The Trouble with Mr. Darcy by Sharon Lathan Page A

more than what would be expected with two young children, one who was quite demanding. Darcy’s natural reticence and intense urge for privacy did not always foster blunt communication, even as close as they now were. There were many topics Darcy did not hesitate to discuss with his uncle, but his marriage, which he perceived as sacred and solely his responsibility to deal with, was not one of them. George respected this, and aside from the gentle teasing that brought him such pleasure as Darcy persisted in flushing and stammering when the playful topics were tendered, he avoided broaching anything too intimate. Of course, until now there had been no need, since his niece and nephew appeared to possess a relationship uncommon in its intensity and felicity.
    Thus, due to his busy schedule and faith in their relationship, George had remained ignorant as to the seriousness of Lizzy’s status. A catastrophe in Chesterfield calling for emergency assistance had kept him away for Alexander’s birthday and the week following. Upon his return to Pemberley, the exhausted physician was flabbergasted by what he discovered.
    Without hesitation, Dr. Darcy decided to take action, even at the risk of offending his proud nephew. However, he first dealt with Lizzy. Her predicament was at a critical level and needed direct, immediate intervention.
    As a physician, he diagnosed Lizzy’s illness instantly, recognizing it as a rare infirmity seen from time to time after the birth of a child. No one knew the cause, although speculation was rife. Most judged it a failing in the mother, if they acknowledged it at all, but George did not ascribe to that philosophy. He had observed dozens of decent, loving women succumb to bizarre, uncontrollable emotional breakdowns after birth and did not believe it an inherent flaw in their character.
    He was circumspect in his approach with Elizabeth, partly because it was necessary to ascertain the scope of her condition but also because he understood how fragile her emotions. One wrong move and the essential trust would be gone. Fortunately, he was immensely skilled and within a couple of casual conversations over tea, she broke down. The seeming irreparable rift between she and her husband, who now rarely entered any room she was in and spent nearly every hour in the library or his study, acted as a strange catalyst toward candor. While on the one hand she sunk deeper into her misery, she also admitted to a serious problem.
    As guilty as George felt for not noting the sickness consuming his beloved niece, it was fortuitous. A month or even a week previous, Lizzy would probably not have listened to anything he said, despite his mastery in persuasion. The dire situation she now found herself in—with a beloved spouse who was disengaged—and her weariness remained all that propelled her to embrace anything the good doctor recommended.
    George enlisted the services of the relieved Mrs. Hanford, Mrs. Reynolds, and Marguerite, all of whom had observed the drama with heavy hearts. Thankful to be proactive in the matter, they gleefully took orders from Dr. Darcy. Finally they could be firm-handed, bossy actually, as they had not felt the liberty to do under Mr. Darcy’s confusing requests and Lizzy’s stubborn commands. There were several tonics and strong teas concocted by Dr. Darcy as a beginning treatment. Her diet was tightly stipulated, specific foods requested of the kitchen staff and demanded to be consumed whether Lizzy wished for them or not. Rest was requisite; long daily naps to be followed by walks in the brisk air as often as feasible. Personal hygiene was stressed. Last, but not least, was the forced abdication of her self-imposed obligations.
    This latter was the hardest to enforce. A careful balance of assuming tasks while watching closely for negative effects was imperative; one step too fast could lead to an emotional backslide, but the determined group of caretakers were diligent.
    The final