Page 20 of More Than You Know (The Love Conquers Pride #3)
Chapter Nineteen
A fter parting with Elizabeth the previous night, Darcy had returned to his chambers and dashed off a brief note to Dr Harper, handing it to his valet at first light and asking that it be delivered without delay.
As was his custom, he had awoken early, washed, and dressed. But instead of breakfasting, he made his way to his study. It was there that the physician found him, arriving promptly at the appointed time and knocking lightly on the open door.
Darcy immediately stood, beckoning the gentleman in and motioning for him to take one of the two chairs opposite his desk.
“Thank you for coming,” he began, moving to close the heavy mahogany door before returning to his own seat.
Across from him, Dr Harper dipped his chin. “Of course. I am at your disposal, sir. Indeed, it sounded like a matter of some urgency.”
Darcy offered the gentleman a single nod, but beyond that, he found himself momentarily at a loss, his practised eloquence deserting him in the face of the task before him. He opened his mouth to speak but faltered, and Harper’s perceptive gaze softened.
“Your note mentioned you had a question of a medical nature,” the physician gently probed, his tone one of encouragement. “Is your shoulder still bothering you, from your fall the other day?”
“Ah, no.” Darcy looked away, shuffling some papers on his desk before saying, “Though I do have a medical issue on which I would welcome your advice. But first, I wish to thank you,” he began, “for your discretion regarding the events at the dower house, the day you arrived. I know that what you witnessed could easily have been misconstrued, and I am grateful for your circumspection.”
Dr Harper waved the words away with a small smile. “You owe me no thanks for that. Elizabeth’s character speaks for itself. If she says nothing untoward occurred, I believe her.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “Does the matter you wished to speak to me about have to do with my niece?”
Darcy hesitated. “Not directly, no, although she is aware of all I am about to relate. It was at Miss Elizabeth’s prompting that I asked to see you,” he admitted. “She believed—believes—that you may be able to offer guidance on a…personal matter.”
And so, Darcy began. He kept his account brief, recounting the essentials of what he had already told Elizabeth. He spoke of his first attack, of the fear and confusion it had wrought, and of his father’s efforts to find help. The ineffective treatments he had already tried, and the years of secrecy and shame that had followed.
Dr Harper listened intently, stopping Darcy occasionally to ask for clarification or to follow up on something he had said.
When Darcy finished his recitation, silence stretched between them for a moment before the physician leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “So, it is the falling sickness,” he eventually offered, “or epilepsy, as it is more properly called.”
Darcy’s gaze remained fixed upon the pile of correspondence in front of him. “Yes.”
The doctor regarded him carefully before speaking again. “Well, you are in good company. Great men throughout history have been thought to have suffered from the affliction—Socrates, Julius Caesar, Alexander the Great, as well as many others. In fact, the ancient Greeks used to refer to epilepsy as ‘the sacred disease’. But then, I suspect you know all this already.”
Darcy nodded, pulling his lips up into a humourless smile. “I have read everything I can find on the subject. But nothing I have learned has offered much in the way of hope when it comes to controlling the disease, or more importantly, uncovering a cure.”
“And the physician you mentioned? The one in Edinburgh?” Dr Harper enquired.
“Tonics and tinctures—none of which proved effective. Although he was touted as an expert in the field, his knowledge was rudimentary, at best. All he could tell me was that it was a malady of the mind and was likely hereditary.”
Dr Harper was silent for a long moment, a crease forming along his forehead as he considered. Finally, he began speaking in a low tone. “This is not my area of expertise,” he admitted, “but I have colleagues—trusted men—whose work does venture into such matters. If you wish it, I would be more than willing to write to them on your behalf.”
“You would do that?” Darcy asked. “Of course,” the physician replied without hesitation. “No man should carry such a burden alone.”
Darcy swallowed hard, the words settling heavily in his chest. He was not yet certain what such an offer might yield, but for the first time in a very long while, the path ahead did not feel entirely impassable.
Lost in his thoughts, he startled when Dr Harper spoke again.
