GREEN
Once Elizabeth changed out of the dress that had been her constant companion for all the most difficult moments of her young life, she felt a bit relieved. While it was true that her ordinary clothes would never match Miss Bingley's ideas of proper attire, her husband had never given the slightest indication that he found them unacceptable. For certain, he had argued with her mercilessly about any number of things at Netherfield, but never about such mundane things as clothing. She thought that her life as mistress might require her to thread the needle on expectations. Her clothing, for just one example, would need to show just the right amount of elegance. They had to be neither expensive enough to appear to be boasting or taking advantage of her position, nor plain enough to attract ridicule. That, however, was a problem for another time.
Her problem for that moment, was her husband. He had shown an astonishing amount of either hubris or good sense in his declaration to his household staff, but she had to admit that there was not a single thing she could complain about since she had set his thinking straight. In fact, he had courted outright ridicule from his staff, but took all the responsibility for his actions, his mistakes and the consequences, without any prevarication or softening of the blow. He could have easily made excuses, such as the fact that he was deliberately compromised by Mrs. Bennet, but he had not left the slightest hint that it was anybody's responsibility other than his own.
The maid that Mrs. Radcliff had assigned, a young woman of about Elizabeth's age named Martha, asked, "Is there anything else, Mrs. Darcy?"
Elizabeth peeked back into the bedroom to see footmen busy carrying the old furniture off to be stored in the other room, or preferably burned and asked, "What are those two doors?"
Martha blushed and looked at the floor, saying, "The one on the left is to the master's suite," at which Elizabeth joined her in her embarrassment.
Martha continued, "The one on the right is to a shared sitting room. I am told the master had it redecorated when he took his inheritance. It is quite lovely, in my opinion."
Martha seemed to feel she had overstepped, so Elizabeth took her arm and said, "None of that, Martha. I have much to learn about this house, and it would be ever so tiresome to have to drag every detail out. You are as entitled to your opinion as anybody, and I would be obliged if everyone below stairs knew that I like to know what they are thinking."
Martha looked skeptical but nodded her head. "As you say, Mrs. Darcy. The master is well known to be a fair man, but not all masters are like that, so we have learned to be careful. Most of us watch our toes."
Elizabeth nodded. "That is good thinking, Martha, but you need not fear me. I am not as high on the instep as some others you may have encountered. Do you know that before today I shared a single upstairs maid with four sisters and my mother?"
Martha showed some real surprise, so Elizabeth said, "It is quite true. You will find me to be a fair mistress, but you need not take my word for it. You will know for yourself soon enough."
Martha nodded, still apparently skeptical, but willing to take her at her word for the moment.
"I would like to meet my husband before the doctor appears, but I am not quite ready to brace the lion in his den just yet. Might you be able to send a footman or his valet with a message to meet me in the sitting room?"
"Of course," Martha said, then stepped off to find the master's valet, which seemed the best option.
Elizabeth went into the sitting room, and while it looked somewhat more masculine than the room that she had pilfered all the furniture from, there was nothing she wished to change. All in all, it was quite lovely. She looked around for a few minutes, when she heard a scratch on one of the doors. She called to enter, to meet a well-dressed man of about forty years.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Darcy. I am Bates, the master's valet," with a bow exactly appropriate to the situation.
"The pleasure is mutual, Mr. Bates."
"The master will join you momentarily. Shall I send for some refreshments. Have you had anything to eat?"
"No, we have not, though we stopped twice since Hatfield. I do not know what condition the doctor will want Mr. Darcy in, so perhaps some tea, and a light meal. If stew or soup is readily available, that would be lovely. If not, cold bread and cheese should be sufficient."
She wondered why the man had not asked her husband, but assumed he was doing his best to allow her to act as mistress.
"Very good, madam."
She watched him go out another door that she could see went to the corridor next to her bedroom and went back to perusing the room. As predicted, it was only a minute or two before Darcy entered.
"I apologize for the delay, Elizabeth. I was writing to the rector in Meryton to get your marriage lines sorted out. I have no idea how it came out wrong, but I hope you believe that I had nothing to do with it."
Elizabeth smiled. "Of course not. You see –"
Darcy watched expectantly and nodded showing she had his attention.
"The rector, Mr. Smithson has one son and three daughters. His chances of attaching the correct name to any of his daughters at any given time is hit or miss. I suspect it was an honest mistake, easily corrected. However, the lines are my only true legal protection, so I would like them corrected expeditiously. I am happy that you took the initiative, although –"
Darcy thought that sounded somewhat ominous but nodded for her to continue.
