Chapter Twenty-Seven

Near two hours were gone before Darcy and Theodore had at last been able to begin their return to London.

Bingley had sent for a surgeon with due haste to attend to the injuries of Theodore and Wickham, the latter of whom was moved with as much care as could be managed to the servants' dormitory. He grew ever more agitated with each moment that passed and the sensation of his limbs did not return; he was near to hysterics by the time the Meryton surgeon arrived. The surgeon scolded him for whinging like a child throwing a tantrum before eventually dosing him with laudanum to settle him down. His examination was then conducted, and the diagnosis of Wickham's condition was grim.

Two of the bones of his spine, just below the neck, were broken. The thick cord of nerves that ran the middle of the spinal column was likely injured, which—according to the surgeon—explained Wickham's lack of feeling below the neck. Darcy asked if Wickham would regain the use of his limbs and the physician had replied that he could not say for certain.

"I strongly recommend his being seen by a London surgeon, sir," the man said as they were stepping into the hall. "There are doctors there who are better versed in the care of the spine than myself. Mr. Wickham may regain the use of his arms and legs in time, but then he may not. The specialists there may provide a more conclusive diagnosis."

Darcy conceded with a nod, and then the surgeon was taken to Theodore that he could have his arm looked at. One of the bones of his lower left arm had indeed been broken, but the surgeon declared it a "clean break" and had put it back into place in a moment. The arm was then wrapped up with a splint and a sling devised, and Theodore warned to keep it as immobile as possible, otherwise it would require a cast.

Darcy then begged of Bingley to allow Wickham to remain at Netherfield until transportation to London could be arranged.

"It will be done tomorrow, if I can arrange it so," he assured him. "But it may, perhaps, not be until next week."

Bingley sighed. "He can stay until he can be moved to hospital, of course," he replied. "But I don't know who'll want to look after him until then."

"I'll see to it that Mrs. Younge tends him until his removal," said Darcy. "Though I am sorry to put you to the trouble of housing them both until then. Is there a room here on the ground floor that we might have his bed moved to, that your servants need not be disturbed by his presence?"

Bingley said that there was a small bedroom, likely meant for a high-ranking servant, that had yet to be put to use that he thought would do well enough. While Wickham was being moved there, Darcy went to speak to Mrs. Younge.

"This is not a demand, it is a request—you are free to refuse," Darcy told her after explaining what he wanted. "I only ask because it would not be right to assign one of Mr. Bingley's maids to the task, and you are well known to Wickham."

Mrs. Younge scoffed. "You mean to say that because we have been intimate, there need be no concern over my possibly having to see him undressed—or doing the undressing."

Darcy recalled having seen a maid depart Wickham's room in a hurried state and made a mental note to have a word with Bingley about keeping an eye on the girl. If Wickham had indeed taken liberties with her, yet another by-blow might well be the result of her folly.

As if he doesn't have enough of those already, Darcy mused sourly.

To Mrs. Younge, he nodded. "I will compensate you for his care. The surgeon has provided a list of instructions, and if you need anything, have Mr. Bingley procure it. He knows I will repay him."

Mrs. Younge agreed with a sigh of resignation. Darcy then had gone in search of Theodore and found him with Bingley in the dining room.

"Join us, Mr. Darcy," said Bingley as he gestured to a chair. "No sense in letting my cook's hard work go to waste. Do not be concerned that my sister will join us, for what she witnessed has given her a terrible headache."

Theodore snorted and continued to eat his soup, and as he had not eaten since breaking his fast that morning, Darcy agreed to join them. After he was served, he informed them of his success with Mrs. Younge, addressed the issue of the maid, and spoke of not wishing to linger too long, as they were already going to be very late.

"Why do you not take my horses and leave yours here?" Bingley suggested. "Mine are well-rested, and I can bring yours to Town after Mr. Wickham's removal. If that is agreeable to you, of course."

"It is generous of you to offer, Mr. Bingley. Thank you," said Darcy with a nod.

Dinner was eaten hastily, the horses were traded out, and the carriage was at last on its way back to London. At every bump in the road, Theodore winced.

"Perhaps you ought to have remained at Netherfield. The Meryton surgeon could have put a cast on your arm," Darcy suggested.

"I may have a doctor do so once we're back home," his cousin replied. "It's bloody difficult to keep my arm immobile when the wheels of this carriage fall into every bloody rut in the road. The pain reliever provided by the surgeon is not entirely doing its office at present."

Theodore drew a breath, then said, "So… What do you think of that Bingley fellow?"