“You mentioned earlier,” he began, his tone measured, “that you had taken Elizabeth into your confidence. However, am I correct in assuming that your condition is not widely known?”
Darcy responded with a curt nod. “Only a few trusted members of my household and a handful of close relations are aware of it. I have taken great care to ensure it remains that way.”
“And yet, you chose to tell Elizabeth.”
Heat prickled at the base of Darcy’s neck, but when he spoke his reply was even. “Yes, though I did not set out to do so. Elizabeth witnessed an episode at the dower house. I could not let her leave without an explanation.”
At the use of his niece’s given name, Dr Harper lifted a brow but chose not to remark on it. Instead, he shifted the conversation. “Ah, the fall you mentioned?”
Darcy inclined his head in acknowledgement.
“Well,” the doctor said with a faint smile, “you could not have chosen a better confidant. Elizabeth is, as I am sure you have noticed, an extraordinarily sensible young lady. My sister has often spoken of her remarkable composure. And, if I may add, she is also quite lovely.”
“That she is,” Darcy murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor. When he glanced up again, Dr Harper was studying him with an expression that bordered on amusement.
“You are in love with her.”
Darcy noted that it was not a question, and he briefly looked away, his shoulders sagging under the weight of unspoken thoughts. When he turned back to face the lady’s uncle, all he could seem to manage was a tentative nod, before saying in a hoarse whisper, “More than I can bear to admit.”
“I see.” After a moment he added, “And unless I very much miss my guess, it would seem she is in love with you.”
Once again, Darcy was taken aback by Harper’s quiet certainty.
“I cannot think why she would be, given all I have confessed. But the matter is immaterial. If you are asking whether I intend to marry her, the answer is no.”
Harper’s expression grew solemn; however he did not immediately argue. Instead, he regarded Darcy thoughtfully, as though deliberating the best way to proceed.
“I see,” he repeated, his voice carefully neutral. “Forgive me for my presumption, but I feel compelled to ask. Is there any reason you should marry her?”
Darcy tensed at the implication, and heat crept into his cheeks as a fleeting memory of their kiss rose unbidden in his mind.
“Certainly not! If you are insinuating that I would debase Elizabeth in such a way, I would never show her such disrespect.”
“So, you are prepared to let her go?” Dr Harper asked, his voice sharp. “This woman you love beyond all reason?”
Darcy straightened, startled by the intensity in the other man’s tone. Yet, when he replied, his voice remained steady. “I am. Unless you have some magical potion to make me whole again, then yes. I shall let her go.”
Dr Harper’s eyes flashed, and he leaned forwards in his chair. “Then you are a fool.”
Darcy flinched at the harshness of the words, but before he could object, the man pressed on.
“I am sorry, Mr Darcy, but if you are looking for sympathy, you will receive none from me. Do you have any idea how fortunate you are to have found the kind of mutual affection you share with my niece and to be able to act upon it? To have the right to join your life with hers, openly, as man and wife? To build a family and a future together?” He paused, his voice breaking. “Dear God, I would give anything …”
The doctor abruptly stood, pacing several feet away, his voice faltering as he struggled for composure. Meanwhile, Darcy sat in stunned silence as the pieces slowly began falling into place. Dr Harper’s vehemence, his sudden loss of equanimity—it was too personal, too raw.
Realization struck, and with it came understanding. This—this was why Elizabeth had so easily misinterpreted his relationship with Walsh. She knew someone who bore the scars of a secret life, and she had witnessed its toll. The physician’s sudden loss of composure revealed far more than the man likely intended.
He regarded the physician, his features soft. “I am sorry,” he said quietly. “Truly sorry.”
Dr Harper did not meet his gaze immediately, but when he finally turned, his expression was carefully guarded. “Such is the way of things,” he said, his tone resigned. “I apologize for my outburst. I should be accustomed to it by now.”
Darcy slowly inclined his head. “And your family? Are they aware of how things stand?”
