Chapter 7

Warning: References to domestic abuse in this chapter

Darcy was relieved but at the same time disappointed when Lady Carlisle did not appear for breakfast the next morning. He longed for her presence while at the same time knowing he needed to avoid her.

Elizabeth had retired early last night after accidently causing Mrs. Godfrey to spill wine on herself. Everyone could clearly see that it had been an accident, but Mrs. Godfrey acted as if she had done it on purpose. Elizabeth had obviously been embarrassed and left to go to bed early. And the way that Lord Carlisle had fawned over his lover instead of supporting his wife had been unacceptable. Darcy felt heartily sorry for her.

He could not help but think of her as the day passed. He had set himself to ignoring her, but she made no appearance at all that day. Darcy found himself longing for the sight of her, since he must say farewell tomorrow with no hope of seeing her again.

He managed to avoid Miss Bingley most of the day, knowing that she would want him to ask her to dance, which he was resolved not to do. The woman really needed to set her sights on another man. She was six-and-twenty, very nearly on the shelf. She would miss her chance at marriage altogether if she continued her pursuit of Darcy and ignored all other options. Bingley had told him that Caroline had had two offers of marriage, both of which she had turned down. Darcy shook his head at the ludicrousness of it.

Against his will, he looked forward to that evening when he would dance and sup with Elizabeth. He knew he should be trying to think of an excuse not to dance with her, but he could not bring himself to be that rude. Besides, he wanted to dance with her.

As the evening approached, neighbours who had not been staying at the house arrived to enjoy the dancing, and the ladies descended the stairs in their finery. Darcy saw Lord Carlisle standing, speaking to another gentleman, resplendent in his finery. Darcy wondered if Lady Carlisle had come down with him.

But he saw her finally come down just before the dancing started. She certainly matched her husband in the extravagance of her attire, wearing a ruby red dress with golden lace and dripping with jewels. For the first time he wondered whether the clothing were really her choice. Could it be her husband wanted them to match? She did not seem the kind of person who would dress in such an ornamented style. It seemed outrageous to him, but perhaps Carlisle had chosen her clothes? He could not imagine a husband doing such a thing, but the viscount had sunk so low in Darcy's opinion that he could almost believe it.

He did not approach her, forcing himself to stay away until he had to dance with her. He could see across the room, however, that her smile was forced. She spoke with her friend, Mrs. Landsdowne, and her face took on a more genuine expression of pleasure.

As Darcy led Lady Albright into the first dance, he could not keep his eyes from watching Elizabeth. She was dancing with a sort of stiff lack of grace that surprised him. She was such a graceful creature. He would have thought that she would be a fluid and agile dancer.

He forced his attention back on his partner, trying to keep up the vapid sort of conversation that was usual at balls. God, he hated these sorts of events. Against his will he was looking forward to dancing with Elizabeth. He could at least have an enjoyable conversation with her.

When it came for the supper dance, he went to the side of the ballroom to retrieve Elizabeth. She was standing next to Mrs. Landsdowne, and they were discussing something in a low tone.

"Lady Carlisle?" Darcy asked, putting forth his arm.

With a strained sort of smile, she put her hand on his arm and walked over to join the other dancers. As the dance started, Darcy looked at her face. She appeared sad. Darcy wished he knew what to say. He had dreamed of having one last conversation with her, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. She was also moving very stiffly, as he had noticed before. When they got to the end of the line, the man dancing next to her turned the wrong way, and collided with Elizabeth.

To his shock, Elizabeth let out a cry and bent over at the waist, clutching her side. Ignoring the gentleman's apologies, Darcy led her to the side of the ballroom. He looked around and saw that no one else had noticed, except, apparently, Mrs. Landsdowne, who was approaching them.

"Lady Carlisle? Are you all right? What is the matter?" Darcy asked.

Elizabeth was taking deep breaths, pain etched on her face, still bent over. Sweat was beading on her forehead. Surely this could not all be from the simple collision? The man had hardly touched her.

Elizabeth did not answer him, apparently focusing on breathing.

Just then Mrs. Landsdowne reached them. "Elizabeth, are you well?" she asked.

"I think Lady Carlisle needs to rest," said Darcy.

"Yes, of course. Come with me, Elizabeth," said Mrs. Landsdowne.

Seeming to barely notice her surroundings, Elizabeth took her arm and followed her, Darcy trailing behind them.

Elizabeth looked as if she were in agonizing pain as they ascended the stairs and she walked down the hall to her room. Darcy wondered what in the world was going on.

Elizabeth clenched her teeth to keep from crying out as Rosamond led her to her room. Her ribs felt just the way they had when Vincent had broken them in their second week of marriage. He had been furious last night when he came to her room after the others had retired, and had not stinted his punishment. She had stayed in her room all day trying to recover, but Vincent had insisted she attend the ball – part of her punishment. She also knew it would be inexpressibly rude to Mrs. Landsdowne to miss it. She had danced as well as she could, but the oaf colliding with her had slammed her broken ribs and left her gasping from the pain.

When they had gone into her room and closed the door, Rosamund sat on the side of the bed next to her and took her hand. "You must tell me what is wrong, Elizabeth. You can trust me. You look like you are in severe pain."

Elizabeth had to admit the humiliating truth. "I think my ribs are broken," she whispered.

Rosamond's lips pinched in displeasure. She clearly knew why Elizabeth's ribs were broken. "I will send for a doctor at once."

She got up from the side of the bed but Elizabeth grasped her hand. "Please, no!" she gasped. "Lord Carlisle never allows for a doctor! You must not call one!"