"Young. Perhaps a little naïve—but then, Wickham has fooled many a person with his manners," Darcy said. "I think on the whole, he seems an intelligent sort, he's eager to please, and would do well in society with the proper guidance."

"Which we can provide," said Theodore. "'Tis only fair we do something for the lad, given the services he has rendered us."

Darcy inclined his head in agreement. "I am perfectly willing to assist him."

It was well after eight when they arrived at Darcy House. Darcy undressed quickly and performed his ablutions as his valet prepared his evening wear. Theodore, though encouraged by Darcy to stay at home, argued that he would not disappoint his lady.

"Besides," said he as his own man pulled his dress shirt over his bandaged arm as carefully as he could. "As I was the one officially contracted by Her Ladyship, it is my duty to inform her that her distress is at an end."

Darcy would have argued that speaking to Lady Amelia and the Duke of Mildenhall about Wickham could wait, but the determined set of Theodore's features stilled his tongue. He would not be swayed. Thus, Darcy waited patiently for his cousin's man to assist him into full military regalia, and he insisted he take something additional for pain before he would consent to call for the carriage.

Once they were on their way to Cavendish Square, Darcy allowed his thoughts to turn at last to the young lady who awaited him there. Elizabeth had no doubt worried that he would not return in time for their first dance together, though surely her uncle would have mentioned seeing him that day. Then again, Philip had lauded the man's discretion, so it was entirely possible that, given the sense of secrecy surrounding the need for the visit, that Mr. Gardiner had said nothing.

Philip still could have, but he knew Theodore's note had said nothing about going to Hertfordshire, only that they hoped to be back before the ball was two hours in.

When they arrived, they found that the dance in progress was soon to end, judging by the time on his watch. Darcy asked to caller to hold off announcing him and his cousin until the set was finished. It gave him the opportunity to observe Elizabeth unawares while she danced and talked to Philip. She was a graceful dancer, her movements fluid and without hesitation.

And oh, how very lovely she looked! Though her hair and eyes were brown, the green satin of her gown somehow highlighted the particular shades of both—and from what he could see of it, one could not discern just by looking that the dress had been altered in less than five days, proving her skill with a needle and her eye for fashion. His eye turned briefly to Jane Bennet, who was partnered with a friend of Philip's named Hiddleston for this set. Her ensemble was just as well done as her sister's.

Both would fit in very well with the fashion-conscious ladies of the ton.

The set ended at last. The caller was drawing breath to announce Darcy and Theodore as Philip drew Elizabeth's attention to their presence by gesturing toward him. Her smile when she took him in was brilliant, and he smiled in return as the caller's voice boomed out, "Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy!"

Darcy led the way further into the ballroom. The crowd split for them as the Earl and Countess of Disley hurried toward their son, followed by their daughters. Jane Bennet excused herself from Hiddleston and walked over with Philip and Elizabeth.

"Theodore, darling, what happened to you?!" his mother fussed upon seeing his arm was in a sling.

"I fell down a flight of stairs, Mamma," Theodore replied.

The earl frowned. "That doesn't sound like you, son."

Theodore glanced at Darcy, who gave an imperceptible nod, then looked back to his father. "I wasn't alone."

The Duke of Mildenhall and his daughter had joined them, the expression on the face of the latter full of near as much alarm as Lady Disley's.

"Are you well, Colonel?" Lady Amelia asked.

Theodore turned to her, smiled, and bowed his head. "I am quite well, my lady, I assure you. Though I regret that I cannot fulfil my obligation to dance with you tonight. My arm is broken, you see, and I have been ordered by the physician who set it to keep it as immobile as possible."

"If your arm is broken, Theodore, what the devil are you doing here?" Philip asked.

Darcy was hard-pressed to keep his countenance when Theodore looked to his mother and said, "Following orders."

Lady Disley merely raised her eyebrow, then said sweetly, "It is greatly to your credit that you are here on such an important occasion for your sisters in spite of your injury."

"But Theo will miss out on all the dancing!" said Olivia.

Cecilia nodded. "Mamma, you know perfectly well we'd not have minded if our brother could not come due to injury."

"Cecilia, darling, his arm was broken, not a leg—your brother can still walk, which means he can still be here to entertain you, and especially the other unmarried ladies among our guests," her mother told her.

Darcy was not remiss to the flicker of emotion in Lady Amelia's eyes, though she was adept at concealing her distress. Somehow, though he could not imagine Theodore had spent much time in her company, she had formed an attachment to the colonel.

"Lady Disley," said her husband. "Our conversation has drawn quite enough speculation. Let us go and call the next dance."

The countess straightened her already perfect posture and nodded. The earl led her away and his daughters followed obediently.