The physician hesitated before nodding. “The relations I trust, yes. I confided in my sister long ago, and I gave her leave to tell Gardiner before they married. To his credit, my brother-in-law has never treated me with anything but kindness and respect, for which I shall always be grateful.”
“And Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, though he felt he already knew the answer.
Dr Harper exhaled, his shoulders easing slightly. “Yes. Elizabeth and Jane know. But I would not have the rest of the Bennets informed.”
Darcy managed a faint smile, nodding his comprehension. He could all too easily imagine Mrs Bennet’s hysterics and the youngest sisters’ careless gossip.
They fell into a contemplative silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound between them. Darcy reflected on the other man’s burden—a lifetime spent concealing the truth, navigating the world under the weight of society’s judgment, shaping every choice around what would be deemed acceptable. Was it so different, he wondered, from his own fears? The relentless effort to conceal his affliction, to move through each day with the quiet dread of being discovered?
And yet Harper had endured. He had carved out a future for himself despite it all.
Darcy’s gaze returned to the man standing before him, and something shifted. A kinship. Perhaps better than anyone, Elizabeth’s uncle knew what it meant to live with a secret.
And in that moment, Darcy was certain that he could trust Harper with his own.
Elizabeth awoke on Christmas morning far later than usual, the pale winter light doing little to dispel the shadows left by a restless night. Sitting up slowly, she pressed her fingers to her temples as memories of her meeting with Mr Darcy came rushing back. The heaviness in her chest threatened to pull her into a spiral of melancholy, but a knock at the sitting room door drew her from her thoughts.
Quickly wrapping herself in her dressing gown, Elizabeth went to answer. But when she entered the adjoining chamber, she found Jane, dressed and ready for the day, opening the door to the corridor. To their mutual surprise, Georgiana stepped inside, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright with anticipation.
Elizabeth’s nightclothes drew a brief falter in the girl’s expression, and she instantly began stammering an apology, but Elizabeth waved it aside.
“You do not need to beg my forgiveness. I am the one at fault for oversleeping. Give me just a moment, and I shall be ready to join you both downstairs.”
Once Elizabeth was dressed and refreshed, the three ladies descended to the breakfast room, where the rest of the household had already gathered. The scent of fresh rolls and spiced tea mingled with the faint aroma of greenery adorning the house, filling the room with a cheer that matched the lively conversation. For a time, Elizabeth allowed herself to be swept up in the merriment.
Although it was Christmas morning, the heavy snow made attending church services impossible. Instead, the party assembled in the saloon, where Mr Darcy stood before them, the family Bible in hand. His rich, steady voice filled the air as he read passages appropriate to the season. Elizabeth watched him intently, noting the calm authority with which he commanded the room’s attention.
Afterwards, the pianoforte was opened, and the ladies took turns exhibiting. Georgiana’s playing, as always, was exquisite, her slender fingers weaving beautiful melodies. Elizabeth, though she contributed a lively tune, found her heart was not truly in it. She worked to keep her smiles warm and her spirits high, yet a faint pall seemed to linger over her. She could not help but notice that Mr Darcy, too, appeared more subdued than usual, his moments of quiet reflection almost palpable.
The Christmas feast that followed was a lavish affair. The table was laden with roasted pheasant, venison, spiced puddings, and cakes, all prepared with exceptional care. Candles flickered in polished silver holders, casting a golden glow over the faces of those gathered. Laughter rang out, and glasses were raised in toasts to health and happiness; but for Elizabeth, the joy of the moment felt just out of reach.
As the afternoon waned and the party separated into smaller groups, Elizabeth sought a reprieve. Noting that Jane had secured Mr Bingley’s attention—the pair were settled contentedly before the fire, where Jane was sharing her newly acquired copy of Berenger’s The History and Art of Horsemanship —while Mr Gardiner and Mr Darcy were sitting in a corner discussing political matters as Miss Darcy and Mrs Gardiner kept themselves amused at the pianoforte, she sought out her uncle Harper.