"These last few hours you have done wonderfully, Fitzwilliam. You have kept your side of the bargain admirably, and I appreciate it. I can say that you have gained my trust, so I will take you at your word – on this and all other matters. Trust is earned, and I believe you have shown what you are made of. Had you not done so though, and were I isolated and alone at Pemberley as per your previous plan, I believe I would have been dead certain you were planning something nefarious, and probably would have worked myself into a lather over it."
Darcy smiled at her assertion of trust, which was coming far earlier than he had expected. "And you would have been very sensible in that attitude. I would deserve what I got. I am happy that you trust me but let me say that I trust you implicitly. You had a very difficult day and managed the nearly impossible. It took real courage to do as you did, and I admire you for it. It could not have been easy."
"Fitzwilliam, I was very happy of how you took responsibility for your share of this debacle in the parlor. I do wish you had not taken my family's share as well, but I will trust you know what you are doing."
Darcy leaned forward, took her hands, which was becoming less and less awkward as time went on. "You are my wife, Elizabeth. My behavior was abominable, but from this point forward, I aim to earn your trust every day. I am certain we will both slip from time to time, but I will give you my word as a gentleman, for what it is worth, that I will do my very best – always."
Elizabeth smiled and replied, "Speaking of our bargain, Fitzwilliam, I am quite satisfied with the conditions of our contract, but with your concurrence, I would like to make a small change to the term."
Darcy looked confused, but gamely said, "It sounds like you know something about contracts."
"I do. Quite a lot as it turns out. My maternal grandfather taught me about them, and quite a lot more. His son, my mother's brother is a very successful tradesman. This may sound like a diversion, but it is not. Would you like to know what else he taught me?"
Darcy chuckled. "I will in a few minutes."
Elizabeth smiled. "He taught me about the power of an unambiguous decision. Do you know the best way to cross a stream using skipping stones or a fallen log?"
Darcy shook his head.
"You look at the path carefully, commit to it, and go like mad. Hesitate and rethink the decision halfway across and you are likely to end up in the drink."
"That makes sense," Darcy said, while silently thinking it made sense, in a general sort of way, but he could not fathom how it applied to his situation.
Elizabeth reached down to her reticule, which she was still carrying around until she had some idea where things were in the house and pulled out the bone comb that she had used to tidy up Darcy's hair in the coach. She handed it to him and said, "This comb probably cost all of a shilling forty years ago. I received it from my maternal grandmother – to cheer me up one day when I hesitated in my decision making and ended up soaked. I would like you to take it, and then give me something sentimentally important to you but not particularly valuable."
Darcy was confused, but going along, he removed a ring from his hand. "My Cambridge class ring. Half of the people of my social circle possesses one, and the other half usually has one from Oxford, earned or not. It was the last thing I can remember getting any praise from my father for."
Elizabeth smiled, took the ring in exchange for the comb. "I would propose this change to our agreement. The conditions are the same – namely that we will both do our very best to love, honor, cherish and respect the other."
Darcy chuckled. "But not obey?"
Elizabeth laughed along with him. "Not on your life. I submit that if you wanted an obedient wife that you could have taken your pick a hundred times over in the last decade. No, you do not want one, never have, and …"
Darcy smiled, and she continued, "… even if you did, that ship has sailed."
Darcy laughed. "All right, I will agree to the clarified conditions for our agreement. What term are you suggesting?"
Elizabeth took a deep breath. "Till death us do part."
Darcy gasped, and then a slow smile spread across his face, while Elizabeth continued, "You have proven your constancy. I truly believe in the last half‑day we have had more true interaction that most courting couples have in a year. You have shown what you are, and I am more than satisfied. I cannot say that I love you yet, but I respect you. I mostly like you lately. I appreciate you. Love seems nearly inevitable – eventually. Aside from that, you have neatly boxed me in by so thoroughly accepting me as mistress. It would be nearly impossible to escape the connection now, even if I wanted to – which I do not. You have proven your constancy to my satisfaction, and I would hope my courage earlier may have proven mine."
Darcy closed his eyes, took both of her hands in hers. "I will not lie. I believe I am much closer to loving you than either of us might believe, and I have no doubt we will get there, sooner than anyone could have predicted. Others may smile, we will laugh. I accept your terms. Till death us do part."
With that, he looked up to find his lovely wife with her lips about three inches from his.
Elizabeth said, "I am certain you will agree that the kiss at the church was pathetic. Let us see if we can do a better job this time."
Several minutes later, Mrs. Darcy was happy to breathlessly report that they could in fact do a much better job."
It turned out that the kitchen had some excellent chicken soup available by chance, or the cook had prepared for all eventualities, as a nice meal appeared a few minutes later. It was well past dark, and much later than Elizabeth would normally eat, but the day had been anything but usual. She wondered how long it would be until they had a routine at Darcy house.
They kept up some lighthearted banter during the meal, Elizabeth not willing to rock the boat by insisting that she fully expected her husband do be home in the morning.