Mildenhall stepped closer to Theodore and said in a low voice, "Do I presume too much in asking if your injury was sustained in the fulfilment of my daughter's request, Colonel?"

Theodore nodded. "It was, Your Grace," said he, before reaching into a pocket of his jacket and pulling out the letters Wickham had purloined from the Lionsgate estate. Holding them out to the duke, he added, "It is over. Mr. Wickham will not trouble you again. He'll not trouble anyone, given he can't even lift a finger to scratch his nose."

The duke's eyebrows rose in curiosity as he took the papers. "You'll have to tell me what happened later," said he. Mildenhall then scanned the letters quickly, snorting in disgust as he folded them again and tucked them into the pocket of his waistcoat. "All of this nonsense over some eighty-year-old letters. I can assure you that my family cut our ties to slavery as soon as the man that wrote them was dead."

He looked again to Theodore. "You have saved me and my daughter from a potentially disastrous scandal, Colonel. Whatever I can do to repay you, I will."

Darcy watched Theodore closely, wondering what he would say in response.

Theodore drew himself up to his full height. "If you would not object to a second son for your daughter, I would gladly have Lady Amelia's hand in marriage, Your Grace."

The duke looked between Theodore and his daughter, his gaze lingering for a moment on the latter, then smiled and nodded. "I suspect that my daughter has no objection to that arrangement."

Lady Amelia shook her head. "I do not, Papa."

Mildenhall then turned to Elizabeth, who stood smiling between Darcy and her sister. "Miss Elizabeth, I know that we are engaged to dance this set, but if it would not be too much to ask that I may delay our partnership until the second dance, I would be most humbly obliged. I daresay it is incumbent upon me to speak to Lord Disley about his son's offer of marriage to my daughter."

Elizabeth smiled. "I do not mind at all, Your Grace. Pray go and share your good news with Lord and Lady Disley."

Theodore offered his uninjured arm to Lady Amelia as her father bowed his head to Elizabeth. The three walked away and Philip turned to Jane. "I'd better take you to your next partner before he comes at me with a sword or something."

Jane laughed as she put her hand on Philip's arm. "Lord Rowarth," she said pertly, "you know perfectly well that my next partner is your father. And as yours is Miss Darcy—"

"Excellent!" cried Philip. "Means we'll get to enjoy a little more time in each other's company."

Jane shook her head and allowed him to lead her away, her next words unintelligible to Darcy's ears. He turned, at last, to the beauty still standing beside him and bowed properly in greeting.

"As I know your partner for this set to be engaged elsewhere at present, might I convince you to take a turn about the room with me?" he asked her.

Elizabeth smiled. "I should be glad to, Mr. Darcy," said she. "Although, you may find it a challenge to stand up to a duke for a partner."

Darcy scoffed lightly, then turned to offer her his arm. He soon understood where she was guiding him—to Georgiana, who stood to one side of the ballroom in the company of Mrs. Gardiner. Mr. Gardiner, he suspected, was in one of the card rooms.

"I think she was a little worried about you," Elizabeth mused when she noted the direction of his gaze.

"Were you worried about me?"

He looked down to see that her cheeks had colored. "Not so much worried for your safety as I was sorry you weren't here. I was unaware you were in any danger, for your cousin would only say your delay in coming was on behalf of the Duke of Mildenhall."

She looked up at him then. "Are you all right, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy offered a reassuring smile. "Perfectly so. I was in no danger from the business at all, nor was Theodore until he engaged in a round of fisticuffs that led to his falling down a flight of stairs. He's really quite fortunate to have walked away from it, as the other fellow did not."

When Elizabeth gasped, he reassured her that his cousin's opponent in the fight was not dead, but that he'd suffered a spinal injury that had rendered him unable to walk.

"Tomorrow I shall arrange to have him taken off of Mr. Bingley's hands—"

"Mr. Bingley!" Elizabeth cried. "What has he to do with any of it?"

Darcy paused. "Did not your uncle tell you Theodore and I were at his warehouse today?" When she shook her head in the negative, he was quick to say that he was certain Mr. Gardiner had only wished to avoid distressing her, then went on to explain in a low voice why he and Theodore had needed to know how to get to Netherfield.

"Goodness me," said Elizabeth when he had finished, and they started walking again. "What a rotten business. But much good has come of it—Colonel Fitzwilliam is to be rewarded for his efforts with the hand of Lady Amelia. No doubt your aunt the countess will be well satisfied by his match."

"Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam!" cried Georgiana softly as they at last reached their destination. "Where have you been, brother? Why was Theodore's arm in a sling?"

"I will tell you all about it tomorrow, dearest," Darcy replied. "Let us enjoy ourselves this evening, shall we?"

