Chapter Seven
Bennet Residence – Sunday, May 10th, 1896.
Elizabeth poked her head inside the nursery.
At the back of the manor, she felt a little sheepish when she realized she hadn't stepped into papa's private nursery since she was in her youth. Remembering what she'd discussed with Mr. Darcy, she narrowed her eyes as she took in the familiar surroundings.
"The glass windows, the holders for papa's flowers… even some of his old work tools should be here." She mumbled to herself once the doors were closed.
Elizabeth wanted to make sure none of those servants were observing her this morning. Remembering her conversation with Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth turned as she approached an area of the nursery where she would find what she was searching for. Walking through across the path, she felt a flow of memories return to her as she heard papa's far off voice talking to her.
"Little Lizzy? Do you see this here?" Papa Bennet's voice asked.
"The bud here, papa?" Little Elizabeth asked. She stood on the chair which helped her place her tiny hands on the table. Papa Bennet chuckled when he reached over and helped his little daughter sit on the table as he answered.
"Yes, Lizzy. The bud here. Do you want to know what color the Lizzy will be?"
"A pink?" She asked as she played with her legs but she never left papa's eyes.
"No, my sweet… a shade which will match your complexion perfectly!"
"What color will it be, papa?" Elizabeth asked in a voice which could have shattered glass.
Papa leaned over and he ignored his daughter's cry when he gently answered.
"When the Lizzy blossoms… you'll get to see it for yourself after I'm finished planting it outside, Elizabeth. Be patient and the Lizzy will bloom!"
Elizabeth pressed her lips together when she walked to the spot where papa spoke to her about that particular bush and here – she soon found herself standing before the table – and there… as she blinked… was the Lizzy bush. Reaching out, Elizabeth felt her throat twist when she whispered.
"He never got the chance to plant this… mama passed away the day he told me about it…"
She'd been a small child of five when her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Bennet, passed on and the occurrence of her death was unknown to Lizzy. All she'd been told was when her mama died, Papa Bennet took to prayer and become engrossed in his Catholic Faith shortly afterwards. Elizabeth, now as she reached out and touched the dead leaves of the bush, remembered how Papa talked endlessly about her mother but Elizabeth been a small girl then. She barely remembered her mama but hearing stories about her seemed to make her feel close as the relationship between herself and papa grew. But then in her youth… Elizabeth shook her head when she returned to the moment.
"No. Mr. Darcy asked me about what I liked about gardening and here it is!" Elizabeth told herself as she drew her shoulders back. Her hands were now on the pot of the dead Lizzy bush. She remembered what Mr. Darcy discussed about watering the plant to bring it back to life. And she would do that! Once the pot was in her hands, Elizabeth picked it up, before she turned and then when she was out in the fresh morning light, bounced her eyes back and forth before she made her way across the lawn where she knew where the water pump was. The birds of the air chirped and Elizabeth recalled her encounter with Mr. Darcy by his fence.
Placing the plant down, Elizabeth crouched down before she reached over and remembering how papa taught her how to water a plant, Elizabeth soon watered the dear bush to the best of her ability. As the water moved from within the pump and onto the plant, which was indeed dead, Elizabeth thought about how papa told her stories about the splendor of gardening… how peaceful it was to work with one's hands… planting God's Lizzys…
But Elizabeth didn't reflect on this as the water finished its' job. When she knew the plant had enough water, she took the pot in her hands and peering around her, she spotted a location where she would set it before she would retrieve it later. Thankful none of the servants or even Norman were watching, Elizabeth made her way over to the small fountain and here – she placed the Lizzy bush beside it. When she drew herself up, she softly spoke to the bush.
"Even though you've been dead for some time… I would like you to grow so I can bring you to Mr. Darcy's manor sometime soon. He and I have expressed an enjoyment of gardening and between you and me," she leaned forward and crossed her arms, "don't let any of the other friends' know about our little secret! Mr. Darcy is known as 'the Beast' of Diamond Springs but he finds solace in gardening! Especially Lizzys! So," she kept her eyes on the little bush, "please blossom so I can take you there to see him!"