"Elizabeth, I cannot leave you in this state. What if your broken rib punctures a lung? You could die."

"Perhaps it would be better that way," Elizabeth said with a wince as she clutched her side.

Tears came to Rosamond's eyes. "Absolutely not, Elizabeth. Do you hear me? I will make sure Lord Carlisle knows nothing of the doctor. You must trust me to know what is best for you."

Elizabeth nodded reluctantly. "Very well. As long as you keep it a secret."

Rosamond rose from the bed purposefully. Once she had opened Elizabeth's door, she was surprised to see Mr. Darcy pacing outside of it.

"How is she?" he asked, coming toward her.

Mrs. Landsdowne closed the door behind her. "Mr. Darcy! You should not be here!"

"Please, Mrs. Landsdowne. I was dancing with Lady Carlisle when it happened. She collided with another dancer but it should not have caused so much pain as that."

Mrs. Landsdowne sighed. "I cannot speak of it, Mr. Darcy. I have Lady Carlisle's confidence, and I cannot break it. Now, if you will excuse me, I must call for the doctor."

"The doctor! Is it that serious, then?"

"Mr. Darcy, you must return to the ball!"

"Please, Mrs. Landsdowne!" Darcy held his hands out in front of him in a pleading gesture. "I must know if she is all right!"

She sighed again, but her eyes had softened. "I think she will live, Mr. Darcy. But that is up to the doctor to decide."

"What is wrong with her?"

Mrs. Landsdowne hesitated, and then appeared to come to some decision. "Her ribs are broken, Mr. Darcy. That is all I will say. Now, if you will excuse me."

Darcy hardly saw her leave, so consumed was he with the horror within his own mind. Broken ribs? He had not seen Elizabeth all day. And then there had been that scene last night during cards. There could only be one explanation. Her husband had beaten her.

Darcy saw red. All the things that he had observed over the house party made sense. The day after Lord Carlisle had chastised Elizabeth at the ruins, she had not appeared for three days. At the time, he had thought it was because of a female ailment; but Georgiana had never been isolated in her room for three whole days because of her courses. Had Lord Carlisle beaten her again then, and she had had to rest in her room to try to recover?

All at once Darcy's priorities changed. No longer did he think of parting from Elizabeth, never to see her again. No. He loved her. He would not allow this to continue.

But how could he stop it? Elizabeth was legally Lord Carlisle's property, to do with as he liked. As long as he did not kill her, no one would protest. Mrs. Landsdowne obviously knew what was going on, but no one else would speak of it.

At much as he hated to admit it to himself, there was nothing he could do. But he knew that he absolutely could not abandon her. He would follow wherever she went. Had she not mentioned that Lord Carlisle would be taking her to London for the little season this winter? He would come to London then as well. He could introduce Elizabeth to Georgiana, and perhaps the two could become friends. He would watch over Elizabeth as much as he could in his very limited capacity. If he ever had the ability to help her, he would do whatever he could to make her life better, to make her happy.

His anguish overflowed at the same time his love did. What a terrible situation, to be bound to a man for life who not only did not love her, not only mocked her in front of others, not only made her wear what he wished, but who beat her whenever he was displeased. Darcy felt physically ill thinking of his precious Elizabeth in that situation.

With all his heart, he wished to open the door and go in to comfort Elizabeth; but he knew not only how improper it was, but how mortified Elizabeth would be to be seen in such a state. A moment later, a maid approached the door and looked at him curiously. He supposed it must be Elizabeth's lady's maid, come to help her mistress. Darcy longed to ask her something of this, but kept his lips closed. He knew without doubt that her lady's maid would know the circumstances, but he could not ask. He did not want to put the maid in a difficult position. Besides, until Elizabeth confided in him herself, he would be breaking a confidence to ask someone else about it.

The lady's maid went into the room and shut the door behind her. He heard muffled voices from inside but no one emerged.

He paced in front of Elizabeth's room for what seemed like an hour until Mrs. Landsdowne returned with a middle-aged gentleman who was carrying a bag with him. Mrs. Landsdowne did not look surprised to see Darcy there, but merely shook her head, as if in resignation. "Mr. Darcy, this is Dr. Thomas. He is going to take a look at Elizabeth."

Darcy inclined his head to the doctor, and then Mrs. Landsdowne led Dr. Thomas into Elizabeth's room.

Elizabeth was relieved to see the doctor. She had never been allowed a doctor before after previous beatings, and she knew this doctor would at least give her some pain medicine, if he could do nothing else.

Sarah had told her that Mr. Darcy was standing outside her room, pacing. She was mortified while at the same time love filled her heart. He was clearly very concerned about her. He was no longer ignoring her. But that did not change the fact that she and Vincent would leave tomorrow for Campton Manor. She dreaded the bumpy carriage ride that would be coming. Maybe, if the doctor gave her laudanum, she could hide it from Vincent. Sarah would help her.

The physician did not ask how Elizabeth had come by her wounds, although she was sure Rosamond had said something to him. Dr. Thomas decided that her ribs must be strapped, and she could not stop the tears that came to her eyes as he performed the painful procedure. Last time she had not had any care at all, so she should be thankful for this.

As she had hoped, the doctor prescribed her a bottle of laudanum, and she resolved that Sarah would hide it among her things so that Vincent would never know of it. She would only take the medicine before bed when he could not see her state. She knew the laudanum would make her drowsy.

The doctor gave her her first dose, and she found herself drifting off to sleep, dreaming of Mr. Darcy. He was dancing with her, but in this dream she did not belong to Vincent. She was Fitzwilliam's alone.