desirable trait in a wife is it?"
Fitzwilliam braced his shoulder against the wall. "No, but a fortune and an estate is. So I shall continue to press my suit."
"If need be, I can help you lease a house in town, or somewhere else."
"I would rather see Lady Catherine to the dower house."
Darcy choked back laughter. "I do not see—"
"Nor I. I shall keep your offer in mind."
Moans and coughs floated in the stale air. The both looked toward the butler's rooms.
"You know, Darce, if her father hears Anne wants Miss Elizabeth for a companion, he will probably force her to accept."
Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.
"If that happens, I do not think you should pursue your interests in her. No, no, hold you offense for a moment and hear me out. Look at this objectively. Even were you to marry her after she was in service to our family, Miss Elizabeth he would forever be stained by suspicion over how she got your proposal. Not to mention the taint of having been in service! Her reputation would be tattered and the ton would treat her like rubbish. That would not be fair to you, your children, or her. Better keep her as a mistress—"
"I will do no such thing!"
"I will never understand this rarified notion you have of marriage. But if you insist upon it so strongly, you best act to secure your happiness quickly or it may be forever lost to you." Fitzwilliam brushed past him and climbed the narrow servant's steps.
Darcy sank down on the bottom step and drove his elbows into his knees. Bloody hell and damnation! Fitzwilliam was right. If Miss Elizabeth took a position, he could not make her an offer.
Retching and liquid sounds raced through the narrow corridor. He might join the chorus himself very soon.
No woman had ever been so well suited for him or Pemberley. But she was so unsuitable. She had nothing but herself to recommend her. Would it even be fair to her to expect her to manage a place like Pemberley when she knew nothing about estates or—no that was not true—was she not caring for the people here, above and below stairs as much as any proper mistress would? With her quick mind and active nature, she would certainly rise to any occasion.
If only he had kissed her in the park as he had wished. Then he might—gah! He sounded like Fitzwilliam now. She had bewitched him utterly, mind and soul.
Scene 42 Bennet scolds ElizabethLate that evening, Darcy escaped from the drawing room and headed for his chambers. Near the top of the stairs he made out Bennet's agitated voice pouring from the sitting room near Anne's chambers. He should not listen at doors. Pemberley's servants would never do such a thing. But this was not Pemberley, and Miss Elizabeth was on the other side of that door.
"You have placed me in a most disagreeable position, Lizzy. I am most displeased."
"Papa, I—"
"No, I do not wish to hear anymore. It is enough I am now caught between you mother's insistence that I attend Mrs. Collins and Lady Catherine's that only a midwife is needed. Had you minded your own business as you should and simply directed your friend to Lady Catherine, I would have been able to manage the situation as I did with young Ames, today. You see how well he faired and Lady Catherine did not have to be troubled one whit by any of it. You have gotten quite highhanded and forget yourself."
"Yes, Papa."
Darcy peeked in. Miss Elizabeth stood, a broken doll in her father's shadow near the fireplace. She no longer wore the soiled apron, but her hair was disheveled, tendrils escaping their pins and her lovely eyes, darkly shaded and so very weary.
Bennet tipped her chin up none to gently.
Darcy forced himself back. If he attempted to harm her in any way…
"I do not know what I am going to do with you. I know somewhere in there you are a very good girl, but you are stubborn, willful and steadfastly determine to do whatever is the very worst thing for you and your family."
"But Papa—"
"Do not interrupt me."
She trembled and a tiny squeak escaped.
Darcy's fists clenched so tightly his fingers cramped.
"I said little, I see too little when you refused Mr. Collins. Now you have lost your chance with Mr. Wickham as well. He seems far more interested in one of your sisters. It is only because Jane has maintained a proper attitude toward Mr. Bingley—"
"But she likes him and he her, very much indeed."
"Which is a fortunate thing for her, I agree. She has kept us in Lady Catherine's good graces." He released her chin and turned toward the fire. "You are usually a clever girl. I do not understand why you insist on underestimating our need for her help. Have you forgotten, your merger fortune will not attract a good match, particularly with your headstrong ways?"
"So you expect me—"
"I do not expect—" he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sadly, I do not expect very much of you right now. You must consider, how will you live? I will not live forever, then what? You are so difficult, I do not expect your sisters will want you living with them. If you have no husband, your dowry will not be sufficient for very much of a life."
She bit her lip, but her jaw quivered just a bit.
"I know you think me harsh right now, child, but I am only considering what is best for you. You must know that. I know you can be a sensible girl. I merely want you to begin acting on it." He turned toward the door. "I prefer you take action on that and do not force my hand."
Darcy spun on his heel and strode away.
Bennet's footsteps headed down the grand staircase. The sitting room door shut. He crept back to it and listened. Muffled cries sifted through.
Scene 43 Darcy comforts LizzyHow fortunate his sword was safely at Pemberley lest he take it up against that wretched man. How could he be so insensible to the rare and precious gem he had in his daughter? She would have been wasted on that toad Collins. Wickham—the thought alone was disgusting. He scraped the bile from his tongue along the roof of the mouth. How dare he call her difficult? She who was all that was kind and thoughtful and caring to all around her? Who but an ogre could possibly consider that difficult, much less dare to disparage it?
His hand hovered over the door knob. Should he invade her privacy? No, he should not. But neither could he leave her alone in such distress. He slipped inside and closed the door softly behind him
*author's note: the events of this chapter were based from a case described in an 1806 medical journal article: Med Chir Trans. 1809; 1: 77–82. PMCID: PMC2128802
An Account of the Effects produced by a large quantity of Laudanum taken internally, and of the means used to counteract those effects by Alexander Marcet
. .gov/pmc/articles/PMC2128802/