Then after Elizabeth gently spoke this to the bush, she turned and made her way back to the Gothic manor. She hoped with all her heart that the bush would be presentable for her next meeting with Mr. Darcy as she approached her home. When she stared at the building, she placed her hands on her hips as she thought.
"I believe I should ask the nurseryman a few questions about gardening."
And with this in mind – Elizabeth made her way inside but kept what she secretly planned on doing to herself. Name one thing she wished was to have her intentions known; especially to her social friends. Already, she knew the social season was increasing and she was invited to several parties. All of which were from her friends' in town. But when she entered the living room, Elizabeth only wanted to respond to one invitation in particular: Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy's.
"I hope he will be pleased with the bush when I see him again," she thought as she seated herself by the desk.
Once she had the quill in hand, she gently replied to his recent invitation to attend Diamond Springs. This time – the event would take place in the afternoon – out in the garden.
"And he invited me to attend on Wednesday, May 13th." She remembered as she continued to write. When she was finished, she sealed the envelope before she Lizzy and asked Norman to send it to Diamond Springs immediately. And as any obedient butler – Norman did so.
Diamond Springs Manor.
Wednesday, May 13th, 1896.
When Fitzwilliam stepped out of the Chapel, he expressed his gratitude to Father Charles.
"Thank you, Father," he began as he hobbled with his cane, "I can't inform you how appreciative I am that you brought Our Lord here! He means a lot to me."
The Catholic priest from St. Mary's smiled and placing his hand on Fitzwilliam's shoulder, responded.
"Son? You're most welcome. But it is a humbling grace to bring Our Lord to you! Given what I know of you… I understand why you seek the consolation of Our Lord. He's always here and He will help anyone who asks for His help."
"As everyone knows," Fitzwilliam replied but he again felt the ache in his back.
He tried to hide this but it didn't go unnoticed from Father Charles. The kindly priest's hand gently tightened when he asked.
"Fitzwilliam? Is it your back again?"
Fitzwilliam nodded as the pain intensified as he answered.
"Yes, Father. And I believe I should be…" then he closed his eyes when he realized his lungs started to increase with the similar cramps. He inhaled when footsteps sounded on the floor when Francis was called.
"Master Fitzwilliam! Another one of your spells?" The butler asked and Fitzwilliam disliked hearing this! When he tried to shake his hand away, the pain only continued to sear through when Francis spoke to Father Charles.
"Father? I believe you're finished here. Master Fitzwilliam is suffering one of his episodes again."
"God bless you, son," the voice of the priest soothed and when Fitzwilliam tried to open his eyes, he realized the world blurred a little as Anne appeared and escorted the priest out. The morning of Wednesday the 13th of May was approaching the hour when Miss Bennet would appear for their afternoon planting of their Lizzy bushes surrounding the manor. But Fitzwilliam had asked for Father Charles to come early so that he could seek spiritual direction. And when Father brought Our Lord in the Eucharistic for Exposition, Fitzwilliam was more than thrilled to have him stay for a little longer so the two could silently talk with Jesus in the Holy Host for a while. But when he'd stepped out of the Chapel, Fitzwilliam's lungs cried out in pain and his breathing became harsh again.
The cane dropped to the floor as Fitzwilliam's vision blurred more. Francis, if there was any sign of thankfulness in him, took hold of Fitzwilliam by the shoulders as he bobbled over and the butler said.
"Master Fitzwilliam? This isn't one of those episodes where you're able to handle it on your own. We're going to have to ask Doctor Sterling to come and do another one of his pressure holds. Otherwise," he turned and Fitzwilliam's world spun, "you're not going to meet with Miss Bennet today. We know you enough to detect when you're lungs aren't well. And right now? Anne?"
Fitzwilliam wished Francis wasn't fathering him when he heard the butler finish.
"Best inform Miss Bennet's butler that Master Fitzwilliam won't be seeing her today. Once he's lying on his back – I'll drive into town and get Doctor Sterling. Will you help me with him, Anne?"
The elder maid nodded as she replied.
"Yes, Francis. This way, Master Fitzwilliam."
If his breathing wasn't causing him such problems – Fitzwilliam would have barked.
"Leave me alone, the both of you!"
