The Ladies of Longbourn (20 page)

Colin Elliott shook his head as if in bewilderment. In fact, he was agreeing with her. "Though I have no personal knowledge of these circumstances, I have long admired those qualities of selflessness and courage in her," he said.
Elizabeth thought, for one moment, that he was about to say something more, but just then they heard from below the sound of a vehicle coming up the drive and, looking out, they saw Mr Darcy and Fitzwilliam walking down to meet it.
As it approached the house, Elizabeth recognised the occupants.
"Look, it's Caroline and Anne-Marie," she exclaimed, and noticed how Colin Elliott's countenance coloured deeply. For a few moments, he looked very shy and would not meet her eyes, but then he seemed to force himself to speak.
"Mrs Darcy, please let me say how much I appreciate what you have told me today. I am grateful that you trusted me to know the details of what is surely an intimate family matter."
Elizabeth smiled.
"It is indeed an intimate family matter, Mr Elliott, and I do trust you to respect the confidence I have placed in you. But, I know you are acquainted with my nephew and his family and it is not inappropriate that you should learn the true circumstances of his first wife's death from one of us, rather than hear of it through rumour and gossip."
Assuring her that he would never have paid any heed to such sources, he thanked her again for trusting him, as he followed her down the stairs.
By the time they reached the main hall, the two ladies had been admitted to the saloon and were about to be seated. They entered the handsome room with its pleasing view of the park and the wooded hills beyond, where Caroline was busy explaining to her husband and Mr Darcy how they had visited Kympton and spent a most instructive morning with Emily Courtney at the parish school.
"Tomorrow, we are to visit the hospital at Littleford," said Caroline, and Anne-Marie, who had her back to the door, had removed her hat, and was attempting to fix a lock of her hair that was slipping down her neck, added, "We asked Emily if Mr Elliott could come, too; he was keen to visit the hospital and Emily was quite agreeable. We shall have to send word to him tonight," she said as Elizabeth and Mr Elliott entered the room.
Darcy, smiling broadly, aware that they had already heard her words, said lightly, "Well, here's the man himself, Anne-Marie; you can give him the good news."
Anne-Marie swung round and on seeing Mr Elliott standing there with Elizabeth, her face and neck became covered with a deep blush, and moments later, she asked to be excused and left the room. Elizabeth accompanied her as she went upstairs, asking permission to sit quietly for a few minutes. Though she did not press her at all, Lizzie was in no doubt that Anne-Marie was well aware of Colin Elliott's interest in her. They returned some fifteen minutes later to join the others for refreshments, which had been brought in and laid upon the table by the windows. After a while, Elizabeth noticed that Mr Elliott, who had been talking avidly to Caroline, had moved to seat himself beside Anne-Marie. Plans were being made to visit the hospital on the morrow and, before they left, an invitation was issued and gladly accepted for the entire party to dine at Pemberley on the Saturday.
"I should very much like you to meet our daughter Cassandra and her husband Dr Richard Gardiner," said Mr Darcy. "Richard has an abiding interest in improving the health of our communities. He has worked untiringly to establish and improve the hospitals at Littleford and Matlock and runs his own research laboratory."
Darcy was plainly very proud of the achievements of his son-in-law, and Mr Elliott looked most impressed. "Then he will certainly have much to tell that is of interest to us; both Mrs Bradshaw and I are hoping to do the same for our community in Hertfordshire with the hospital for children at Bell's Field. I look forward to meeting Dr Gardiner," he said.
Anne-Marie, glad to be back on a safe subject, agreed at once that Richard Gardiner, with his experience, would be an excellent source of advice. Fitzwilliam was sure there would be no other subject discussed on the night.
"Darcy, I suggest we retire to the billiard room after dinner," he said, as they parted in great good humour, looking forward very much to their next visit to Pemberley.

The visit to Littleford hospital was a most salutary experience. It opened their eyes to so many significant matters that Anne-Marie had to borrow notepaper and pencil to take notes for future reference. Emily Courtney, who'd had charge of administering the hospital for several years, was able to explain all the possible problems they might encounter along the way and more besides. She introduced them, too, to Dr Henry Forrester, who gave them plenty of sound advice on the types of childhood ailments and diseases that would need to be attended to and the need to have an isolation room for children with contagious diseases. "It is essential if you are to avert an epidemic in the village, which can, if not diagnosed in time, cost the lives of very young children," he warned.

Time and again, Colin Elliott found himself surprised by the number of matters that had been overlooked and needed attention--licenses to practice, a willing apothecary to dispense medicines, competent nurses, sanitary officers, and above all, a good, hardworking doctor.

When they dined at Pemberley and met Dr Richard Gardiner and his wife Cassandra, the subject of a doctor for the hospital came up again. Richard was adamant that they must appoint a young man.

