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Just as she had predicted, Mr. Harwell arrived in the afternoon to change her bandages. While he was there, her mother had insisted it was time that Jocelyn change into a day dress rather than a dressing gown and robe. Though he had “agreed” that such would be more ideal, the surgeon instructed, “Not until the sleeve of the day dress is cut away. It would be too difficult for your daughter to move her arm in and out of the dress just to save her demureness. The robe can be draped over her shoulder and fastened about her to keep her modesty. Though it is not ideal, such is best for the time being. I do believe we can provide her a sling rather than wrapping her arm to her body so as to prevent movement.”

Her mother said, “My daughter has sung your praises, sir.”

Harwell winked at Jocelyn. “I cannot claim all the credit your Miss Lambert’s . . .”

Jocelyn prevented his compliment before her mother could address the necessary information. “My family name is ‘Romfield.’”

Harwell presented her a puzzled look. “I apologize, Miss Romfield.”

“It is a long story, but I am Miss Romfield. My parents are Lord and Lady Romfield.”

“My honor, my lady,” he said with a bow directed to first her mother and then her.

Her mother said, “It is I who owes you my honor, sir. You brought my daughter back from the brink of death,” her mother said with an aristocratic nod of her head.

“Mr. Darcy took excellent care of Miss Romfield before I arrived, and your daughter did her own bit of fighting to live.”

“When we set out for Yorkshire, we had no idea if our daughter would be alive when we reached Babbington Hall. All we knew was she had been shot,” her mother explained as tears again pooled in her eyes.

“I am grieved you were so beset upon,” Harwell said. “Yet, all is well now, and it is a time to rejoice.” He asked tentatively, “Is Colonel Fitzwilliam aware of your recovery and your true name? Pardon, if I am too outspoken, but I could not help but to overhear the colonel’s pleas for your survival before he set out to locate Mr. Jennings. It was the evening I was summoned to tend you for the first time.”

“I could hear him,” Jocelyn admitted, “but the laudanum would not permit me to respond.” She sighed heavily. “To answer your unspoken part of the question, the colonel does not know I am Miss Romfield, but he is aware that his family and mine have arranged a marriage between him and Miss Jocelyn Romfield.”

Harwell barked a laugh. “I hope I am here when the colonel returns. It will be grand to view his face when he learns the woman to whom he wishes to pledge himself is the same woman his parents wish him to marry.”

Jocelyn frowned. “Please do not tell others of this arrangement. I must speak to him first.”

“It will be tempting to share your secret, but I will be close-mouthed. Yet, please remember me once you are Mrs. Colonel Fitzwilliam. I am in need of a patron, and, if you and the colonel are to continue to care for the Jennings children, you will require a physician to tend their broken bones and broken hearts.”

“Who says, even if we marry, that the colonel and I will live at Babbington? Their mother is married to the colonel’s brother. It would be natural for them to remain with their mother,” she reasoned.

“But the boy should be at his family’s estate,” Harwell argued. “Mr. Jennings corrupted the trust of the estate’s tenants, the village, and the area, as a whole. The British aristocracy developed a system where every person under its care depended on the master of the estate. The boy cannot simply walk away for years and expect the world to keep on keeping on. The estate will suffer. The village also. I have already witnessed the hope rising in the hearts of those in the community, for the boy, under your supervision and that of the colonel and Mr. Darcy, has displayed more true character than Jennings ever has. He is his late father, but proving to be a better version of the late lord at his age. I was most impressed in his devotion to your recovery. Such is not often displayed in the young, who only think of their needs, as we saw in his sisters.”

“I know little about overseeing a house, and I doubt the colonel can speak with any confidence on running an estate,” she said with doubt marking her tone.

