Page 5 of Once He Made a Beginning

“Are you certain?”

He glared at his cousin. “Am I in the habit of speaking out of turn?”

“No, but...” His cousin’s voice was barely a whisper.

“But what?”

“I fear something is terribly amiss,” the colonel said.

“I shall summon the doctor!” the befuddled young woman exclaimed, heading for the door.

When the stranger was gone, Darcy asked, “Is she one of the nurses in charge of my care?”

“Hardly,” said the colonel.

“Then what was she doing here with the two of you? Her lingering presence hardly seemed proper.”

The colonel ran his fingers through his hair as though searching his mind for an explanation. Darcy could not help but wonder what his cousin was about, but knowing him as he did, he would put nothing past the colonel. If the young lady was not one of the physician’s nurses, then by what right did she have to be in his room? Was she one of Anne’s particular friends whose acquaintance he had yet to make? To the best of his knowledge, Anne had no such friendship. It was more likely that she was one of the colonel’s conquests. His cousin was no stranger to the female population in the nearby village, but he did not make a habit of bringing them to Rosings. Darcy wondered what was so special about this one.

The door swung open just as the colonel was about to speak. The physician said, “I will have to ask that all of you leave the room while I examine Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy nodded to the colonel. “We shall talk after my physician finishes examining me. I have questions that need answering, Cousin.”

The room began clearing of its guests. The stranger left with a quick curtsy and a particular glance, which Darcy could not decipher. He watched as the doctor produced various instruments and began his examination.

After a thorough review, the doctor finally put away his instruments, moving with the calm efficiency Darcy had come to expect over the years. Dr. Hamilton had attended Darcy and his family for as long as he could remember, his presence often a harbinger of either comforting assurance or disappointing news. In this instance, the lines of age on the doctor’s face seemed softened by relief rather than concern.

“You appear to be doing well,” Dr. Hamilton said, his voice carrying the steady reassurance of a man who had seen Darcy through numerous scrapes. “No doubt you will make a full recovery.”

Darcy exhaled, though the relief was fleeting as the lingering ache in his side reminded him of his condition. “Thank you, Dr. Hamilton,” he replied, flinching in pain as he attempted to sit upright. “How long, then, before I am out of this bed and back on my feet?”

The older man regarded him with the stern look Darcy knew all too well. “Patience, Mr. Darcy,” he said. “You have suffered a head wound, among other injuries. While I am confident in your recovery, it will take time. Possibly weeks—your body will tell you when it is ready, but you must not push it.”

Darcy’s frustration was palpable as he laid back against the pillows. “Weeks? Surely you overestimate the severity of my injuries,” he protested, his tone sharper than intended.

“Your ribs are badly bruised, your ankle sprained, and you have a severe wound on your leg. Add to that the concussion, and you are fortunate to be conscious at all—let alone sitting up,” Hamilton replied, his tone unwavering. “You must rest. The alternative is more severe setbacks.”

Darcy’s jaw tightened. He hated the thought of being confined to bed, reliant on others. “And what if I choose to disregard your advice?” he asked.

Hamilton raised an eyebrow, clearly familiar with Darcy’s impatience. “Your body needs time to heal, and if you push yourself too quickly, you will only worsen your condition. A few days of bed rest, at the least, then light activity. But do not expect to be back to your usual vigor at once.”

Darcy frowned, shifting uncomfortably. “I see,” he muttered. “Rest, then. And when might I be able to resume my usual routine?”

“Must I recount your injuries?” Hamilton asked, his tone firm. “No strenuous activity, no exertions, and absolutely no riding until your strength returns.”

Darcy grimaced. “I fear I shall go mad before then.”

Hamilton chuckled softly. “Patience, Mr. Darcy. I caution you to heed my advice, or you risk prolonging your recovery.”

Darcy sighed heavily, acknowledging the wisdom of his physician’s words, though he could not hide his frustration. “Very well,” he conceded. “I shall abide by your instructions—for now.”

Hamilton gave a satisfied nod. “Good. You will be on your feet soon enough. Now, if there is nothing else, I will take my leave.”

“Very well,” Darcy muttered, though his mind was already mulling over how long he would be confined to his bed. Wincing again as he shifted, he added, “In the meantime, I would like to see my cousin, the colonel.”

The doctor nodded and left. Darcy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The pain his body suffered paled compared to the tumult in his mind. His cousin’s reluctance to answer his earlier questions, combined with the mystery woman’s presence, consumed his thoughts.

I need to find out more about this strange woman my cousin has thrust into our midst, and I am determined to do so.