He stared at her, “I know that, madam. I could tell.”
“Oh.” she blushed and then continued, “Then I do not understand why you feel the need to apologise.”
Only Darcy could find a way to turn a heartfelt apology into an argument. He spoke through gritted teeth. “It is the principle of the matter. Did I hurt you?”
The sudden question made Elizabeth flinch. She reached for her glass of water and gulped a few mouthfuls down before she could think of an answer.
“I told you, sir, you need not concern yourself with…”
“I am afraid that I must.” he replied stiffly, “I must be held accountable for everything that happened. I cannot placate myself by saying that the man who took your innocence was too drunk to know any better. It was I who failed to control myself.”
“Very well.” Elizabeth raised her chin, breaking into his monologue and surprising even herself, “Then I must apologise toyou,Mr. Darcy. I was just as drunk as you. I enjoyed it, and you said yourself that you could tell. Should I pretend I hated it, so that you can wallow in pointless guilt?”
Darcy glared at her but found no reply. Elizabeth spoke again, and her voice grew weaker.
“You said you loved me. Do you regret that too, sir? It meant so much to me.Youmean so much to me.”
“Of course I love you!” he exploded, “Good God, Elizabeth, how can you doubt it?”
“Oh.” she whispered, staring down at her toes. She could not draw a full breath, and her heart pounded, but hopeless confusion made her stomach hurt, “You just don’t want me as your wife.”
The notion was so breathtakingly abhorrent that Darcy could find no answer. He had no idea that Elizabeth’s perception of him was so wretched until she said that. He could see the raw honesty in her eyes, blunt and aware, as if she was simply reciting a fact.
Before he could find his voice, Elizabeth stood, brushing down her skirt and not bothering to disguise her hurt.
“I shall go and see Georgiana. That is why you married me, after all. I am sorry that the thought of anything else is so abhorrent to you.”
“Elizabeth, wait…” Darcy finally found his tongue, then winced and tried again: “I did not say it was abhorrent. It was… Elizabeth, I admit that I wanted it to happen, but the manner in which I wanted to have you…”
“Have me?”
“I have a headache, and you are not being easy. Forgive me a few words, at least.” he growled, looking impatient. “I do not want you to leave me feeling like it was a mistake. It was notwhathappened that disgusts me, buthowit happened.”
“There is no need to explain, Mr. Darcy.” she cut across him once more, shaking her head. “You married me a sister, not a husband. You have no reason to overthink what was clearly a drunken mistake for both of us.”
She curtseyed formally, kept her eyes lowered, and left. It was the only way to hide the tears in her eyes.
Chapter 30
Doctor Slant knew enough about the events in Pemberley to feel nervous as his carriage slowed to a stop. Not only was he appalled by the treatment of poor Miss Darcy, he was concerned about how her abuse would have affected her brother. The doctor had cared for both siblings from their births and knew everything about them.
He had been called the very hour that Miss Darcy was discovered - indeed, had heard her last few whispered words before she passed out. He had not managed to expel enough of the poison to prevent that, although he did make her vomit enough to save her life. As for the deep scratches on her body, they would heal in time.
In the long, sleepless hours when he had turned Miss Darcy away from death’s door, he had seen the hope draining from her brother’s face, like colour fading from his very soul. Darcy was a steadfast, well-respected gentleman. He had been young when his father died, but his meticulous expectations and strict self-control made the local farmers respect him immensely. In a night, Doctor Slant watched all of that bleed away.
He could not say anything to stop Darcy from drinking. How could he prevent it? By the time Georgiana was past the worst, her brother was a slave to oblivion.
Miss Darcy’s physical health was treatable; her emotional health was not. Having little experience of such matters and fearing to make a mistake, Slant had deferred to Doctor Acon, a respected colleague in London, for advice. Acon had given him a few suggestions, many of which were only used in certain institutions, such as keeping the patient restrained and in darkness, so as not to overtax the senses.
Slant had considered his advice rather dubiously, fearing that the treatment of such poor souls was unnecessarily harsh, especially for a gently raised young lady. A much kinder approach was devised for Miss Darcy, but then Slant had another problem. Miss Darcy required constant care, and her routine had to be strictly followed. He needed to find someone who was willing to live in darkness and silence, nursing a young woman who might never recover.
Doctor Acon had a solution for that, as well. Drawing on his connections, he suggested Miss Crocker as a perfect candidate. She interviewed well, was strong and stubborn, and came with the consultant’s approval.
Look where his approval had brought them!
As he was shown into the house, Slant berated himself once more for all that had occurred. That, however, was where his melancholy stopped. Unlike many, he was a man who sought out solutions to his troubles. ‘Wallowing’, as he called it, was a waste of time and energy. He was furious, of course, but he did not dwell on the cause. He thought about the future. What could be done for Georgiana after this?
Darcy’s face was thunderous when the doctor walked into his study. Not one to be intimidated, Slant ignored the glare out of habit. He glanced around the room as was amazed to see that the drinks cabinet was empty. The only beverage in the room was a tray with a water jug and some glasses.