"He must not only be fit, with a strong constitution, and patient with sick children, who are notoriously fractious when away from home," he said, "but he should be young enough to be open to the new ideas that are coming thick and fast. Dr Faulkner is dedicated and competent, but he is elderly and may not be able to cope, though he will be a useful locum. Be warned; demand for services will double overnight, once the clinic is established," he explained. "The poor, Mr Elliott, especially those with many children, cannot afford to attend a doctor's consulting rooms. But establish a free clinic and they will come. Believe me, your hospital will save lives just as it did here."

Richard Gardiner made several worthwhile suggestions, while Colin Elliott and Anne-Marie listened carefully, taking note of his valuable advice. Mr Elliott was obviously impressed by Dr Gardiner's knowledge and experience, yet Cassandra sitting beside her mother and watching them from across the drawing room, detected something more in the air.

"I think he is in love with her, Mama," she whispered. "He keeps talking of doctors and hospitals, but he cannot tear his eyes away from her, even when Richard is speaking."

Elizabeth smiled, "Yes, I had noticed that, but then, my dear Cassy, even your handsome husband cannot compete with Anne-Marie's looks. She is looking particularly well tonight," she said and Cassy agreed.

"Indeed, she is; that brilliant blue suits her well. Could it be a serious attachment, Mama? Will they marry, do you think?"
Elizabeth was noncommittal. "I do not know, my dear; I am not the confidante of either party. But one thing is clear to anyone who has eyes to see, he is in love with her, and if people see them together often, it is going to be the talk of the county."
"Do you think he will ask her?"
"Probably, but how soon, I cannot tell. He seems a very proper young man and it is possible he will want to ask her father's permission first," said Elizabeth.
Later, Elizabeth and Caroline played the piano and Fitzwilliam was easily persuaded to join his wife in a song, as the party went late into the night. Neither Colin Elliott nor Anne-Marie volunteered to perform and, though they were seen talking earnestly as they sat together taking coffee, he did not propose.
Colin Elliott had been very tempted that night. The atmosphere of gracious living that Pemberley afforded them, together with good food and music, all enhanced his mood of romantic anticipation, especially with Mrs Bradshaw looking particularly appealing. Yet, something held him back and he decided to wait until they had returned to Hertfordshire. Elizabeth had read him correctly; he intended to approach Mr Bingley first. The letter he had written regarding the role Anne-Marie might play in the administration of the hospital at Bell's Field would afford him a convenient opening, he decided. Clearly, the family at Pemberley would have to wait a while longer to discover the answer to their question.
Later that night, Elizabeth revealed to her husband the gist of her conversation with Mr Elliott and her conviction that the gentleman was showing a clear partiality for Anne-Marie. Darcy had listened while she spoke, and when she asked, "What is your opinion? Do you think I was right to reveal the circumstances of Amelia-Jane's death or do you believe I was indiscreet?" he answered in his usual measured way, "That is hardly likely, Lizzie, my dear. That you chose to speak openly and honestly is to my mind a virtue. I believe you had no alternative; there was nothing to be gained by dissembling and trying to conceal the facts; he was bound to have discovered them anyway. There are enough people who make a living by spreading rumour and gossip, who would have seen fit to apprise him of the circumstances, no sooner had his connection with the Bingleys become common knowledge among the denizens of Hertfordshire. You, my dear, have forestalled them."
Elizabeth was pleased to have his approval.
"That was certainly my intention. I thought it also important to indicate that we were proud of Anne-Marie, not allowing her to be in any way tarnished by her mother's foolhardy escapade, tragic though it was in its consequences. But I admit, I have been apprehensive that my words may have discomposed him and caused him to change his mind regarding Anne-Marie." Darcy smiled; he was very proud of his wife's perspicacity.
"I can see no reason for that, my love; you were absolutely right to be frank and open with him. If I were Mr Colin Elliott, I would rather know the truth about the background of the lady I was hoping to marry than be surprised by any unpleasant revelations later."
Elizabeth's eyes sparkled; even though it was very late, all thought of sleep had fled. "Thank you, my dear, you are very kind. You have completely restored my belief in my judgment. Now let me put your powers of prediction to the test. Do you believe he intends to propose?"
"Lizzie dearest, I make no claim to any such powers, but I have eyes to see and I have no doubt he does. Fitzwilliam and I noted that Elliott hardly moved from Anne-Marie's side all evening. I am convinced he is in love and very likely to propose to her as soon as they are back in Hertfordshire."
"Cassy and I were surprised that he has not done so already," she said, prompting a typical reply from her husband, "Ah yes, no doubt you ladies would have him surrendering to the romantic ambience of the evening, eh? But, I believe he is a rather cautious man, who wishes to do the right thing and probably means to apply to her father first."
"And do you believe Jonathan will consent?" she asked.
"He has no reason not to do so; from what I hear of him, Elliott is a fine, principled young fellow, with excellent prospects," he replied.
She pressed him further. "And Anne-Marie, will she accept him, do you think?"
This time, he was more circumspect in his answer.
"That, my dear, is quite another matter. As you well know, Lizzie, I am not a good student of the minds of women in general and even with those with whom I am most intimate, I may sometimes blunder. Furthermore, the young lady is very good at keeping her feelings to herself. On that question, we shall have to wait and see."
Elizabeth laughed softly. She had asked the question more to test his mood than to obtain a definite answer. She knew her husband well and was content to find him in such a relaxed and amenable frame of mind.
Neither of them had any doubt that Colin Elliott had shown a strong partiality for Anne-Marie and knowing how deeply hurt she had been in her first marriage, they hoped sincerely she would be given another chance at happiness.