They had just finished when a knock on the door heralded the arrival of the physician.
He said, "Good evening, Mr. Darcy," before looking expectantly at Elizabeth.
"My wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. We were just wed this morning. Elizabeth, this is Dr. Warren."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Darcy. Now, if you do not mind, I will go with your husband to his room for his examination. It may take some time."
Elizabeth liked the no-nonsense attitude of the physician, who apparently felt not the slightest need to fill the air with chatter or to discuss things with the new wife just to follow the social niceties. She imagined a physician could skip such activities with impunity more often than not, but she was not quite satisfied with his plan.
"Not so hasty, if you please doctor. Since I will be the one to nurse him if he does not get well, I would appreciate it if you did all the examination you can in my presence. I understand you might want to repair to his room for the physical examination, but I would like to hear the questions and answers about the history of this illness, and I insist on hearing your diagnosis from your own lips so I can ask questions, and be certain of the answers, with nothing lost in translation."
Warren looked to Darcy, who said, "You may as well acquiesce, Warren. She always wins, so the sooner you accustom yourself to that fact, the better."
Elizabeth laughed along with him, and the doctor chuckled, not particularly put out by the banter.
Mrs. Darcy was quite happy to see the doctor doing all the things that she hoped a qualified physician would do. She had seen all too many of them who blustered, tried to sound smart, fell back on bleeding, cupping or other nonsense; and otherwise did not show their mettle very well. Warren talked to her like an intelligent being as they went along. He had apparently acted as a surgeon in the army at one time, his training seemed excellent, and best of all, he asked intelligent questions, and subsequent queries drilled in for details mercilessly. It was an impressive feat, worthy of the best barrister.
He asked about symptoms, and did not accept half answers, digging and digging for every detail. He asked everything that had happened to Darcy in the two months since he last saw him and drilled him for who exactly he had been in contact with, along with the where, when, and how long of each visit.
He performed some relatively innocuous parts of the examination such as listening to his breathing, checking his glands, examining his eyes closely and estimating his fever with Elizabeth in the room. He asked about what treatments he had received, looking more to Elizabeth than Darcy, so she detailed the exact amounts of laudanum she had given him (without cheating), what it had been put in, the willow bark tea, and what he had to eat all day.
When all that had been done, he repaired to Darcy's bedroom for the remainder of the exam and returned a quarter hour later.
Darcy sat next to Elizabeth on a sofa and took her hand as the doctor sat across from them.
Dr. Warren said, "Straight or with sugar?"
"Straight," Elizabeth said without hesitation.
"I cannot be certain beyond perhaps a 60-70% probability, but the evidence suggests you have Typhus, Mr. Darcy."
Elizabeth gasped in consternation and exclaimed. "Typhus!"
"Yes, ma'am. Are you familiar with it?"
Both men looked carefully at Elizabeth, but she paid them no mind. "Yes, unfortunately, I am. One of our tenant's sons got taken up for poaching on a lord's manner who has not hunted in over a decade. He never did get a trial as he died from Typhus before the Assize sat for his case. He died at fourteen over a rabbit."
"That happens quite often. Just so you know, that does not happen at Pemberley. We have more civilized ways to deal with poaching."
Elizabeth nodded in satisfaction. "My father is an indolent man. His only saving grace is that he reads widely, and he encouraged me to do so as well. I read quite a lot about Typhus, and all the other epidemic diseases. It was all I could bring myself to read for half a year."
She turned to Darcy. "I suspect your visit to your uncle the judge was the culprit, or it might have been any of the solicitors. It is endemic in jails. Some say that even with 800 crimes punishable by death, far more prisoners die from Typhus than the rope, and many of them have infected jurors and barristers as well. They say that having your trial delayed until the next Assize is tantamount to a death sentence in many districts."
Warren said, "Quite right, Mrs. Darcy! Most of the time, disease takes far more soldiers in war than enemy action. Typhus and Consumption are quite common, so some of your meetings with your cousin's compatriots might have done the trick. We will never know."
Darcy said, "This is all interesting, but since I do not know all these things, please tell me what I need to be aware of."
Warren frowned. "The first thing I will suggest is that if you follow your plan to get on a ship tomorrow, it will probably save your estate some expense. You will most likely be buried at sea at minimal cost."
Darcy startled, but Elizabeth said, "Do not fear, sir. He will not be traveling on the morrow."
Darcy looked at her, and she did not blink, just stared back at him. "Do not fret, Fitzwilliam. We will not forsake your cousin. I have some ideas we will discuss in the morning, after you do not leave."
