“These methods are to help Miss Woodhouse’s personal wellbeing,” Mr. Darcy said. “They are not arcane, and they have no relation to her healing ability as a great wyfe.”
“They will not help with Nessy?” I said.
“No.” Reluctantly, he added, “My mother treated several consumptives. She was unsuccessful.”
That settled like a stone in my belly, but I nodded.
Mr. Darcy began rather formally. “You will recall that my mother struggled with a compulsion for order and symmetry. It was worsened by any perception of illness. She was aware of her condition and discussed it frankly with me, and we experimented with mental techniques to manage the debilitating effects. We were successful, in part.”
Mr. Darcy’s gloved hand was clenched on the stone table. Georgiana had said he was uncomfortable discussing his mother.
“What does ‘in part’ mean?” I asked.
“While she remained bound, her episodes became rare and manageable. But after my father died, her binding broke, and her wyvern left. Then…” His throat worked. “Our techniques were then insufficient.”
Already, there was convergence with the vision Georgiana summoned through those huge windows. “Lady Anne’s wyvern did not leave. Lady Anne sent him away.”
Mr. Darcy’s clenched hand twitched. He lifted it to knead the back of his neck. “Elizabeth told you this?”
“No. Georgiana showed me a vision this morning. I saw Lady Anne’s wyvern, and he spoke to me.”
“There arevisionsnow?” Mr. Knightley exclaimed. “Are you certain this is the right path?”
I frowned. “I do what I like. Why are you so disagreeable?”
“I dislike being avoided,” he said pointedly. “I sought you all last evening.”
Why did everyone accuse me of hiding? “You announced you were traveling to your death. I assumed you were packing.”
That silenced Mr. Knightley, but Mr. Darcy had his own pent-up exclamation. “My mother’s wyvern left years ago. Hespoketo you?”
“Of course,” I said crossly. “He is waiting for me with memories of Lady Anne. I imagine it is a message. At the ball, Lady Catherine’s wyvern spoke of a messenger to the north. But wyverns are terribly vague.”
Now the whole table was silenced. Their stupefied expressions were much better than being scolded for hiding and meddling. I crossed my wrists on the table edge and added, “So? What is this technique?”
Seconds passed before Mr. Darcy spoke. “I have never known what to make of Georgiana’s vision. Your insight is crucial. Elizabeth should hear also, but she is visiting Mr. Digweed and the Pemberley Britons. She should have returned by now…” He trailed off uneasily.
“Then we may as well discuss your technique,” I pointed out. All this delay was making me curious.
“True.” He set his shoulders. “Let us compare your symptoms to my mother’s. The core of Lady Anne’s illness was attacks of crippling fear. She became certain that severe illness was about to strike. She believed she could prevent that only through perfection in the clothing and appearance of herself and those around her. Quickly, those compulsions grew and became an illness in themselves.”
I had blanched at the exactness of his description. Harriet reached across the table to take my hand, and I gave her a squeeze, remorseful for being cross before.
“That is what I feel,” I answered, trying to match his factual manner.
“Yet the threat of illness is always to others, not yourself.”
“Yes!” But he had not mentioned one thing. “Did she see the miasma?Seethe false illness strike those around her? Like a dream that is impossible but cannot be disbelieved?”
He answered slowly, “Much later, when she was no longer bound, my mother’s fears manifested as visible illusions.”
“I am unbound. If this method fails when one is not bound, what good is it?”
“It did help her, even then. It was simply… insufficient.”
Harriet asked suspiciously, “What happened to Lady Anne?”
Instead of answering, Mr. Darcy resumed his teaching tone. “My motherexperienced her first attacks in her eighteenth year, before she married. She tried to battle them with logic. She told herself that the illnesses she feared would not occur, so her fear was irrational.”
