She could scarcely believe the words. “A suicide attempt?”
Darcy’s unguarded expression revealed equal bewilderment, but he quickly recovered his composure. “What led him to such a conclusion?”
“The location of the wounds — her wrists. And we found the knife still in her hands.”
“Perhaps she struggled with her attacker and wrested the knife from him before losing consciousness,” Jane offered.
“Perhaps,” Parrish said flatly. But no one, Jane included, appeared to think that explanation probable.
“What has Mrs. Parrish said?” Darcy asked.
“She was unconscious when the cook found her. She roused briefly while the surgeon attended her injuries, but had no recollection of events. She’s been sleeping since.”
“Did the surgeon also believe her wounds to be self-inflicted?”
“He was too tactful to say so outright, but I sensed by his manner that he did.”
A small cry from Louisa Hurst drew the party’s attention toward that quarter. “This is all just too terrible.” She dabbed dry eyes with a handkerchief to underscore her distress. “The scandal! That horrible constable and the surgeon are no doubt even now gadding about town trumpeting the news. None of us will be able to show our faces in society again.”
Ah, yes — the scandal. Of course that would be uppermost in Mrs. Hurst’s thoughts while her sister lay bleeding into her bandages. Elizabeth was no stranger to the disgrace into which younger sisters could plunge their relations, but she liked to think that even during the Wickhams’ elopement she’d maintained concern for Lydia’s well-being along with the family’s reputation. But then, she’d always known the Bingley sisters to demonstrate different priorities. She wondered anew that Charles, whose face registered a blend of sadness and disgust at Louisa’s outburst, had sprung from the same stock.
After an embarrassed silence, Darcy continued as if the utterance had never taken place. “What were your own observations last night?” he asked Parrish.
“Very few, I’m sorry to say. Professor Randolph joined us for dinner but did not stay late. Once he departed, Caroline retired early — as you know, she hasn’t been feeling quite herself these past few days. I grew restless and went down to White’s, where I wound up in a political debate the others wouldn’t let drop. By the time I returned, it was nearly five in the morning, and I no sooner reached my bedchamber than Cook discovered Mrs. Parrish on the kitchen floor. I sent one man for the surgeon, another for the constable, and did my best to staunch her wounds while awaiting their arrival.”
Bingley, who had been slowly shaking his head in disbelief during Parrish’s narrative, threw himself into a chair and rubbed his forehead. “I just don’t understand this. Less than a week ago, my sister was the happiest woman on earth, and now she’s tried to — to — it’s so awful, I can’t even say it!”
“It was even worse to behold,” Parrish said quietly.
“What did you mean about her not feeling quite herself lately?” Bingley asked. “Has she been ill?”
“There have been episodes—” Parrish looked to Elizabeth and Darcy. “Your friends can bear witness. Caroline’s behavior has been erratic. Sleepwalking, losing control of her horse, trouble remembering events.”
“Good grief! Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I hoped it would pass, or that things were not as they seemed. But this latest incident…” He leaned toward Bingley, elbows on his knees, fingers forming a pyramid. “Charles, I understand this is information a family wouldn’t wish to share with a young woman’s suitors. But Caroline is my wife now. I need to know — has she a history of unusual actions? Behavior that suggests a troubled mind?”
“No — I tell you, this is not like her at all. I am most distressed!”
“As am I. It grieves me to see—” Parrish cut his words short at the butler’s entrance. Not, Elizabeth supposed, that there were many secrets about the household’s mistress unknown to the servants at this point.
“Professor Randolph has arrived, sir.”
“Show him in.”
Elizabeth wondered that Parrish would welcome the intrusion into their family council of a person so unconnected to Caroline. The expressions of the others revealed they were of like mind. The unfortunate professor therefore entered a room oppressively silent.
He appeared, however, not to notice. He nodded in brief acknowledgment to the assembly, then crossed to their host. “I came as soon as I received your summons. What has happened, and how can I help?”
That Parrish had actually requested Randolph’s presence amazed Elizabeth still more. They must be intimate acquaintances indeed for Parrish to reveal to him the details of Caroline’s recent behavior. Perhaps Parrish sought the moral support of his own friend in the midst of this conference with his new wife’s family.
As if answering the unspoken question, Parrish addressed the party. “I asked Randolph to come because I value his opinions and connections as a man of science. Though he has not directly studied nervous disorders, he has colleagues who specialize in that field, and may know of someone who can help restore my wife to herself.”
“You are most welcome indeed, sir,” said Bingley. “I hope my sister benefits from your attention.”
“Though I’ve not yet heard the particulars, I hope I may be of service.”
Randolph listened solemnly to Parrish as he described Caroline’s unusual activities and demeanor since the wedding. When the narrative concluded, the professor, like Parrish, enquired whether Bingley or the others were aware of previous occurrences. All denied knowledge of any such behavior until now.
He pondered their replies a moment. “Has the lady resided in London long?”
“Off and on since our father’s death a couple years ago,” Bingley said. “Before her marriage, Caroline stayed with our sister, Louisa, and Mr. Hurst in their townhouse when she wasn’t helping me oversee domestic matters at Netherfield. That’s my country household.”
“Did London agree with her?”
“Oh, yes!” said Mrs. Hurst. “She’s quite popular here in town — you saw how many friends attended the wedding. When she stays with us, not a day goes by without an invitation arriving, or Caroline making a social call.”
“And Netherfield — was she comfortable there?”
Bingley suddenly appeared uncertain. “She always seemed so to me.”
Louisa cleared her throat. “She did find the society a bit — shall we say — confining.”
“I don’t know why,” replied Bingley. “She never complained about country society during our visits to Darcy’s estate.”
Elizabeth bit her lip and deliberately avoided making eye contact with Jane.
“Have you had many callers here since the wedding?”
“A fair number,” Parrish said. “Most of my wife’s friends are in London presently, and I haven’t discouraged visitors as I didn’t want anything to appear amiss.”
Randolph removed his spectacles and wiped them with a handkerchief. “From what you have told me, and from my own observations yesterday at dinner, I think perhaps Mrs. Parrish is simply suffering from nervous exhaustion resulting from the excitement of the wedding and the weight of her social obligations. My advice is to remove her from London to a quieter setting where she can catch her breath.”
“Such as Netherfield?” Bingley asked.
“Actually, I have another suggestion.” He returned the eyeglasses to his face, where they immediately slipped halfway down the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Parrish’s plantation, Mont Joyau. It’s a beautiful setting. Very peaceful, and at this time of year the weather will be far more pleasant than at Netherfield. New Orleans is close enough to offer interesting society, amusements, and other benefits of a large city as she feels up to circulating, yet she won’t be in the middle of the bustle as she is here.”
“Mont Joyau?” Parrish perked up; some of the defeat left his countenance. “Mont Joyau — of course! I like that idea, Randolph. I should have thought of it myself. What better place to mend one’s spirit? Caroline could see where I grew up. And I could roam its fields once more before selling it.”
“Mont Joyau holds an additional advantage,” Randolph continued. “I have a colleague, Dr. Lancaster, who lives in New Orleans and specializes in nervous disorders. He would be able to assist and perhaps hasten Mrs. Parrish’s recovery.”
“Indeed?” Parrish’s brows rose. “I had no idea you were so well connected, Randolph.”