"I must concur with your wife, Mr. Darcy. It would border on the suicidal to leave now. Dead men rarely complete their missions. We are not certain, but if you do have Typhus, your survival will very much be the luck of the draw. It would assume you are taken care of wherever you are going, and many physicians or apothecaries are as likely to kill you as help you."
Darcy nodded, admitting defeat with something of a bit of relief. "It seems I am outnumbered by the two of you and my own common sense."
Elizabeth leaned forward and took his hands. "We will get through this together, Fitzwilliam. If it helps, I believe the delay will help your cousin, not hurt him."
He nodded in confusion but decided to defer that discussion. "What can I expect, doctor?"
Warren looked him over carefully. "The first thing to be aware of is it is a very dangerous disease. Left untreated around three to five in ten succumb within a month. You will get the best care you can get from Mrs. Darcy and myself, but even that will leave you with one or two in ten."
Both Darcys stared at him, frowning furiously in consternation. Darcy looked carefully at his wife and was pleased to see that her look was sad but stoic. That morning he was not even certain she would have been all that unhappy if he died, but she certainly did now. However, whatever her levels of affection may or may not be, she was clearly a woman who would do what needed to be done.
He looked back and said, "Say more."
"If it is indeed Typhus, you should get a very rapid spike in fever. The onset is variable after exposure, so you may be feeling much like you are now for just a few days, or as much as a fortnight. Once it takes hold, you will be burning up with it quite rapidly. That is the most dangerous part of the ordeal, and we will have to take all measures we can to keep you cool."
Darcy nodded, and Elizabeth said, "You and I will be discussing that at some length, doctor."
"Yes, ma'am – we will. About a week, or perhaps a fortnight later, presuming you survive, you will develop a red rash all over your trunk, and possibly other places. That will last for anywhere from a fortnight to a month."
"Sounds unpleasant."
"It is," the doctor said grimly, "but, if you survive the fever, you will have a chance."
Elizabeth said, "What about aftereffects. I am inordinately stubborn. I will keep him alive against any odds, but what happens later?"
"It will take two to six months for your husband to regain his strength, at best. Some take longer, and some never recover, but if we browbeat him into pushing himself after he is ready, he should be able to recover. He may also have trouble with memory. It is quite common for people to temporarily lose memory, particularly recent events. Sometimes they recover some or all the lost memories, and sometimes not. Some end up with nervous problems, spasms and the like; while others show complete recoveries half a year later."
Both members of the couple looked grim, but Elizabeth said, "Your instructions are easily done. What more?"
"It is mostly a matter of taking good care of him. We have no idea how it is transmitted. People theorize it might be in the air, or through contact with an infected person, or bad water or food. We have no idea, so you need to assume it could be any or all those. Mr. Darcy, and everyone who cares for him should stay away from the rest of the staff. I would assume a couple of yards would do, but that is just guesswork. Everyone caring for him requires bath and clean clothes, including smallclothes, every day before bed and washes their hands with soap and hot water every time they touch the patient. Always keep a pot warm on the fire. Order enough spare clothing for everyone. You should dress for comfort if you will be seeing to him yourself."
Elizabeth just scoffed at the qualifier, which left Warren and Darcy chuckling.
"Be careful with the clothing. You will need explicit instructions for the housekeeper and maids. Your clothing should go directly into a basket, and then dump that into already hot water, basket and all, without anybody touching it. Make certain the maids and laundresses wash their hands thoroughly after handling the clothing."
Elizabeth nodded, happy that the doctor showed such good practical sense.
"We will try everything to keep him cool. Make sure you have access to ice, blankets, plenty of coal for the stove, willow bark tea, and I will prescribe a few other concoctions we can try. We do not know how we will have to keep him comfortable. Keep the windows open a bit so we have fresh air."
Elizabeth nodded, and Warren said, "That is probably enough for the moment. I will be visiting daily until we see if his fever spikes."
Darcy, said, "I thank you, Warren. I have no doubt I will receive the best care."
Warren looked somewhat embarrassed, looked at Mrs. Darcy and said, "There is one more delicate matter. Need I say it?"
Darcy looked in shock, but Elizabeth just said, "Say no more, doctor. We will defer any particularly close contact until the disease runs its course."
Darcy nodded, unhappy that his wife was so nonchalant about telling him that he had probably received his last kiss for some time, or perhaps ever – but since he had not expected to get his first kiss from his new wife for quite some time, he reckoned he would need to be satisfied.
Warren said, "One last thing. Write to your uncle, the judge, and anyone else that you feel should be discreetly made aware of your condition. Whoever gave it to you is probably already feeling the effects, but they should know, ensure they get good care, and isolate themselves from others for a while."
"I will see to it. Thank you, Warren."
With that, the doctor rose, bowed and said, "I will return sometime tomorrow, ma'am," hardly paying any attention to Darcy.
"Thank you, doctor."
