The Knights of Derbyshire

by Marsha Altman

  “Mama.”

  “And you got rid of all of the governesses – some of them by sheer strokes of brilliance – even though you didn’t truly hate your lessons. Except pianoforte.”

  “Except pianoforte,” Georgie agreed, tightening her grip on her mother’s hand as Jane’s voice trembled.

  “I discussed it with your father, but it was my responsibility. You were my daughter and my mother raised me, so I was responsible for you, and I tried everything, and I never knew if I was doing too much or too little, to mold you into…something. Now I don’t even know what that something is.” She looked up at her daughter through watery eyes. “All I know is that my daughter somehow saved the life of her cousin, her father, and two of her uncles by the most extraordinary means possible. Why was I so afraid to be proud of that?”

  Georgie had no response. She looked stunned, but Jane could barely look at her, so ashamed. “My nerves,” Jane said. “Oh dear, I’m turning into my mother.”

  “As long as you don’t start making me go to balls, and interfering on my behalf to a ridiculous extent to make me a fortuitous match – ”

  “Oh, I hardly doubt that – ” But then she realized Georgie was joking. Georgiana Bingley was smiling, and she was joking. She could hardly sit up with the wound on her side, but somehow she managed to embrace her mother, with a lot of maneuvering on Jane’s end. “My baby girl.”

  “Someday, some hardy dismissed soldiers will be telling legends about your baby girl,” Georgie said. “Only they won’t know it was her.”

  “No,” Jane said, “but I’ll be proud anyway.”

  Chapter 22 – Blessed Equilibrium

  Despite having restored balance in the family, and all from his sickbed, Geoffrey Darcy could not restore his own.

  Leaving aside his lack of hearing, the major thing that stood between him and returning to some semblance of normal life was his inability to stand, or even sit up for very long. Most his body was strong enough to be up and about, and sitting in bed all day because of his head was frustrating to him. Unfortunately, Dr. Fergus was the best ear doctor in Britain (by Dr. Maddox’s very high standards) and all he could recommend was time.

  “His inner ear needs to settle,” he said to the Darcys, “like the inflammation in the canal. We waited and it went down.”

  “How long do we have to wait?” Darcy demanded.

  But Dr. Fergus could not give him a solid answer. Neither could Dr. Maddox. And none of this, when explained to Geoffrey, made the boy very happy. What did put a smile on his face was seeing his Uncle Brian, even if he couldn’t hear what he said.

  “There’s my boy,” Brian said as he entered with Bingley. “The big hero. How is he today?”

  “Not happy,” Darcy said, intentionally facing away from Geoffrey. “The blasted doctor can’t do anything for his inner ear.”

  “I did not know we had one,” Bingley said. “Why would you need an ear inside you?”

  “Apparently, for balance.”

  “If we were in China,” Brian said, “we could try acupuncture. I’m sure he would love that.”

  “It did work,” Bingley said. “It worked very well. Just a bit unnerving.”

  “What is this?” Darcy said.

  “Chinese medicine. They put little needles on your skin – just piercing the upper layer. It’s supposed to affect energy lines, some Oriental superstition,” Brian answered. “There’s – I believe there’s a man who does it in Brighton. He’s Indian, but he knows the therapy. Not very popular, though. People can’t get past looking like a porcupine.”

  “But it did work,” Bingley repeated. “It worked in Hong Kong.”

  Darcy paused for only a second before saying, “Can you get him?”

  “Will you at least try to let me in on the conversation?” Geoffrey shouted.

  Startled, Darcy held up the, I’m sorry card.

  Brian sat down and wrote out, We are considering a Chinese treatment.

  “Why am I not surprised?” Geoffrey said. “Georgie’s always going on about some abstract theory about perfect balance. I never understood it.”

  That gave the gentlemen good reason to pause. Brian quickly wrote, Did Mugin tell her about it?

  “Yes. He told her if she mastered it, no one would ever be able to defeat her.” He swallowed. “I probably shouldn’t be saying this, should I? Since that’s the cause of all this?”