But he wasn't able to when he closed his eyes and when he tried to inhale – it only increased the pain when his head fell backwards and the two servants helped him into the drawing room. The hunchback he was, Fitzwilliam was actually grateful for the concern his servants had for him but he also disliked feeling he was a prisoner to their concerns. If he knew his older brothers, Phillip and Henry, they would have beaten and kicked him in the stomach and only laughed at him for his "breathing spells." Unlike what society knew of 'the Beast' of Diamond Springs, Fitzwilliam was the youngest of the Darcy Brothers' but for reasons only known to himself as well as his immediate family, Fitzwilliam was kept a secret from the rest of the world. And much to the pleasure of his brothers – they liked this immensely! When he found himself lying on the couch, which caused more pain, Fitzwilliam heard Francis speak.
"I'm off to town! Doctor Sterling should be here shortly! Keep trying to stay awake, Master Fitzwilliam until I return!"
In his mind, Fitzwilliam mumbled.
"And I for one wish you would vanish into a hole!"
But he kept this to himself when Anne touched his forehead and her voice only increased Fitzwilliam's yearning to escape when she whispered.
"And he's running a fever again! Best make this quick, Francis!"
"Right on it, Anne!" Francis answered and Fitzwilliam heard the man retreating. If only…
Against the inability to breathe, Fitzwilliam remembered something and when he reached into his pocket… he took out Our Blessed Mother's Rosary beads… then his soul began…
"I believe in God, the Father Thee Almighty…"
Just when Elizabeth was about to ask if Norman was ready to depart, she was startled when the butler knocked on her chamber door.
"Miss Bennet? A letter from Diamond Springs Manor is here for you! On urgent request!"
Elizabeth, as she was seated by her mirror, quickly turned and nearly caused Sophie to drop the necklace she was placing around her neck when she answered.
"Norman! I will be there!"
"Gracious!" Exclaimed Sophie, who tried to clasp the jewelry in her hands, "Miss Bennet! You startled me so! And you're moving along as if -"
"Keep it to yourself, Sophie!" Elizabeth exclaimed.
"I hope something hasn't happened at Diamond Springs!" She thought as she quickly stood and rushed over towards the door. Gracious, indeed! Whatever was overcoming her? As the maid mumbled to herself, Elizabeth approached the door and before long, opened it and there, standing before her, his hair disarrayed, was Norman. And in his hands – he held an envelope.
"As I mentioned, Miss Bennet," he announced, ignoring how she was judging him by his appearance, "this is from Diamond Springs. Francis -"
Elizabeth wouldn't let him finish as she swiped the paper out of his hand as she replied.
"Must have delivered it himself, I take it?!"
"Yes," answered the stunned butler.
Elizabeth ignored the feeling to apologize as she tore open the envelope and read the contents.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet,
Due to some circumstances – Mr. Darcy will not be able to see you today.
Regards,
Francis."
Elizabeth blinked and her world seemed to stand still. Mr. Darcy wouldn't be able to see her today? She stood staring hard at the lines as her heart beat. Remembering how Francis didn't seem to like her, she quickly turned and asked Norman hard.
"What time did Francis deliver this?"
"About five minutes ago, Miss Bennet," Norman answered.
He wasn't a bit amused when she tried to hide her disappointment but he knew her. Folding his arms, he crossed his leg in the doorway as he asked.
"Miss Bennet? I believe you're not pleased hearing your meeting with Mr. Darcy has been canceled. Am correct?"
Elizabeth knew she couldn't hide this from Norman. Unlike most of the servants, who were of the household, Elizabeth grew up alongside Norman and he was similar to her father. Or more like a second father and she recalled that her papa and the butler were good friends. Sophie, one of the newest hired maids, was still mumbling to herself when Elizabeth looked at Norman as she softly replied.
"Yes. I am disappointed."
"I thought as much, Miss Beauty." He gently answered and he gestured with his eyes for her to step into the second hallway. Making sure Sophie was a bit distracted, Elizabeth stepped out into the hall behind Norman as he gestured for her to follow him. When the door to the room was closed, he whispered to her.
"Francis informed me he was riding off to call for Doctor Sterling. It concerned Mr. Darcy if that makes you feel better."