It was clear she wished to protest, but her good manners overcame the desire to continue questioning him. Georgiana nodded, then brightened and told him that though she regretted missing out on the dancing so far, she was enjoying observing the dancers with Mrs. Gardiner.

"I know it will mean very little to you, Mr. Darcy," said Mrs. Gardiner with a smile, "but dear Miss Darcy and I have had quite the in-depth conversation as we have disseminated ladies' fashion this last hour."

Darcy chuckled. "If there is one thing besides music that my sister can wax eloquent on at length, Mrs. Gardiner, it is ladies' fashion."

He turned to Elizabeth. "Speaking of which, Miss Elizabeth, may I be so bold as to tell you how very lovely you look this evening?"

While Elizabeth blushed and thanked him, her aunt and his sister exchanged knowing smiles.

"Darcy!"

The sharp cry turned their heads. Darcy drew a steadying breath to fortify himself against the coming intercourse with Lady Catherine, who was then barreling toward them through the crowd.

"Where have you been? Why were you and Colonel Fitzwilliam late to his sisters' debut ball?" his aunt demanded when she arrived, her hands going to her hips as she spoke.

"Theodore and I were delayed on business, Lady Catherine," said Darcy. "Business which we were conducting on behalf of the Duke of Mildenhall. You may confirm it with His Grace, if you wish."

"I already know about that," she snapped. "Lord Rowarth mentioned it to us. I want to know what you were doing for him."

Darcy fought the urge to frown. "I am not at liberty to discuss the affair with anyone but my cousin and His Grace," he replied firmly.

Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed. "I do not like secrets, Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"I do not care for them either, ma'am, but this one I am required to keep. Would you have me break my word of honor to a duke?" Darcy countered.

Technically speaking, Darcy had made no such pledge himself, though claiming that he had was likely the only thing that would deter his aunt from asking anymore impertinent questions.

Lady Catherine sniffed and lifted her chin. "Very well. I do not believe Anne has a partner for this set; I will go and find her that you may dance."

With that, she turned away in a swirl of chiffon and silk and marched off.

"Your aunt is…certainly a force to be reckoned with, Mr. Darcy," observed Mrs. Gardiner.

Darcy scoffed. "You have no idea."

"I think she just pops up to make trouble for people because she has nothing else to do," said Georgiana. She then colored and gasped, her hand to her mouth, as though just realizing how disrespectful her words sounded.

Darcy chuckled. "While I'd certainly not wish you to say so in her hearing—or that of the earl and countess, sister—I do not imagine you are wrong."

He then glanced about and noted where Lord and Lady Disley stood with their sons, their host, the duke's daughter, and Jane Bennet. They were all of them clearly deep in talk; Lady Disley was beaming, no doubt because her younger son would soon be married to a future duchess.

A future duchess so long as His Grace does not marry again and provide himself at last with a male heir, Darcy amended silently. It occurred to him then that Theodore and Lady Amelia forming an attachment was indeed just what Philip needed in order to make their mother more amenable to the latter's attachment to Jane Bennet. Aside from seeing her daughters well married within the next few years, it was sure to become the countess's sole object to convince the Duke of Mildenhall not to follow the Duke of Lansbury's example and marry again.

Lady Catherine soon returned with Anne in tow; for her part, his cousin looked thoroughly embarrassed to have been all but dragged about by her mother like a little girl. To make it up to her, Darcy asked Anne if she would care to dance before her mother had the chance to force it upon them. Excusing himself to Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Mrs. Gardiner, he escorted Anne to the dance floor and joined the set.

He danced the fourth set with Georgiana, then on discovering that Cecilia and Olivia had each left a set open for him, gladly took for former to the floor for the fifth set and the latter for the sixth. He tried, with some difficulty, to keep his thoughts from straying to Elizabeth and the men that she danced with for those sets.

Then, at long last, the supper set was called. The moment Darcy had been waiting for all week had arrived—he and Elizabeth would dance together for the first time. Her smile as he claimed her hand was radiant.

"I feel that I should warn you, Mr. Darcy," said she as he was leading her to the floor.

"Warn me?" he queried. "About what, pray?"

Her grin was a cheeky one, and he felt certain she was about to tease him. Darcy was not disappointed.

"About dancing, sir," Elizabeth went on. "We have an old saying in my family that I think, perhaps, I really ought to have mentioned when first you engaged me for two sets this evening."

Darcy chuckled, enjoying the banter immensely. "And what is this old saying, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth grinned as she took her place in line across from him. "Why sir, that to be fond of dancing is a certain step towards falling in love."