  Darcy shook his head. “No, you should.” It hadn’t been true a day ago, but it was true now.

  “Well, you didn’t hear it from me. I didn’t even think to ask her – I always thought it was nonsense, to be honest.”

  Darcy took the pen from Brian’s hands and wrote, I would rather consider talking to my niece before allowing an Indian put needles in your head.

  “WHAT?” Geoffrey said, this time really shouting, now that he’d heard the details of this Chinese treatment they’d mentioned.

  *****************************************

  “Slowly, slowly...”

  “If I go any slower, I won’t be moving at all,” Georgie protested as she took a few steps across the room, her mother holding her arm in case she lost her strength. Dr. Maddox watched her carefully. She was clearly strong enough to move around, but she kept one hand pressed on her side.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked very patiently.

  “It is a little uncomfortable,” Georgie said. “Nothing more.”

  “Like lying on a hard pillow, or is it sharp?”

  “Sharp,” she admitted. “But not all the time. Just when I move in certain ways.” She let her mother guide her back to her bed. “I’m all right.”

  Jane looked up at the doctor, who nodded encouragingly. “The muscles on the side of your chest were bruised and torn. It is very important not to irritate them as they heal. With that said, I will sanction moving about a bit more. But no stairs.” He was going to say more encouraging things about her progress, which was proceeding as expected, but there was a knock on the door.

  “Come,” Georgie said as she sat back down.

  The servant entered and announced, “Her Highness, Princess Nadezhda to see you, Miss Bingley. Mrs. Bingley.”

  “Tell her to come,” Jane said, and Dr. Maddox excused himself as the princess entered, curtseying quickly to him and then to the occupants.

  “Mrs. Bingley. Miss Bingley,” Nadezhda said, her hands behind her back.

  “Your Highness,” Jane said.

  “Nadi-sama,” Georgie said. “I’m so glad to see you. Mama, I’m sorry – ”

  “You do not have to be sorry,” Nadezhda said. “I have to be sorry.” She bowed to Jane. “I should not have concealed anything from you, Mrs. Bingley.”

  Between Nadezhda’s royal pride and Jane’s motherly defensiveness, it still made for an awkward moment, and they did not rush to embrace, but Jane did respond, “You make her happy when I cannot.”

  “Mama – ”

  “There’s no need to deny it,” Jane said. “I cannot imagine myself fighting, or even my husband. His own career is notoriously bad. And if that’s what she wants...” Jane reached out and stroked her daughter’s hair. “Even when you were a little baby, you were a handful. And considering all the good it’s done, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Nadezhda held up what she had been hiding behind her back – Georgiana’s geta shoes, still in reasonable condition despite the wear they had seen over the years.

  “My sandals!” Georgie squealed with delight. “Where did you find them?”

  “Because of the metal, they sunk,” she said. “Brian is a very good swimmer. Or he was, because I made him.”

  Jane had seen them before. Georgiana never wore them in proper social situations, but she wore them when she was out ‘walking’ or playing. “They were a gift from Mugin, I always assumed.”

  “He left them for me,” Georgie said. “They were too big for me until a few years ago. Mama, please – ”

  “Of course.
They’re yours,” Jane said, and Nadezhda set the shoes down by the bed. They were still quite dirty.

  “They’re very hard to walk in,” Nadezhda said. “Let alone run. I certainly cannot.”

  “Then who taught you?” Jane asked her daughter.

  “She taught herself,” Nadezhda said. “Your daughter has extremely good coordination.”

  “As long as she doesn’t join the circus – ”

  “Mama!” Georgie tugged on her mother’s gown, only to look up and see her mother smiling.

  *****************************************

  “Do you remember when we used to spin around so much, and got so dizzy, that we felt like we were still spinning when we’d stopped? It’s like that.”

  Monkey was the first to respond, squealing and waving his tiny hands in Geoffrey’s direction as Georgie held him in her lap. “Not now, Monkey.”