“Then it is excellent that the colonel’s loyal cousin owns one of the largest and most well-run estates in this great country, and the last time I looked you have a steady friend in the man’s wife. The household once again has a competent staff in place, and you would have no need to feel as if you could not be supported in your efforts. Just as they want the boy to succeed, I imagine the same could be said of you and the colonel. As to the gentleman, if he can train green-rooted farmers and store clerks to be a part of one of the most well-run armies in the world, he can inspire a bunch of tenant farmers to do as he suggests. You both possess well-trained minds and know something of encouraging expectations of others. I do not see a reason not to make the attempt. You both love the boy, do you not?”

“Yes,” she said simply, before asking, “Why do you care?”

“Some would think I have overreached my influence over you, as well as having overstepped my position. Yet, my services make me essential while still being a person looking in through a ‘foggy’ window of life. Such said, as I see it, if Babbington Hall and the young lord thrives, then this community thrives. New businesses. New ideas. Better roads. People thinking that medicine matters and is not some sort of witchcraft. Perhaps an apothecary or two. More than one midwife. Bigger ideas. Larger hopes. It could all begin with you. Such is what Mr. Darcy found in his wife. Have you held a sincere conversation with the lady regarding her place in Mr. Darcy’s life? Theirs is an unusual, but most inspiring, joining.”

“The lady has agreed to speak to my parents on something similar. I asked if I might sit in on the conversation, but I did not consider all she shared as necessary for me.” She looked hard upon him, as if to study his reasoning. “May I ask why you admire the Darcys so?”

He shrugged as he returned his instruments to his well-arranged bag. “You were well under the effects of the laudanum when I first arrived at the manor so you did not likely hear me speak my gratitude to Mr. Darcy, for his father agreed to pay the expenses of nearly two dozen medical students if they would make the promise to finish their studies and return to England’s northern shires to practice for at least five years, after the necessary apprenticeship. I was one of those students. I am praying George Darcy’s son, and even perhaps the late Mr. Darcy’s nephew, will possess such vision. England requires forward-looking men to design the future equally as well as backward -ooking men to save our history.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

And so, each day while young Bennet Darcy napped in the afternoon, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy sat in a chair before a large table in the estate’s library and discussed how the lady and Mr. Darcy had mapped out a plan for their beloved estate’s future. Her parents and Jocelyn had known awe with the woman’s knowledge of a working estate, though Jocelyn admitted, if only to herself, she had felt more than a bit overwhelmed with how easily Mrs. Darcy spoke of ideas once only accepted in a man’s realm.

“I am amazed with how well you acclimated to Mr. Darcy’s world,” her mother had said. “You must have grown up with your mother being a slave to your education.”

“Not at all. Mrs. Bennet simply placed each of her daughters in the way of eligible gentlemen,” Mrs. Darcy said with a chuckle. “Do not misunderstand me, my parents permitted us to enjoy whatever subjects most interested us. My father indulged me more than he did the others, but, you see, I was to be the son to inherit the estate. Instead of knowing disappointment, Mr. Bennet permitted me to study what he loved best: history and architecture and literature. I followed him about the home farm and kept him amused with what I thought were witty quips. When you take his acquaintance, you will understand more clearly. Our Mary was the one whose studies centered upon the scriptures; therefore, she is happily married to a rector in Derbyshire. Our Kitty, named Katherine, loves anything to do with fashion. She has a great eye for the simplest of adjustments that turn an everyday dress to something even Lady Jersey would wear. In fact, Lady Jersey has worn one of our Kitty’s designs, but my younger sister concentrates on her work while preparing to be a baroness in the autumn. My eldest sister Jane is quite the prettiest of us all, as well as being the kindest. Fortunately, she married a man equally as amiable. So, placing us in the way of eligible gentlemen served Mrs. Bennet’s plan all along. She has approved of all her daughters’ choices, except for my dear Mr. Darcy.”

“How could Mrs. Bennet disapprove of Mr. Darcy?” Jocelyn’s mother asked in shock.

Mrs. Darcy said, “In my mother’s defense, my dear husband made an unforgiving remark regarding me at a public assembly.”