Mr. Darcy's Daughter (2 page)

Please
accept my apologies for the inconvenience I know this letter will cause you and
my dear sister, but my situation is truly desperate.

I
believe that you alone can convince my dear wife Josie of the need to seek some
form of treatment for the ailment that has afflicted her for several months.

I have tried, without success, on many occasions, to
persuade, plead, and cajole her into seeing one of the physicians here in
Cambridge (and there are one or two who come highly recommended), but she has
refused to do so. She says she is not unwell and has no need of their services.

Richard,
I could wish with all my heart that this were true, but the evidence is clear
enough, though she will not acknowledge it. Josie is clearly not herself and
anyone who knows her will say so, without the aid of any medical experience or
qualification.

She
is out of sorts, dispirited, and has become very weak and thin, due mainly to a
complete lack of interest in food. She, who always had a healthy appetite, has
now to be persuaded to eat as much as a child's portion at meals. Between
times, she will take nothing more nourishing than weak tea or a glass of barley
water.

I
know she has a great deal of respect for you, Richard, and will take your
advice more seriously than she does mine. I truly fear for her life, if nothing
can be done, and swiftly, to arrest the decline in her health and, even more
urgently, her spirits.

Which
is the reason I write, even though I know how busy you are and how anxious for
your father's health you must be, to beg you to come to Cambridge, as soon as
you are able.

It
is no exaggeration to say that you may be able to save my dear Josie's life.

Yours
etc,

Julian
Darcy.

There
was no mistaking the urgency, almost the panic, in Julian's words. A man of
sound scientific discipline, he was not given to gross overstatement.

Plainly,
he was grieved by his inability to do anything useful to help his ailing wife.
Her own recalcitrance, her refusal to take any treatment, indeed to even see a
physician, was obviously causing him much distress and his letter to his
brother-in-law was a last resort, a desperate plea for help.

Cassandra
was pale when she finished reading the letter and handed it back to her
husband.

"Poor
Julian, what a dreadful letter! What must he have suffered, and no doubt
continues to suffer, to have been driven to write such a letter? We must go, of
course, but how shall it be done? With your father's grave condition..."

Her
husband, who had been standing in front of the fire, sat down beside her and
took her hand in his, "My father's condition, though grave, is, at the
moment, stable. I have suggested that Edward stay with him at Lambton, until we
return from Cambridge. He is competent and able to administer such medication
as is required and deal with any emergency," he said.

"Edward?
Are you sure?" Cassy was uncertain; their son was well qualified to be
sure, but he had had little clinical experience.

Richard
was more confident. "My darling, I am quite certain, else I would not have
suggested it. Besides, I have asked Edward and he has agreed. He will follow my
instructions exactly and, in an emergency, send immediately for Dr Forrester. I
have also explained the situation to my mother, and she knows we must go to
Josie and Julian. They need our help."

He
stood up, keeping hold of her hands, which were cold with anxiety, and drew her
into his arms to comfort her.

"I
have already despatched a message to Julian by telegraph, so all there is left
to do is to make the necessary arrangements for our journey," he said,
holding her close, understanding her concern, and trying to reassure her.

Her
anxiety somewhat eased, Cassandra asked quietly, "Should Lizzie go with
us? She has always got on very well with Josie. It may help."

Her
husband was cautious. "I would rather she did not, until I have ascertained
what it is that afflicts Josie. If, as I believe, it is a non-contagious
condition, a temporary malaise brought on more by her forlorn spirit than an
infectious bacterium, it would be safe for Lizzie to visit her, perhaps later
in the month," he explained patiently.

"It
may help cheer her up. However, until we are certain there is no danger of
infection, I do not think Lizzie should go."

Cassy
agreed at once. It had not occurred to her that her daughter may be exposed to
infection by visiting Josie. Reminded of the possibility, she was content to be
ruled by her husband on the matter. Lizzie would remain at home. Cassy was glad
her younger daughter Laura Ann was away for a few weeks, visiting her cousin
Sophie in Leicestershire.

Preparations
were hurriedly and methodically made and, on the morrow, which turned out to be
a cold, blustery sort of day, of the kind one had learned to expect in Spring,
they set out for Cambridge. But first, they were to go to Pemberley to acquaint
Mr. and Mrs. Darcy with the reason for their journey.

*

Arriving
at Pemberley, they found the Darcys and Bingleys discussing the calamitous
affair of the Sutton children, who had been abducted by their own father. Mrs.
Sutton, though unknown personally to the Gardiners, was a friend of Anne-Marie
Bingley. They knew that she had recently moved to Hertfordshire and taught
music at the School for Young Ladies at Longbourn, which was run by Charlotte
Collins and Anna Bingley, wife of their cousin Jonathan.

They
now learned that Mrs. Sutton's estranged husband had followed his wife to
Hertfordshire and kidnapped her daughters. Neither Cassy nor Richard knew very
much of the detail, but it was clearly a serious matter, and Mr. Darcy had just
despatched a letter to Jonathan Bingley containing vital information received
about the whereabouts of the children.

When,
in the midst of all this excitement, Cassandra broke the news of Julian's
letter, Elizabeth could barely contain her distress. She had already confided
in her sister Jane her immense disappointment over Julian's apparent lack of
interest in the activities and traditions of Pemberley. The latest news about
Josie made matters much worse!

She
made Cassy promise to write and inform her of Josie's condition.

"If
there is anything your father or I can do to help, you know we will not
hesitate..." she pleaded.

It
was clear to Elizabeth that it would be of no use to offer to accompany them.
Despite her best efforts, and it was generally acknowledged that she had tried
very hard, Elizabeth and her daughter-in-law had never been intimate.