  “Georgie, you have to help me. They’re going to get an Indian man from Brighton to put needles in my head.”

  Georgie looked over at her Aunt Darcy, who just shrugged. “I don’t know precisely what I should do.”

  “Anything would suffice,” Elizabeth replied.

  She thought, and then requested paper, whereupon she wrote a long list of instructions, which took her some time, as Monkey tried to interrupt from his new place on Geoffrey’s lap. Finally she passed it to him. “Do you think this will work?”

  “I have no idea, Geoffrey.”

  He seemed to understand that. “I don’t want needles in my head.”

  “Coward,” Georgie said good-humoredly, and turned to Reynolds. “Sit him up.”

  “You are aware, Miss Bingley, that this tends to – ”

  “ – make him ill, yes.” She whispered out of her aunt’s hearing, “I’ve seen him throw up before, thank you very much.”

  Reynolds had to hide his blush from Mrs. Darcy as he helped Geoffrey sit up with his legs over the side of the bed. Geoffrey looked ready to topple, but Georgie grabbed his arm. “Geoffrey,” she said. “What did I tell you? You’re supposed to breathe.” If he couldn’t hear her, he could at least feel her. “What did I say? Five seconds.” She held up her fingers, and counted down with them as he breathed in, so he could watch the fingers. “Five, four, three, two, one – now hold it. Five, four –,”

  Geoffrey swallowed ominously but was not sick. He sat across from her, clearly trying to focus on her hand and those fingers going up and down, as he was supposed to breathe in, hold it, and breathe out on a timer. She pulled away her other hand and he grabbed. “Don’t,” he said, his voice distant. He put her other hand back on his shoulder where it had been. “I – don’t leave me.” He closed his eyes.

  “Five,” interrupted Reynolds finally. “It has been five minutes.”

  It was obvious Geoffrey could no longer continue the exercise. He was so exhausted that he said nothing as Reynolds carefully set him back down, and lay halfway on his side, gazing at the little end table with the writing implements.

  “It is a record,” Elizabeth said, and kissed her son on the head. “Five minutes. You did so well.”

  Clearly, Geoffrey felt otherwise, but it was a triumph nonetheless.

  *****************************************

  “He’s pushing himself too hard,” Darcy said to his wife after Geoffrey endured three brutal days of Georgie’s breathing exercises. He was now able to sit up for nearly an hour, or until something set him off and he lost his concentration, whichever came first. But when he tried to stand, he fell and nearly banged his knee. He had not given warning that he was going to attempt this, and it was Georgie, of all people, who caught him before Mr. Reynolds or Dr. Maddox could step in.

  “You scared him with the threat of the Indian doctor,” Elizabeth said, trying to lighten her husband’s mood. It was very hard to keep it afloat, even with Geoffrey so clearly progressing, because the boy’s hearing had not returned. It was not as bad as a death knell – he could live a full life if he learned to read lips proficiently, and he had never been much for musical performances, but they both wanted their son to regain complete health. “There is still reason to hope. If Dr. Maddox and Dr. Fergus have not given up hope, then we certainly should not.”

  “Their patient is our only son. It is their responsibility to coddle us.”

  “That is nonsense and you know it,” Elizabeth said. It actually wasn’t – though she did trust Dr. Maddox to tell the truth, it would be understandable if he were just hoping for the best about something he could not change. She didn’t like Darcy’s words, and the way he said them, and she made that clear in her tone. She had dealt with his obsessive terror when their son was missing and it had been reasonable. For him to go into one of his strange moods again now would be nothing short of disaster. “Dr. Maddox was honest to you about Geoffrey’s condition from the start. He has always been perfectly honest to you. You are being unreasonably suspicious that the worst will happen.”

  This gave Darcy pause. In fact, he stopped entirely, gazing out the window of their sitting room. “You know me so well.”

  “I would hope so, sir.”

