Page 13 of Her Brother's Keeper
He gave her a look, and did not release the lad. “I did not mean to insult him or your efforts. I am trying to understand.”
Her shoulders slumped, her brief ire extinguished, and he was almost sorry for it. He would much rather have her snapping at him than feeling defeated.
“It is as if he—he lives in a world all his own, and I must visit him there, for he will seldom enter mine. It…it is difficult to explain. But I know he is intelligent, I know it, and I feel as if should I hold that unknown key to unlocking his mind, hewouldunderstand.”
He glanced over at her; all her attention now was upon her brother. In her current mood of despairing introspection, he would probably gain more answers than she might usually provide. There were other temptations to notice—her perfect skin, the thick waves of her hair which had escaped her control about as easily as had Edward.Devil take it but she was pretty!“How is it that you live out here, alone with him?”
She sighed. “Loud noises disturb Neddy to a greater degree than I believe they do for most. My sister, Mary, loves to play the pianoforte. She is very devoted to her music;however, she does not easily acquire the skills she hopes for. About six months ago, in her determination to learn a particularly difficult piece, she practised constantly—over and over, hitting the keys in a manner that…was very discordant. Oh! It requires so much patience when she takes up a new piece.”
He smiled. “That sounds like a very good reason to move a mile away. Surely she has mastered the song by now, however?”
She did not return his smile. “One afternoon, after she unceasingly played the same wrong key in the same exact wrong place, Neddy chucked one of my mother’s porcelain gewgaws at the pianoforte; frankly, it was a response most of us were feeling, although more circumspectly. He was promptly taken upstairs, to the nursery, but…oh, Mr Philips was in a terrible frame—he is never patient, but he is careful, in the presence of my mother, of how he criticises her daughters. He followed us up to the nursery and ordered Neddy to apologise.”
“Allow me to guess—he could not.”
“No. So he slapped him, hitting him again and again, which naturally did nothing to stop Neddy’s cries. What is more…hewantedto hit Neddy. HeknewNeddy did not understand why he was being struck. He did not care. All my efforts to make him stop were futile. He would not, and so I grabbed the fireplace poker, and I hithimwith it. Not hard enough, though. Enraged, he turned on me, and seized the poker. I do not know what he would have done, but fortunately, all the servants, Jane, and my mother came running in, finally responding to my cries, and in front of such an audience, he stood down. I picked up Neddy and took him to Fox Hollow, and I have been here ever since.”
Darcy was horrified. He knew there were plenty of parentswho whipped their children, and he supposed not every punishment was justified…but this child in his arms, now laughing up at a bird winging from branch to branch, was especially innocent. He could see, now, why she was so determined to protect Edward, and so worried she could not. If he could not be taught to regulate his temper, Philips could rationalise any punishment whatsoever. “Philips is, plainly, a foul swine. What does your mother say about this?”
“When it first happened, she was furious with her brother-in-law. Neddy’s cheeks were bruised from the blows, and I told her that if she wished for her son to live to adulthood, it was wisest to remove him from Mr Philips’s vicinity. She even supported me in the idea. Neddy is thetruemaster of Longbourn. The property is entailed. If anything happens to him before the entail can be broken, the property goes to a distant cousin we have never even met.”
“She is not still angry with her brother-in-law?”
“Aunt Philips has had plenty of time to convince her that she did not see what she thought she did, that I was dramatic and made everything worse with my hysterics—that, even, I was the one who behaved poorly, since I hit my uncle with the poker, and that I ought to return Neddy to them.”
“No one has managed to force you to do that.”
“Mr Goulding is Neddy’s guardian, and he dislikes Mr Philips. He let me do as I wished.”
Ah. Goulding. The awful plot had just thickened.
“It is a campaign,” she continued, “a slow and subtle one. Mr Philips has no authority and my mother has no…no gumption, I guess you might say. When pressed too hard, she falls to pieces. My aunt Philips, however, has enough nerve for both of them. She tells anyone who will listen that I am a shrew, addicted to melodrama, and think too highly of myself. Ihave Mrs Finch here for propriety’s sake, but she is too elderly to be an ideal chaperon and everyone is aware of it.”
“Did you have a ride home from the assembly? I looked for you, to ensure you had transport, but could not find you.”
Her answer was a little sigh. Fury filled him, that Philips was so uncaring, but surely there were others who would have helped her? As if he had spoken the question aloud, she answered it.
“People have begun to look at me askance. Jane is the best of sisters, always, and can even, at times, help soften my mother’s opinions, but there is no doubt my reputation has suffered. There are those who would have taken my part, but more and more are siding with my uncle. Now that Mr Goulding is ill, especially if he does not recover quickly, Mr Philips will push for the power he lacks.”
“He cannot hope to defeat a gentleman such as Goulding in Chancery. As long as he lives, Philips will not dare try. Is there no one else of reputation who would stand for Edward?”
“No,” she said bitterly. “I do not doubt that sooner or later Mr Philips will be using Neddy’s inheritance to pay for his own ambitions at Chancery.”
“Skil!” Edward shouted, looking up.
Elizabeth smiled at last. “Yes, sweetheart. That was a squirrel. Very good.”
“Skil!” The child began his babbling again, but he had spoken—twice now. He could speak when something interested him enough to emerge from whatever muddle he lived within.
They approached Fox Hollow’s porch, and Edward wriggled to be put down. His sister waited until the front door was open before she nodded her agreement, and he gently set thechild onto the porch. Obediently, Edward trotted inside; Elizabeth looked back over her shoulder.
“Thank you, Mr Darcy, for your assistance this morning. It was much appreciated.”
The veil of civility had descended; she was back to being the polite young lady she had been raised up to be, and personal revelations were finished. Misery haunted her eyes, however.
“You are welcome,” he said gravely. “Farewell, Miss Elizabeth, young Master Bennet.” He bowed, and turned away.
He did not want to leave her. He made himself do it regardless. He heard neither the click of the latch nor the shutting of the door behind him, as if she watched him go.
