by Lory Lilian
“It was not my fault,” yelled Caroline, and both Darcy and David could recognise the determined, argumentative voice of Caroline Bingley. “You hit me that day, and I fell on the stairs. That is why James was born early. You almost killed your son, you cruel, heartless wretch!”
“James? His name is James?” asked the earl, still dazed by the unexpected news while Darcy and the colonel seemed uncertain as to what to do next.
“Who the hell knows his name? And you—go upstairs this instant, woman—I will speak to you later!”
“Son, did you hit your wife? This cannot be true; I cannot believe it. It surely was a mistake, was it not? Did you fetch a doctor to see the child? We must have a doctor immediately,” the earl said tentatively with a hopeful look. He grabbed his son’s arm, but the young Markham pulled away.
“Stop talking nonsense, Father. Leave me alone—all of you. This spectacle is over.”
It only took a moment for Darcy and the colonel to join Bingley, who was holding Caroline close to him. The two men surrounded their friend while he walked tentatively to the door, supporting his sister and her child. Caroline seemed unable to walk; she struggled to move her feet while her arms held the infant tightly. With horror, Darcy could not take his eyes away from the bruises visible over her neck, face and wrists; some darkened impressions left by a merciless hand were visible on her nape as she bowed her head to watch her child.
“Where do you think you are going with my wife, Bingley?”
“I am taking my sister home; a doctor will take care of her without delay as it is obvious she will not find the care she needs in your house. You will not oppose me, or else, as God is my witness, I will kill you. Step aside.”
“You will kill me? You? That is so amusing that I will laugh for days.”
Markham moved in front of the small group but could not reach Bingley or Caroline, as Darcy and David moved before them.
“So that is your plan—stealing my family away? We will see about that; we will see if anyone would blame me for shooting thieves who tried to kidnap my child,” Markham said with unleashed rage. He leaned near the fireplace, and a second later, a pistol appeared in his hand. Instantly, both Darcy and David ran to him, but it was the earl—only two feet away—who grabbed his son’s arm first.
“Son, what are you doing? What is happening to you, my boy? Please let us sit and talk, nobody is stealing your family. Son, I am begging you.”
By that time, Darcy and David had reached Markham and held him from behind but his father continued to plead with him, standing in front of him, holding his arm tightly. Markham fought violently to escape his captors, and in his struggle, he hit his father; the earl lost his balance and, searching for support, fell against his son.
The blast shattered the entire house; both the earl and his son grew limp and eventually their strangely entwined bodies slid slowly towards the floor. Darcy and David could do little but put Markham down; David was still holding him forcefully while Darcy moved in front of them to check what had happened. A moment of silence followed and then Darcy’s grave voice.
“The pistol went off; he is badly injured.”
***
Midnight had come and gone, and he was still not there. He did not keep his promise, and despite her harsh words, which were still resonating in her own mind, Cassandra knew David was a man of his word. Therefore, if he did not keep his promise, something had happened. She moved around the room, stopping in front of the window, as she had a thousand times that night. She stared outside through the moonlight, hoping, praying, begging to see his carriage. The street remained empty.
She threw herself onto the bed, crying from helpless despair. She wanted to go after him but did not know where he was, and what if he should return and not find her there? She should go to the Darcys’; perhaps Elizabeth had received some news. Surely, Elizabeth would have informed her if she knew anything more. Still she should go. She would not disturb Elizabeth, only ask the servants whether Darcy was home. Yes, that is what she should do!
She took her coat and awakened her maid, sending her to fetch the coachman. The maid looked in shock at her mistress—dressed only in a nightgown, her hair down, barefoot—but obeyed silently. A moment later, however, Mrs. Spencer appeared in the doorway; Cassandra turned her back to her companion, but Mrs. Spencer ignored her dismissal. She took Cassandra’s arm gently but decidedly.
“I cannot allow your ladyship to go anywhere. The master specifically told me to keep you in the house. He said he must find you here when he returns.”