Indeed,
they never exchanged confidences at all. It was a matter of great regret to her
that, unlike Richard Gardiner, whose regard and affection for her and Mr. Darcy
had always been a source of great happiness to them, their son's wife had never
appeared to be entirely comfortable at Pemberley.

"Josie
always seems as though she is only visiting and about to leave at any
moment," she had once said to Cassy.

Trying
to reassure her mother, Cassy had responded by saying that Josie was still
young and somewhat in awe of the grandeur of Pemberley.

"I
doubt she has considered seriously the fact that one day, and we pray it will
be in the very distant future, she will be the Mistress of Pemberley,"
Cassy had explained.

Once
again, Elizabeth had said, "If only they would settle here and make
Pemberley their home, there would be so much to occupy her, so much to
learn," but her daughter had wisely advised that this was probably not the
appropriate moment to suggest such a move, sensible though it may seem.

Cassy
knew also the extent of her father's disappointment that Julian did not appear
committed to the estate, content to leave much of the work and all of the
decisions to Mr. Darcy and his manager. It was, she knew, a source of great
sadness to him for he loved Pemberley and had hoped his son would feel the
same. For a few years it had looked as if he would, but since moving to
Cambridge and becoming absorbed in his research, Julian seemed to have lost
interest in Pemberley. Besides, he was rapidly gaining a reputation in Europe
and winning praise from his colleagues at Cambridge for his work--and clearly
that came first.

Cassy
was not unaware also that Josie, whose dearest wish was to have her work
published in London or Cambridge, had been bitterly disappointed when her
manuscript was rejected by several publishers. Her frustration at being so
unappreciated was clearly taking its toll upon her young mind.

Cassandra
felt deeply for her mother and father and shared their regret, but she was
equally understanding of her unhappy sister-in-law and brother. It was easy,
she knew, to be censorious but far more difficult to comprehend, and her
husband, wise and compassionate, agreed.

"We
cannot know the root of their problems, Cassy. Frequently, medical conditions
are a reflection of mental and emotional debilitation, and one is hard put to
diagnose the ailment without all the facts, especially if the patient is
unlikely to be candid about his or her situation," he had said, as they
had set out that morning.

Cassy
knew he was right and when her aunt Jane Bingley, whose blissful marriage
seemed to be based entirely upon domestic felicity and good fortune, suggested
that perhaps Julian and Josie should have another child, Cassy was quite firm
in her assertion that it would not resolve their problems.

"Josie
is finding it difficult to cope with young Anthony; he is a lively child,
bright and eager to learn, and she has her hands full keeping up with him. I
doubt that another child will help in the circumstances."

Begging
her mother and aunt not to speak too openly of these matters, lest the
servants' gossip be relayed to the Tates at Matlock and cause offence, and
urging them to remember that Richard, as a medical practitioner, treated all
such information in strict confidence, Cassy rose, embraced her mother and
aunt, and said her good-byes.

Her
father and husband had come into the room and, from Mr. Darcy's countenance, it
was plain that Richard had told him something of Julian's predicament. Darcy
looked grave and concerned as he bade them farewell and watched them drive
away. In the warmth of his parting from her, Cassy felt the depth of his
concern, yet he said little--unwilling, no doubt, to heighten her mother's
already considerable fears.

Standing
beside her husband, Elizabeth could scarcely hold back her tears.

Conscious
of her distress, he tried to console her, without success. Elizabeth, having
suffered the loss of one son in a dreadful riding accident, was wondering what
new tribulation awaited her with Julian.

*

Dinner
at Pemberley was a solemn meal and no one, not even Bingley, asked for music,
cards, or any other light diversion afterwards. The continuing rain added to the
general lack of enthusiasm. Darcy decided to read by the fire and, while Jane
and Elizabeth talked in whispers about the troubling news Cassy had brought,
Bingley, who knew nothing of it, fell fast asleep. Everyone had been anxious
for news of the kidnapped Sutton children and talked of the plight of their
hapless mother. Jane could not imagine the anguish of the poor woman and prayed
her children may soon be restored to her, but no one spoke openly of Julian and
Josie.

When
they retired, earlier than usual, to their rooms, Elizabeth's disquiet was
obvious to her husband. As they had been speaking at dinner of the Sutton
children, he, believing she was still concerned about them, revealed that he
had taken some action on that score.

"I
have despatched a letter to Jonathan with sufficient information received from
my man Hobbs to enable them, with the help of the police, to discover the
children and restore them to their mother. There is no need to worry any
more,"

he
said, but when Elizabeth, who had been gazing out of the window at the rain,
turned to face him, he was astonished to see tears in her eyes.

"Why,
Lizzie, my dear," he began, but she interrupted him, "Darcy, it is
not
for Mrs. Sutton's children that I fear, though God knows they need our prayers;
it is for Julian. Have you not understood that Josie is seriously ill? Poor
Julian must have been desperate to have written as he has done to Richard,
begging him to come at once."

Darcy
indicated that he had heard that Josie was unwell and had assumed that since
Richard was the best physician they knew, Julian had requested his attendance.

Believing
that her husband knew very little of the substance of the problem, for no doubt
Richard Gardiner had been discreet, Elizabeth sat beside him on the bed and
told him everything Cassy had revealed.

"Neither
Richard nor Cassy has any knowledge of her ailment. Richard has decided to go
at once, despite the fact that our Uncle Gardiner is gravely ill, because
Julian has declared in his letter that Josie will see no other physician.

He
says she has been ill for several weeks," she explained.