Create Your Own JAFF Adventure – Part 14

Thanks for joining me on our Create Your Own JAFF Adventure! Just starting? You can catch up on previous posts collected here: https://austenvariations.com/category/sarah-courtney/ .

Feeling a little lost?  You can read a summary of what has happened so far in the story here: quick summary.

Last post, the Bingleys and Hursts came to the Gardiners’ for dinner. During the dinner, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Hurst, and Mrs. Hurst were all away from the group for at least a little while. The next morning, Mr. Darcy could not be awakened. The summoned physician believed it was a relapse, but Elizabeth noticed that the symptoms were similar to that of a laudanum overdose, and she suspected he was poisoned. She considered sending her cousin in to search Mr. Darcy’s room for evidence of laudanum, but the reader vote was that she should instead speak directly to Mr. Darcy about her suspicions, so we’ll start there this week!

If you’d prefer the third person version, you can read it here. There’s a link at the bottom of the intro part that will jump you to the newest part. Just don’t forget to come back and comment to tell me what Elizabeth should do next!

After politely declining your cousin’s help, you dress as quickly as you can and hurry out into the passage. Impatiently, you pace at the top of the stairs. When your uncle appears, you make as if you are going up the stairs to retrieve something from your room. “I will be down in a few minutes, Uncle,” you call to him as you pass on the stairs.

“Very good, my dear.” He continues down the stairs, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Fortunately, Mr. Darcy is the next to appear in the passage. Unfortunately, he is not alone. Although, come to think of it, perhaps including Colonel Fitzwilliam is not the worst idea ever. Mr. Darcy will likely tell him all, anyway, and his cousin might help encourage Mr. Darcy to take precautions.

“Mr. Darcy,” you say, halting before them, “I need to speak with you. It is urgent.”

“Yes?”

“I have been thinking about your recent . . . ailment. I don’t think it was truly a relapse at all.”

You can see Colonel Fitzwilliam stiffen behind Mr. Darcy.

“Why is that?” Mr. Darcy asks. He speaks softly, but you can hear something behind his words. Is he, too, suspicious?

“Because your symptoms, as described to me and as I later observed, resemble when my sister received a bit too much laudanum after an injury.”

Mr. Darcy breathes in sharply, and Colonel Fitzwilliam lets out a low whistle.

“By Jove,” the colonel says. “She has a point. I was so worried when you struggled to wake that I did not properly consider your symptoms. But now . . . I think Miss Bennet may be right. Certainly the physician seemed surprised at your sudden relapse.”

“Even now, I feel a little foggy,” Mr. Darcy admits. “Much like when I took laudanum after falling out of a tree and breaking my collar bone as a boy.”

“It was the only way your father could keep you in bed for a few days.” The colonel laughs, then immediately sobers. “But you haven’t been taking laudanum, have you?”

Mr. Darcy shakes his head. “I believe the physician may have dosed me with it the first night I arrived here but not since then. Certainly not last night.”

You swallow. “You mentioned that you were taken from Netherfield Park lands. And then last night—”

“Well!” Aunt Gardiner steps out into the passage, closing her door behind her. “Is this a secret conference?”

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughs. “Not at all, madam! May I escort you down the stairs to dinner? I believe your husband has already gone down.”

She accepts his arm cheerfully, and they begin down the stairs. You think to wait until they leave to finish your conversation with Mr. Darcy, but when your aunt reaches the bottom, she turns back, surprised to see you and Mr. Darcy still at the top.

“Mr. Darcy, are you well enough to come down? I can have a tray sent to your room if you prefer.”

“I am well enough, thank you.” Mr. Darcy smiles at her and offers you his arm. “May I say again how grateful I am for you and Mr. Gardiner? You have been the most gracious hosts.”

“We have been pleased to have you,” Aunt Gardiner says, her eyes flicking briefly to you. “Very pleased.”

You hold back your frustration. You will have to find a way to speak with Mr. Darcy after dinner now. At least you have been able to tell him the most important part. He and his cousin are clever, and they can connect the Bingley party’s presence with the laudanum dosing as well as you can.

Dinner is a quiet affair, especially in contrast to last night. Uncle Gardiner speaks of some business interests, with Colonel Fitzwilliam asking him questions and Mr. Darcy occasionally sharing a thought.

The ladies withdraw, and you do your best to make conversation with your aunt, but your mind is on Mr. Darcy and whether there will be a way to speak privately of your concerns when he joins you. Perhaps your anxiety is for naught. There are no Bingleys or Hursts in the house, and if they are responsible, then the risk is low, surely?

The gentlemen join you at last, but before you can decide the best approach, Miss Hammerlin bursts into the room.

“My apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, but I cannot find Andrew!”

Your aunt leaps to her feet. “Andrew?”

“When did you last see him?” your uncle barks.

“Just before dinner. Michael says he has no idea where Andrew has gone.”