Cassandra turned red at that daring answer, and a sharp reply escaped her lips. Mrs. Spencer’s countenance remained unchanged, and a loving smile lit her face as she gently directed Cassandra back to her room.
“I know he is late, but he will return, my child; I can feel it. You must learn to be confident in your husband and to trust the Lord.”
“And you should learn to trust Mrs. Spencer,” added David from the doorway; his voice made Cassandra gasp and she remained still while her husband moved slowly to her. Mrs. Spencer sighed and exited the room, hiding her tears.
Cassandra’s eyes travelled along his body to confirm that he was unharmed, and then she looked at his face to find answers to the questions she did not dare to ask. “Darcy and Bingley are fine,” he whispered.
His arms embraced her closely, and she crushed herself against him. His gaze, the expression of his face and his tensed body told her something had happened. However, as long as he was safe and her friends were safe—she selfishly chose not to ask more for the time being. The nightmare was over, and anything else mattered very little to her.
***
Darcy stood at the edge of Elizabeth’s bed and watched her carefully while he related the tragic events to her, choosing his words carefully.
“So the earl killed his son?”
“No—no. It was an accident; the gun went off between them. The earl is still in shock. Despite the fact that his son’s character was revealed tonight, I am sure the earl would prefer to have died himself to save his son. What a punishment for a father.”
Elizabeth looked deeply into her husband’s eyes and confessed with all her sincerity, “Lord, forgive me—I feel no regret that a man’s life was taken. I feel no pity for either Markham or the earl. I know it sounds cruel, but that is how I feel. I am glad he is gone.”
Darcy kissed her hand. “You must not trouble yourself any longer with any of them.”
“I shall not—they both will be forgotten soon. Only poor Caroline likely will not be able to forget him.”
Darcy shivered as he remembered Caroline’s state. Elizabeth looked at him closely and took his hand.
“Is she so altered? Is that why you did not allow me to see her?”
He could not possibly tell Elizabeth the truth about Caroline’s condition, not after all the emotions she had to bear that night. “The doctor is with her now, and you need to rest without delay. We will talk more tomorrow.”
She hesitated a moment, obviously desirous to continue, but finally accepted his decision.
“Very well. William, I am pleased you decided to bring Caroline here.”
“My dearest, I confess I am not at all pleased, as my first concern is your peace of mind, but I saw no other solution in the midst of that din. We thought of little else but keeping the entire story as private as possible—though I doubt there will be any secrecy after tomorrow. Bingley’s house was already full of guests with your parents staying there.”
“Oh, you could not possibly have exposed poor Jane to such distress—not now when she is still not recovered. As for Mama, only imagine her reaction when she discovers this abominable story.”
“Precisely. Besides, we have an entire floor unoccupied, so Caroline can reside there without disturbing you at all. We shall offer her the best accommodations and hire some extra help to serve her and take care of her son until she…until she is strong enough to travel and return to h
er house.”
He was not at all certain Caroline would recover enough to travel; even the doctor was shocked when he saw her and discreetly confessed to Darcy that he was sceptical about any improvement.
“William, can I at least see the child, please? Only a moment, then I shall return to bed—I promise.”
Darcy hesitated; the child was as weak as his mother was, and his life was in God’s hands. Could he allow Elizabeth to become attached to that poor infant? He knew he was selfish, but he could think of little else but his wife and his own child. For Caroline’s child, he already arranged to hire a servant and a wet nurse—and the latter was found and fetched in only a few hours time. He would do anything in his power to offer the best care to both mother and child—anything except exposing Elizabeth to more worry and pain.
“Please, William—only a moment. My love, I understand your concern. I imagine the child cannot be strong and healthy when he was born early and his mother is so ill, but I will pray for him, and I will accept God’s will—whatever that might be. May I see him, please? ”
He smiled and, though his heart was still heavy, kissed her hand in acceptance. “You are the mistress of the house, Mrs. Darcy. You may do whatever you wish.”
