Page 64 of Miss Bennet's Dragon
I think Jane loved Bingley when she was treated. Because she has not married and bound, the disease has begun.
Lizzy, I am frightened for her. Your return would be welcome. Jane’s physical illness seems minor, but her mental symptoms progress.
Mary Bennet.
P.S. Today I consulted with Mr. Jones. He suggested leeching. I doubted the efficacy of this treatment for a mental disturbance, so I requested he demonstrate on myself. Leeching had no discernable effect upon my mind other than disgust. As he could provide no logical reason for leeching when women naturally lose blood every month, I have rejected this treatment for Jane. From this, I have also decided that establishing female physicians would be beneficial. Homo sum: humani nihil a me alienum puto.”
I fumbled back through Jane’s letters. There were three, all describing balls and dancing and dresses. But Mary said Jane had not left the house, and Mary was exact in her statements.
Read again, the letters were eerily vague. Unfamiliar names mentioned like intimate friends. No places. No dates. Because I had believed them, they were even more frightening.
Mary thought the illness wastorn byndingorbinding sickness. That was the same illness Mr. Darcy had attempted to treat in an afflicted wyfe. Although I did not wish to speak with him, I appeared to have little choice. But Colonel Fitzwilliam might know as much. I would see whom I found first.
The colonel was wandering in one of the clearings I haunted. He hailed me when I approached.
“Miss Bennet,” he said with an unusually serious bow.
I curtsied with equal formality. “Colonel Fitzwilliam. I have beenthinking of our discussion of binding sickness. Can you tell me what treatment you attempted?”
This topic was unexpected. The colonel tugged at his collars before replying. “I hesitate to call it treatment. Darcy was convinced restoring a binding would help, but we found no means to achieve this. He may know more…” His voice trailed off before resuming awkwardly. “I saw him go after you last night.”
Last evening’s argument returned with all its violent emotion. “Do not speak to me of Mr. Darcy,” I said heatedly.
The colonel seemed to approve. He relaxed and gestured to our usual path. We began walking.
“I understand your dismay,” he said. “I partake of Rosings’s hospitality with unease myself. It was Darcy that convinced me to attend. You must not be too hard on him. He did not assume control of Pemberley until his father died. Father and son loved each other dearly, but they disagreed over policy. I imagine Darcy has divested Pemberley of investments benefiting from slavery. At least, as much as is practical. He is astute in business.”
“This sounds greatly like speaking of Mr. Darcy,” I said tightly.
“Then I shall apologize for myself. I saw your shock at dinner. I should have exposed Rosings’s reprehensible underpinning to you. It would have saved you embarrassment.”
“That was not your responsibility.” It was Mr. Darcy’s. I stopped walking. “Why did Mr. Darcy ask you to Rosings?”
“So, wearespeaking of Darcy?”
I hmphed but nodded.
“You know I am involved with the military’s effort to utilize draca,” the colonel said. “Darcy advises that. Or criticizes it. When he called on his aunt for a business matter, I came up from Brighton to discuss the project. Then Darcy lingered, and… I chose to stay. My visit has been unexpectedly enjoyable.” The colonel gave me a gallant half-bow, and I smiled to acknowledge the compliment. He held the bow, serious. I looked down, a little flustered, and we resumed walking.
The colonel did not speak for a time. When he did, it was with a chuckle to indicate a lighter subject. “Darcy did convince a friend to divest his investments from the colonies. I met him. A friendly, good-natured fellow.”
I matched his humorous tone. “Was he rescued by the Darcy talent for business?”
“In more ways than one. Darcy also saved the fellow—Bingley was his name—from an unfortunate marriage.”
Propriety required I speak. All I had to say was that I knew Mr. Bingley. But my heart had stopped. Words would not come. Part of me leaped to a horrid conclusion, while another part could not believe it.
Into my silence, the colonel continued, “The astounding thing was Darcy had to overcome both Bingley’s feelings and those of his sisters. Bingley’s married sister liked the girl, and Bingley was so passionate that his other sister was wavering. But for Darcy, the challenge was spice. He recruited Caroline, and together they convinced Bingley.”
That was so ironic a reversal of my blame for Mr. Bingley’s departure that it cut home as the absolute truth.
I no longer cared for propriety. “Why did Mr. Darcy oppose the marriage?” The words emerged thin and uninflected.
“Apparently the girl was pleasant enough, but a puppet of her mother’s scheme to acquire Bingley’s marriage gold. And the father was a scoundrel. Darcy described a cruel scene at a ball. Darcy is devoted to his sister. He was repulsed to see a father mock his own daughter.”
“I must go.” Every ounce of my will was consumed to keep my voice from shaking.
“Already? I had hoped… but, of course. May I accompany your return?”
