Page 5 of To Love And To Cherish
“Will you sit here beside me, Mr. Darcy? There is a diagram of the gallbladder, the liver, the pancreas, and the stones.” She opened the volume again and angled it so he might see.
Without ceremony, he joined her on the settee. “Here,” he said, pointing. “The bile duct runs along this channel. When a stone lodges here, it may block the passage and cause intense pain.”
Elizabeth leaned in. “That explains why Aunt Madeline’s tincture of chamomile and peppermint is so helpful; it eases the spasms when the bile cannot flow.”
The tea tray arrived then, and Mrs. Gardiner poured, observing with quiet amusement as the two bent over the book like brother and sister, puzzling through a map.
Darcy read aloud the topmost remedy: “Mrs. Stephens’ Formula: Charred eggshells, charred snails, and Alicante soap.”
Elizabeth wrinkled her brow. “That sounds dreadful.”
He laughed. “No doubt. But perhaps it serves a purpose?”
Elizabeth considered. “Dr. Edgerton in Meryton prescribes charcoal powder to draw inflammation from festering wounds. I wonder if the charred eggshell and snail are effective on the same principle.”
“Adsorption, perhaps?” Darcy mused. “Drawing impurities out?”
Mrs. Gardiner sipped her tea and smiled over the rim of her cup. For the next hour, the parlor buzzed with cheerful discourse, their heads bent together as they scoured page after page.
At last, Mr. Darcy glanced at the clock and rose abruptly.
“I have overstayed my welcome by three-quarters of an hour,” he said with an apologetic smile. “My father would be mortified.”
“Never fear, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “We shall not write to inform him.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Nor publish it inThe Times.”
In the pause that followed, Mrs. Gardiner took the opportunity to address the young man.
“Mr. Darcy, you are most welcome to join us in the stillroom whenever your schedule permits. Our hours are rather early, I must confess, and I daresay you are more often to be found on horseback at such times. But each morning, from seven until nine, Elizabeth and I devote ourselves to the work in order to keep pace with the needs of the orphanage. If ever you are inclined to try your hand at compounding, distillation, and other extraction techniques, you shall find our door open.”
Darcy inclined his head, his eyes alight with interest. “Thank you, ma’am. I should very much like to take you up on that.”
Then Darcy turned to Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, thank you for your company and your insights. I hope you will enjoy the book.”
“I’ll be reading it cover to cover, beginning this evening” she promised. “And treasure it always.”
He hesitated a moment longer, then looked to Mrs. Gardiner. “May I ask something of you, ma’am?”
“Of course.”
“As Miss Bennet and I seem rather like cousins in our academic pursuits, would you permit us to use Christian names in private conversation?”
Mrs. Gardiner raised her brows but found no reason to object. “Very well. So long as it remains within the bounds of propriety.”
He turned back to Elizabeth, offering a slight bow. “Goodbye, Elizabeth.”
She curtsied, eyes alight. “Goodbye, William.”
When the door closed behind him, Elizabeth clutching her new treasure, looked up and said softly, “I told you he’d return.”
Chapter 4: Dinner With the Gardiners
The following morning, precisely at seven o’clock, the butler knocked softly at the stillroom door before stepping aside to admit Mr. Darcy. He entered with the crisp punctuality of a man accustomed to discipline, his dark coat speckled with early dew and a modest air of anticipation about him.
Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth were both aproned and elbow-deep in their respective tasks. Elizabeth stood at the worktable, pestle in hand, working steadily at a mass of macerated leaves, while Mrs. Gardiner stirred a steaming decoction of willow bark on the small wood-burning stove.
At the sight of him, both women looked up. Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy. You are just in time. We’ve saved the very best duty for you.”