***
It was daylight, but the room was obscured, and Elizabeth asked the maid to open the window. She touched Caroline’s forehead briefly and then turned to Cassandra and Georgiana.
“I believe we have reason to hope. Her fever has not increased since this morning. Dr. Morrison said that is a good sign.
“Thank the Lord. She is so changed; I still cannot believe she is Caroline,” whispered Cassandra.
Elizabeth never would have believed it possible, but she did greatly worry for Caroline and had spent many hours praying for her life and health. That was quite ironic—considering her past “friendship” with the former Miss Bingley. Fate has a strange sense of humour, Elizabeth mused.
“Elizabeth, I think she is awake,” Cassandra said loudly.
Elizabeth sat at the edge of the bed as she touched Caroline’s hand. The patient moaned and moved, trying to lift her head but it fell back on the pillow.
“Caroline, how are you?” No coherent answer came, only moans and the violent movements of a body half conscious. Elizabeth called for the servants, and two maids entered instantly, holding Caroline’s hands as she struggled.
Finally, after more than a quarter of an hour, Caroline fell asleep again, but her head kept moving violently, and her hands grabbed the sheets in despair as if she were in a dark nightmare. After another long hour, she eventually calmed, her breathing became steady again, and she remained so until later that day.
An hour before dinner, Elizabeth came once again to check on Caroline. The nurse’s report was satisfactory, and she had almost exited the room when she heard Caroline’s weak voice calling for someone. Elizabeth hurried to the bed and called her name until Caroline finally opened her eyes and they faced each other. Elizabeth attempted to calm her obvious distress when suddenly Caroline grabbed her arms painfully.
“Where is my son? What happened to him? Where is my child?” Caroline kept crying while she tried to rise from the bed, pulling at Elizabeth’s hand.
Elizabeth struggled to calm her with no success. Caroline’s agitation became greater and her cries louder and louder until the servants interfered and freed Elizabeth’s arm from Caroline’s hands. Elizabeth moved away from the bed to the other side of the room.
“Caroline, he is here…do not cry, he is here…” Elizabeth repeated, almost yelling to cover Caroline’s voice while she took the infant from his bed and moved closer to Caroline.
The patient needed a couple of minutes to hear and take in the meaning of Elizabeth’s words. The child’s soft cries seemed to bring Caroline back to reality, and she started sobbing with despair as she stretched her arms to take the child from Elizabeth.
“Careful, let me put him near you,” Elizabeth said, smiling reassuringly while she put the small burden on the pillow so Caroline could see him. “You are too weak to sit, and we do not want to harm him, do we? He is such a beautiful boy. Here he is, close to his mother.”
Caroline stared at Elizabeth in disbelief, and then her eyes rested upon her son and she cried again, covering her mouth with her palm while tears rolled down her cheeks.
“He looks so changed. He has grown so much, and he looks so healthy,” she cried in wonder.
“He does look healthy and sweet.” Elizabeth smiled with no little emotion. “And yes, he did grow a lot, though you have been in our home for only a fortnight—
“A fortnight? We have been here a fortnight? But how —? Oh dear God, what happened with —? I had a horrible dream. Was it a dream? Is he dead? Or —?”
“Caroline, calm yourself. I will tell you everything if you promise to stop crying. Your son is asleep. We must stay quiet not to distress him.”
“Yes, yes, I do not want to distress him. My little angel—you are so beautiful,” she whispered as her fingers brushed against the baby’s little hands. “Oh dear God, is my son really healthy? Will he live to grow up? He always said my child was unworthy of his name and was too weak to live. But now he looks so healthy—does he not look healthy?”
“Your child is as healthy as he is beautiful; the doctor confirmed that. He was indeed quite weak as he had been born before his time; he was hungry too as you were not strong enough to feed him adequately. But all is well now; we hired a wet nurse and a maid to take care of him, and he improved wonderfully. You should be proud of him! Dr. Morrison will come to visit you soon and will confirm it for himself. We should take good care of you now, Lady Markham—
“Do not call me that,” Caroline interrupted her brutally, and Elizabeth looked at her in surprise. “Do not call me Lady Markham, please. Call me anything you want except that,” she insisted in a more subdued voice while her eyes pleaded to reinforce her request.
