Page 16 of Unwillingly Mrs. Darcy
Elizabeth’s eyebrows arched. “The town surgeon has already used leeches once, and it did not work. Is there nothing more that can be done?”
“Treatments such as bloodletting or leeches can be repeated with some regularity. There are additional measures,” Mr Eversham continued. “The application of mustard plasters and warm poultices to the limbs may encourage circulation. Friction rubs with stimulating oils, such as rosemary or camphor, have been used to restore sensation and movement in affected limbs. Gentle manipulation of the muscles may, in time, provide some benefit.”
Jane’s expression remained steady. “Is there any hope that he might regain the ability to walk?”
“It is difficult to say,” Mr Eversham admitted. “Some patients do regain partial mobility if attended with care and perseverance. The key is to maintain warmth, avoid idleness of the limbs, and ensure that he is not left to languish in bed too long, lest his strength waste away.”
Mrs Bennet moaned, throwing her hands up in despair. “Mustard plasters, leeches, bloodletting, rubbing the limbs—such barbarity! Elizabeth, Jane, I cannot bear it!”
Mr Eversham allowed himself a small smile. “I assure you, Mrs Bennet, these are the most trusted treatments of our time.”
“What of galvanism? I have heard about it, is it effective?” Jane asked.
“Galvanism?” Elizabeth’s tone sharpened, though curiosity gleamed in her eyes.
“Galvanism is a most novel and ingenious treatment, though its efficacy remains uncertain,” the physician said. “Galvani pioneered the practice in animals and a fellow Italian named Volta is experimenting with it. I do not advise it. Hardly any physician practices it.”
“Pray, what is it?” Mrs Bennet asked. “We can leave no stone unturned.”
“Mrs Bennet, I must advise against it. In essence, it is the application of a mild electrical current to the affected muscles has been trialled in some cases. The theory is that it may restore function to the limbs.”
Mrs Bennet paled as if it had not been her who’d demanded the treatment’s details. “Shocking my poor husband? Oh, I will not hear of it!”
Elizabeth ignored her mother’s protests and turned back to Mr Eversham. “And has this method seen success?”
“There are accounts of minor improvements, though not in all cases,” he admitted. “It remains an uncertain treatment. The best success has been seen when physicians and nurses have been on hand regularly. One of the Prince Regent’s cousins had a case in the family and the Prince Regent paid forsuch treatments, and around the clock care. The relation fully recovered, or almost. But the chap may have recovered without treatment, there is no way of knowing.”
At what cost? Elizabeth wondered. They did not have the purse the Prince Regent did, after all.
Jane took her mother’s hand, her quiet resolve steadying them both. “We will consider all options carefully. Would you be willing to write down an estimate of what it might cost to get the very best treatment, as well as other options?”
Mr Eversham rose, inclining his head solemnly. “I shall leave you to your deliberations. Should you wish to proceed with any of these treatments, please send word. I will return on the morrow to discuss the best path forward and am happy to make referrals to any practitioner you wish.”
As he departed, Elizabeth turned to her sister, her expression both weary and resolute. “Jane, these treatments may not promise certainty, but we owe it to Papa to explore every possibility.”
Jane nodded. “Yes, Lizzy. Whatever it takes, we must do what we can.”
Elizabeth appeared ready to respond when a burst of voices from outside drew her attention. Rising, she moved towards the window and glanced out.
“It seems Mr Collins is being quite thoroughly detained,” Elizabeth remarked, observing her cousin with her younger sisters. She caught fragments of conversation and watched as Mr Collins crossed his arms and shook his head in Lydia’s direction.
Mrs Bennet paused her lamentations. “What’s that, Lizzy? Who is Mr Collins speaking to?”
“Mary, Kitty, and Lydia,” Elizabeth replied, peering through the curtain. “Lydia appears to be pleading her case to attend yet another ball. Mr Collins, in turn, does not seem agreeable.”
Through the slightly open window, Lydia’s voice rang clear. “Mr Collins, you are not our father! It is simply unreasonable! Why, any young lady of sense would know the importance of such engagements!”
Mr Collins’s reply was equally distinct. “My dear cousin, your father’s absence does not mean I will condone unseemly conduct…”
Mary’s calm voice interjected, “Lydia, please, this insistence on frivolities is unbecoming.”
Kitty’s stammering voice added, “Oh, but Mr Collins, do consider how splendid it would be and such a distraction…”
Another exasperated exclamation from Lydia was enough to draw Elizabeth back from the window, shaking her head with a smirk.
“It appears, Mama, that Mr Collins is quite determined to impose his moral authority, despite Lydia’s best efforts to defy it. She has, unsurprisingly, informed him he is not her father.”
Mrs Bennet’s despair surged anew. “Oh, that girl will be the ruin of us all!” she wailed. “She will turn him against us, and then we will all be without house or home, put out on the streets. My nerves, Lizzy! Jane! My nerves!”