Hearing this, Elizabeth felt her heart beat again as she asked.
"Francis told you he's gone to fetch Doctor Sterling? For Mr. Darcy?"
"Yes, Miss Bennet." The butler replied and he held an air of mystery about him. This always made Elizabeth curious so taking a step forward, she narrowed her eyes as she asked.
"Norman? What do you know about Mr. Darcy?"
"I know something about his condition, Miss Bennet," he responded but Elizabeth wasn't so easily fooled. He managed to capture her curiosity when it concerned 'the Beast' of Diamond Springs and regardless that she'd only had one dinner with Mr. Darcy, along with the humiliation of his brothers' mockery of him two weeks before, Elizabeth wanted to know more about Fitzwilliam Darcy. And what unnerved her too was Norman knew Francis.
Instead of talking about Francis, Elizabeth softly asked.
"What condition does he have, Norman?"
"It's one reason why he's known as 'the Beast', Miss Bennet," Norman answered but at that moment… the door to her room opened and Sophie stepped out. Elizabeth never liked it when she was left in suspense as Norman straightened himself before he nodded to her. Elizabeth knew this was his form of informing her he would resume his duties and she was more perplexed yet longing to know more about what else he had to say about 'the Beast' of Diamonds Springs! When Sophie asked what she wanted to do to replace her cancellation with Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth knew the Bennet servants never missed out on anything worth listening to, Elizabeth turned and answered.
"Sophie? You can return the necklace back to the box. You already know about how I won't be seeing Mr. Darcy today. Instead… why don't we sort through some of the dresses I won't be wearing for the social gatherings? I know some women around town wouldn't mind having some of my dresses for donations."
"Usually, you wouldn't do something like that, Miss Beauty," another voice spoke.
When Elizabeth heard the familiar voice of Olivia, she turned to her right, and the other woman, carrying a basket of laundry, she answered.
"No. You are correct, Olivia. But when I was reading the paper earlier, I read an article that wrote that an area of Newport is expressing that they're open for anyone to donate clothing to a local women's group. And since spring cleaning will be taking place soon, I thought it would be fine if some of my dresses go to them. Besides," she gestured towards her bedroom, "I'm finished wearing most from last season's. And it would be pleasant if I could have another supply of new gowns soon."
"Indeed, Miss Beauty," Olivia answered as she made her way past the lady of the manor.
"It's whatever you wish. Donating wasn't something I would expect to come from you."
"I see." Elizabeth replied and she was surprised herself.
As the day progressed from glooming over her disappointment of not seeing Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth wondered what was happening with her attitude towards "donating" to the local women's group to help the ladies of the town, who weren't as fortunate as she was, to have her dresses. Once Sophie returned her necklace, Elizabeth turned as the woman asked.
"So, Miss Bennet… where should we start? The old gowns or the new ones?"
"Not the new ones, Sophie." Elizabeth replied as she re-entered her bedroom.
"Let's begin with the old ones. They're still fresh and if there's any tattered ones: I'll inspect them to see if I want them to be donated. I also have some other ones which I want to browse…"
And from there, Elizabeth soon had an assortment of the gowns she wished to contribute to the local women's group for the ladies to have. And when she spent a considerable amount of time gathering them together, she asked that they be put in boxes for the ladies' to open when they received them. She felt a little flattered when Sophie, at one point, held out an old gown she'd worn when she was younger as the maid exclaimed.
"Miss Bennet! Dare I say what's on my mind?"
"If you must," Elizabeth answered and a flood of memories entered when she watched as the woman held her gown out as she answered.
"Seems you were wearing this one for a show! It's an old woman's gown of the Medieval Period!"
"Yes, I recall that event," Elizabeth answered as she continued to inspect another dress.
"It was for an event when one of my aunts arrived and she'd only journeyed from London at that time. She insisted that I wear it for a friend's party and when I wore it…" Elizabeth paused as her cheeks heated, "I never forgot that party! It would will be of use to someone else because I only wore it once."
"You must have been the center of attention at that party, Miss Bennet," Sophie replied as she neatly folded the gown before she placed it on the bed.
"I'm sure every gentleman was tripping over their shoes for you!"