Elizabeth nodded silently, and an awkward silence fell upon the room.
As though he could sense it, the child started to sob in his sleep. Caroline caressed him gently, but he continued to wail. A couple of minutes later, uncertain whether her gesture would upset Caroline, Elizabeth hesitantly lifted the child in her arms and pulled him to her chest, whispering in his ear. Almost instantly, the baby’s cries vanished, and he resumed his peaceful sleep; she sat on the bed near Caroline, gently cradling the child.
“He is comfortable in your arms. He appears to know you very well,” Caroline noted with both sadness and disbelief. “Did you hold him before—by yourself?”
“Oh, of course I held him; in fact, we have become quite good friends lately. He is a very handsome, nice young gentleman, though a little spoiled,” Elizabeth attempted to joke. “But now that you are well, I am sure he will be much more comfortable with his beloved mother.”
Caroline’s face was pale; she stretched her hand to touch the baby’s small head and then looked at Elizabeth in surprise. “You are expecting too; you will have your own baby soon.”
“Yes, I will, and Charles and Jane have a little boy. Did he mention that to you? Charles is so happy he will have two boys around,” Elizabeth continued, smiling gently.
Caroline seemed to disregard that second bit of information, her eyes fixed upon Elizabeth.
“You are expecting, and still you took the trouble of taking care of me and my child. After everything I have done to you, after my unforgivable behaviour toward you and your family, after all my offences and meanness—my child found safety, comfort, and peace in your arms. You brought us to your home and put your own feelings aside for us when you easily could have chosen to stay far away from this horrid affair.”
“Lady—pardon me, umm—Miss Bingley, I will speak openly since you brought up the matter. I will not even attempt to say you are not correct; your past behaviour to my family and me has been always unkind and ungenerous. However, my own behaviour has not been correct at all times, so we a
re rather even. We could talk about this matter again sometime, if you like, but for now we should put the past aside and talk instead about the present and the future,” Elizabeth said, placing a soft kiss on the child’s small hand.
“I have been wrong in so many ways . I have been at fault so many times with you, and you are so kind, so generous. I never thought that would be possible. No other woman in your place would—
“Come, Miss Bingley, we are family now. Let us not argue about the past! Any fault you may have had, any offences and arguments were instantly forgotten and forgiven the moment I saw this beautiful little face. Anyone in my position would have done the same. How could one not take care of such an angel?” Elizabeth concluded with a warm, affectionate smile.
She put the baby on the pillow again and intended to retire in order to allow Caroline to enjoy his presence. She knew mother and son needed time to rebuild their bond, and the two maids sitting discreetly in the corner of the room were sufficient to offer any help or support needed without imposing on Caroline while she was relishing the private company of her child.
A moment later, she felt her hand imprisoned by Caroline, and before she could understand what was happening, Caroline placed a grateful, humble kiss upon it. Elizabeth startled and fought to pull her hand away while Caroline whispered, tearfully, “Thank you, Mrs. Darcy. Thank you.”
A moment of curious silence passed—a brief hesitation—and then Elizabeth smiled, brushing Caroline’s forehead with gentle fingers.
“You are quite welcome, Caroline—quite welcome indeed.”
Chapter 27
A month passed by peacefully, and calm happiness returned to Darcy’s home. The tragic events surrounding young Markham’s death were often mentioned in Town despite the family’s attempt to keep the matter private. In addition, there was no little talk about Caroline Bingley’s great fortune in becoming a young and exceedingly wealthy widow.
Caroline and her child were still in Darcy’s house at Elizabeth’s special invitation. Caroline’s condition continued to improve while little James became as healthy and strong as any infant his age. Caroline spent all her time in her apartments, most of the time holding her son and speaking to him or singing to him in a low voice. As Elizabeth predicted, the bond between mother and son was rapidly restored.