Having made arrangements to meet in one of the small sitting rooms on an upper floor, Elizabeth soon slipped away, where she found the gentleman already waiting. The intimate space was warmed by a crackling fire, its gentle light softening the lines of her uncle’s face as he regarded her carefully.
“You look tired, Lizzy,” he said at last, a slight frown playing across his countenance. “I suspect you did not sleep well last night.”
Elizabeth managed a faint smile. “No, Uncle, I fear I did not.” She paused, her hands folding tightly in her lap. “But I have been hoping we might have a moment alone. Have you… That is, did you speak with Mr Darcy?”
He nodded, leaning back slightly in his chair. “I did. We spoke at length.” He hesitated, his gaze resting on her, as though considering how best to proceed as Elizabeth’s fingers fidgeted with the fabric of her gown.
“While I do not know Mr Darcy well,” her uncle continued, “I can sense that he is a very proud and private man. I think it took a great deal of courage for him to come to me as he did, in no small part due to your encouragement, it would seem.”
Elizabeth lowered her lashes, saying, “I only wished for him to have someone he could confide in. Someone who might offer him some assistance, where I could not.”
“I appreciate your faith in me, but I must admit that Mr Darcy’s malady is beyond my province. However, as I assured him, I have colleagues whose work does delve into such matters. I have offered to write to them on his behalf.”
“Thank you,” she replied, once again meeting his gaze. “That is more than I could have hoped for.”
They were both quiet for a moment before Dr Harper began hesitantly, “Elizabeth, while I applaud you for wanting to be of service, you must understand that a man like Mr Darcy will not easily accept assistance. A gentleman such as he has likely been taught to value strength, independence, and self-reliance above all. To admit vulnerability, even to himself, must be profoundly difficult for him, I think.”
Elizabeth’s fingers tightened in her lap, her mind turning over his words. “I know,” she answered quietly. “He guards his pride fiercely. But I cannot stand by and do nothing.”
Dr Harper’s expression warmed. “You care for Mr Darcy—a great deal.”
Elizabeth’s eyes dropped to her hands, her voice barely above a whisper. “I do.”
Her uncle regarded her thoughtfully before saying, “Forgive me, Lizzy, if I speak out of turn, but I must confess that your aunt led me to believe that it was Mr Bingley who held your affections. Was she mistaken?”
A flush crept up Elizabeth’s neck as she said haltingly, in a low voice, “No. It was never my intention to cause Mr Bingley any pain. My feelings for Mr Darcy have been coming on so gradually, I was in the middle before I knew I had begun. Now I fear I have made a muddle out of the entire situation.”
Her uncle smiled gently back at her. “Not one that cannot be remedied, I suspect.”
When Elizabeth did not answer, he continued, “Elizabeth, none of us possesses the power of choice when it comes to whom we love. I should know that better than most. But, if you have made your decision, you owe both gentlemen your honesty.”
Elizabeth nodded miserably as Dr Harper continued, “And there is something else. With regard to Mr Darcy’s condition, your path, should you choose to move forwards, will not be an easy one. There is no cure for what ails him, and should you continue to grow…closer, you must be prepared for the reality of what a life with him could require.”
Elizabeth managed a faint smile. “I believe it is too late for caution, Uncle. My heart, I am afraid, already belongs to him.”
“Yes, I suspected as much. However, as someone who has your best interests in mind, I would be remiss if I did not speak my piece. Marriage is not always easy, Elizabeth, even in the best of circumstances, but when one person has a debility such as Mr Darcy’s…” His voice faded, and he looked away briefly before continuing, “Let us just say that I have seen even the strongest relationships crumble under the weight of such trying circumstances.”
Elizabeth nodded solemnly, feeling his words settle over her. Yet beneath the apprehension, her heart remained steadfast.
“Thank you, Uncle,” she replied softly, “for your counsel and your kindness. But my mind is made up. I cannot turn away from Mr Darcy. Not now.”
Her uncle sighed but offered her a small, approving smile. “Then I only hope he will let you in. That, my dearest Lizzy, may be the greatest test of all.”