  He gave one of his little smiles and sat down next to her so she could lean on his shoulder and have a moment’s peace. They did have many demands on their time and energy beyond Geoffrey’s condition, some of them everyday estate business, and some of them still concerning the family. Good relations had been uneasily restored, and Georgie seemed on her best behavior for the moment. What passed between her and her parents, neither of the Darcys dared to question. All they knew was that at least a temporary understanding had been reached. It was one of the situations that they hoped would not be temporary.

  *****************************************

  In mid-April they received a letter from George Wickham, saying that he was doing well in Cambridge, and saw his sister on weekends at the Maddox house, where Lady Maddox and her daughter had reluctantly returned. Dr. Maddox would not leave his patient’s side, and when asked about his standing at Cambridge, he laughed it off and said that professors coming and going was a long-standing problem in the University, anyway. Dr. Fergus said there was nothing more he could do at Pemberley and did return, leaving everyone a bit unnerved, because Geoffrey still sat in silence.

  Although he still couldn’t hear, he had made lots of progress. He could walk about Pemberley now, and even came to dinner, and they were slowly adjusting to his condition. The best way to get his attention was to stomp on the floor, because he felt the vibrations. He seemed to understand them, even beyond ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ or could at least nod along with the conversation as if he did. It was impressive to watch him take the reigns to his own recovering health, demanding that someone read to him as he followed along in a book, so he could watch his face. Mr. Bennet was only too happy to do so for his grandson. The only thing Geoffrey seemed to take badly was the departure of the Bingleys, when Georgiana was well enough to go. Chatton House was only three miles away but that was three miles too far for him to travel, and he expressed his annoyance in the typical Darcy fashion of not saying anything about it while it was clearly written on his face.

  “At least that creature is gone,” Darcy said to his son. “Monkey.”

  “Monkey?” Geoffrey asked, not clear on the word.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re the only one who doesn’t like him, Father.”

  “I will not make excuses.” Darcy added a shrug for emphasis. His son seemed to understand, or at least was good at pretending to do so.

  *****************************************

  The understanding Georgie had reached with her parents did not, unfortunately, extend to her sister, who seemed frightened whenever she entered the room. “I don’t bite,” she said. Charlie might understand, but he was at Eton.

  Edmund, at least, seem to grasp some of the complexities of the Bingley household, and how it had been forever changed. He was still not old enough for Eton, but he was sharp as
a tack. Georgie was willing to go as far as to say that while he was not as sympathetic, he had a cleverness that Charlie did not.

  “Are you going to give it all up now?” Edmund asked as she sat in the drawing room, doing precisely that. Georgie looked up from her art at him with an expression that answered the question. “Apparently not.”

  “I don’t have the costume, and I lack enemies to shoot, and yes, perhaps I shouldn’t have been so dramatic about it,” she said. “That does not mean I intend to sit on my bottom and paint china cups until the next ball.”

  “So, what? You can’t pretend to hide it anymore.”

  “I’ve no intention of doing so. I told Mama and Papa that I would be on my best behavior in society, and they said what I did on my walks was my business, provided they do not overlap – ever again.”

  “I don’t know how many Hatchers there are in the universe.”

  “Too many, but not in Derbyshire, perhaps. Mama and Papa can only hope.”

  Edmund smiled. “I thought it was smart.” He did not wait for her response. “You probably would have managed it without being hurt if Hatcher didn’t have the rifle. You were too far away to be hit by a pistol.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I know Potter’s Field. And I’ve thought about it,” he said. “If you had hit Hatcher and ran away as you intended, the only one who would have been any the wiser would have been Mr. Jenkins, and he would have kept it secret. You probably threatened him.”

  “I did,” she said.

  “And maybe Geoffrey, if he even remembered, but he wouldn’t say anything. He would be the last person on earth to say anything. It could have gone differently and because you were dressed up, your identity would have been safe. In fact, because you were dressed up like a wolf, precisely the type of animal currently overpopulating our forests, no one took Hatcher seriously from the start and even if he’d lived, they wouldn’t have begun to believe him. I bet he didn’t even know you were a woman until the very end.”