"Yes, they were," Elizabeth softly replied as the memory replayed in her mind. But then she returned to what she was doing and as the afternoon progressed along – Elizabeth only wished to keep her mind off of her disappointment that she wouldn't be seeing Mr. Darcy. Yet when she approached her writing desk, sometime later, the Lizzy he'd given her was still in its vase and upon seeing this – a sparkle of hope entered when she sat down and started to compose a letter to the local women's group in Newport. Elizabeth wondered how they would react when it was signed –
"From Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
"Again – take in a breath, Master Fitzwilliam." Doctor Sterling directed.
Lying on his back, Fitzwilliam tried to do as the man asked. What seemed forever, he was thankful he prayed the Rosary, but when that annoying doctor appeared… it was all Fitzwilliam yearned for! He was as disappointed he wouldn't be graced with Miss Bennet's presence when he remembered how Francis and Anne worked together to make sure she wouldn't be able to see him due to his "condition." When Doctor Sterling entered the living room, Fitzwilliam was finished praying the Hail, Holy Queen, when he felt the doctor place his hands on his lungs.
"Breathe, Mr. Darcy…" he heard doctor Sterling again… "breathe."
His eyes were closed and when he inhaled, the pressure in his lungs were released. It was as if he were swimming in deep water… and whenever he thought he would make it to the surface… to breathe and inhale the fresh air… it was only another half a mile to the surface!
"Oh, thank goodness!" Anne exclaimed.
The woman been beside him throughout the time he was praying the Rosary and when Fitzwilliam opened his eyes, Doctor Sterling took his hands from his lungs but then he checked his pulse. Annoyed, Fitzwilliam made a sound in his throat but the doctor shook his head.
"No, Master Fitzwilliam. I want to make sure the rhythm of your heart is the same. Otherwise, if there's any change, even the slightest, we may have to enforce your brothers' rules about your medications."
He was able to talk at this point.
"My brothers' are out of town, Sterling! Care to not mention them again?!"
"Master Fitzwilliam," Anne began but Fitzwilliam wasn't in the mood to listen to a lecture.
"No, Anne. And this is the time when I want to make it clear that I want no mention of either of them! As I am in charge and before they return" he inwardly rolled his eyes at the mere sight of them, "I want to make it clear that they never be brought up!"
When he felt Doctor Sterling release his fingers from his throat, Fitzwilliam turned to Anne as he finished.
"Is that completely clear?"
The kindly woman, though Fitzwilliam knew her to be gentle, fidgeted a little before she replied.
"Yes, sir. It is clear."
"Pleased to hear that." Fitzwilliam responded but then Doctor Sterling announced.
"Well, Mr. Darcy… you'll be pleased to know your heartrate is normal but your breathing spells are not."
"As I presumed when I watched him step out of the Chapel," Francis answered and Fitzwilliam wished the man would leave! Or at least… fall into a hole…
He kept quiet when he felt another ache in his back. Fitzwilliam cringed when the area in his spine let out a zapping pain as he swallowed, trying to surpress the desire to groan aloud. When he turned away, he felt the ache return and immediately… Doctor Sterling, along with Francis and Anne, helped him lay back on the couch but this only hurt more.
"Take those clothes off of him and bring some cold water, Anne!" Francis shouted when Fitzwilliam felt the throbbing ignite in his spine.
"His brothers' made a show of him, alright!" Doctor Sterling answered as he rolled Fitzwilliam to his side. This only caused the groan to slip and Fitzwilliam lamented as the doctor took something out of his pocket.
His eyes were closed again and Fitzwilliam heard Francis rush over as the butler asked.
"Doctor? A knife?"
"Yes. I'm going to tear away Master Fitzwilliam's shirt to see what is going on. Seems he wasn't simply suffering from another breathing spell. I heard what his brothers did to him that evening…"
Then Fitzwilliam felt the tearing of his shirt when Doctor Sterling used the knife and tore away at his top. When he heard the man cry out, "Oh, dear goodness!" Fitzwilliam wished he hadn't suffered another one of his breathing episodes when Francis answered.
"Yes, Doctor Sterling. Dear goodness is right!"