After what, she was able to pronounce with confidence, was a very useful and enjoyable stay in Derbyshire, Anne-Marie returned to Netherfield Park to find her father alone. "Teresa and Cathy are gone to Ashford Park to spend a few weeks with your grandparents and thereafter to Pemberley, I believe," he said.

"And Anna?" she asked.
"My dear wife has been called away to her sister in Hampshire, who I believe is unwell," he explained. "Not again?" Anne-Marie was sceptical; Sarah Martyn was one of those women, whose indispositions tended to arouse more amusement than sympathy, so frequent and unaccountable had they become. She was married to a farmer in Hampshire, whose skills in animal husbandry were obviously of a higher order than those expected of a husband. While his mother-in-law assured everyone that Mr Martyn was an excellent farmer, she could never assure them of his success as a husband and father with the same degree of confidence. Apart from siring several children, who were also prone to innumerable ailments, he appeared quite incapable of caring satisfactorily for any of them or, indeed, his long-suffering wife. Her only recourse in such emergencies was to send urgent requests for help and consolation to her mother and sister.
Since her marriage to Jonathan Bingley, Anna had tried assiduously to avoid having to rush to her sister's bedside at regular intervals, but on this occasion, their mother, Mrs Faulkner, being unwell herself, there had been no help for it. Anna had to go.
"Whatever is it this time?" asked Anne-Marie, who was disappointed to find Anna away. She had wanted very much to confide in her. There were several matters she had wished to discuss.
Her father showed a little more patience. "I cannot be certain, but I gather from Dr Faulkner that this time, it has more to do with the mind than the body. In short, I believe Mrs Martyn suffers from depression."
Anne-Marie was unconvinced. "I am sure it is just another device to get poor Anna to rush to Hampshire and hold her hand. She has probably quarrelled with Mr Martyn or one of her children and wants a shoulder to weep on."
As she chattered on, Jonathan rose and went over to his desk, taking out a letter, which he unfolded as he stood before her.
Anne-Marie stopped talking and, looking up from perusing the letter in his hand, her father said, in a fairly matter-of-fact voice, "My dear, I have received this letter from Mr Elliott."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when she went crimson with embarrassment and ran from the room. Jonathan Bingley stood still for fully five minutes, before realization dawned. He had clearly made some sort of
faux pas
, giving her the impression that the letter contained a proposal of marriage from Mr Elliott. Unprepared for such an eventuality, Anne-Marie had been embarrassed and upset and fled the room.
Oh dear, what have I done? Jonathan mused, putting down the letter.
All he had set out to do was to inform Anne-Marie of Colin Elliott's proposition that she be persuaded to take up the management of the children's hospital at Bell's Field.
Folding the letter and putting it away in his pocket, Jonathan set off to find his daughter. Approaching her bedroom, he knocked and went in to find her sitting by the window, looking out on a bleak scene, with a fine spring drizzle obscuring her view of the park.
Jonathan was apologetic. "Anne-Marie, my dear, I am sorry, I should have said . . ." he began, but she did not let him finish. Tearful and sad at having upset her father, she protested, "No Papa, it is I who should be sorry; it was stupid and childish of me to have run away. I do apologise, sincerely." He put his arms around her and suddenly, weakening, she was in tears.
When she was calmer, he persuaded her to return to his study.
"First, let me reassure you, there is nothing whatever to be alarmed about in Mr Elliott's letter. Here, read it yourself," he said, taking it from his pocket and putting it in her hands.
On reading it, Anne-Marie's face became pale; she was mortified and embarrassed at having misunderstood the writer's intention and behaved in such a juvenile manner. She bit her lip and looked ashamed as she handed it back to her father. "Papa, I am truly sorry, I feel such a fool. I cannot think why I thought as I did and behaved as I did," she said, and he smiled.
"Do you not? Perhaps it will become clear later. Well, now you know what he has suggested, what have you to say? Would you like to have charge of the children's hospital you have worked so hard to establish?" he asked.
Her eyes were shining and not from her tears.
"Papa, nothing will make me happier. But is it what you would wish?"
"My dear child, it is not my wish that matters, but, of course I would like to see you do it and I know you will do it well. The whole scheme is not mine; oh, I know I purchased the site and helped in other ways and will continue to do so, but it was your brainchild and, together with Mr Elliott, you have worked to establish it. When it is completed, you must do whatever will bring you satisfaction," he said.
"And Mr Elliott suggests that I am able and qualified enough to do it?" She sounded a little unsure, but her father had no such qualms. "Indeed, he does." Jonathan picked up the letter. "He writes,"