“Have you checked under all the furniture in the nursery?” Aunt Gardiner says, rushing out of the room on Miss Hammerlin’s heels.

Uncle Gardiner is not far behind them. “I will make sure he has not gone out to the garden.”

“Should I check the street?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asks, but your aunt and uncle are already running through the house yelling Andrew’s name.

“I will go downstairs and ask the servants,” Mr. Darcy says.

“Wait!” you call before either man can leave. “I was talking to Andrew before dinner.”

Both men turn. “Do you have an idea where he might be?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asks.

“He was lamenting the loss of some of his favorite spots for playing hide and seek. He is accustomed to having both of your rooms to hide in.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam nods sharply. “Right. Darcy, you and I will start by searching our rooms. Including all of the places a small boy can hide.”

You follow them upstairs. While Andrew has not mentioned your bedchamber as a particular favorite hiding spot, it is always possible the boy has expanded his range. There are only a few places where he might conceal himself within your chamber, though, and you are just about to open your trunk when you hear a cry from the passage.

“He is here!” Colonel Fitzwilliam is shouting, and running footsteps pound on the stairs as the searchers converge on the colonel’s room.

You join the crowd just behind your aunt as you all parade your way into Colonel Fitzwilliam’s room, where he is lifting the bedskirts to reveal Andrew’s hiding place.

“Andrew, you naughty boy!” your aunt scolds. But the child in question is fast asleep under the colonel’s bed and does not hear the reprimand.

The colonel crouches down next to the bed and tenderly pulls the boy out, but even now, Andrew does not wake.

Your uncle steps closer. “Andrew! Andrew, wake up!” He drops to his knees, shaking his arm frantically. The boy does not stir.

Miss Hammerlin gives a cry of dismay.

Your blood grows cold. Why will he not wake?

Colonel Fitzwilliam puts a hand to the boy’s forehead, then his mouth. Releasing a breath, he lifts the boy up before handing him to his father. “He is warm and breathing,” he says.

“But why does he not wake?” your aunt cries.

The men exchange a glance.

“Laudanum,” you say. “First Mr. Darcy could not be wakened, now Andrew. Surely you all see that something horrid is happening. I do not believe Mr. Darcy’s symptoms were a relapse, but a dose of laudanum. And now Andrew—” Your voice cracks, and you can go no further.

“Laudanum?” Aunt Gardiner whispers. “No, no.” She wraps her arms around Andrew in your uncle’s arms. “What if he had too much? Edward!”

“I shall send for Mr. Bartley.” Uncle Gardiner backs out of the room, his son still clutched in his arms. “He must come immediately. Perhaps he has something to counter it.” His eyes flick to you. “When he is well, I want to speak with you, Lizzy.”

Your aunt and uncle hurry off in the direction of the nursery, Miss Hammerlin trailing just behind and wringing her hands.

“Where would the boy have encountered laudanum?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asks softly. “Not in my bedchamber, surely.”

“More likely in mine,” Mr. Darcy says.

Entering a gentleman’s bedchamber alone with two gentlemen is the last thing you should do. Yet your feet follow Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam almost against your will as they cross to Mr. Darcy’s room and enter. What does propriety matter at a time such as this?

There is nothing so obvious as an empty bottle labeled “laudanum” by Mr. Darcy’s table, not that you have expected as much. But there is something else.

“Your nighttime chocolate,” the colonel says, crossing to the little bedside table and examining the cup. He shakes his head. “Almost full. You did not drink it? I have never known you to go without chocolate before bed.”

Amused despite yourself, you smile at the thought of the somber Mr. Darcy drinking chocolate before bed every night.

“If you did not drink it,” you say, considering, “then it cannot be the—”

“I did,” Mr. Darcy clarifies. “Or, that is, I took a sip, or perhaps a few. I do not remember now. The chocolate was more bitter than usual, though, unusually so. I thought perhaps the cook had forgot the sugar, so I set it aside.”

You swallow. “This is all my fault.” Tears prick at your eyes, and your breaths feel shaky.

Both men turn to you. “Your fault?” Mr. Darcy asks, his eyes soft. “That cannot be.” He takes a step toward you, and you feel comforted. Even if he is wrong.

“Yes.” You look down. “The idea about the laudanum occurred to me earlier, and I went to check my aunt’s medicine closet to see if she had the laudanum there. Andrew came across me, and I . . . I mentioned that I had been wondering if Mr. Bartley had taken the bottle of laudanum for Mr. Darcy’s use. Andrew offered to check Mr. Darcy’s room for me. I declined, as it seemed more expedient to speak with you directly about my suspicions.”

“You believe Andrew went into Mr. Darcy’s room to search for the bottle anyway?” Colonel Fitzwilliam glances at his cousin. “It does seem like the sort of adventure that would appeal to a small boy.”

“Yes, exactly. I know he would never have drunk from the bottle itself, as my aunt has cautioned him against it, and he seemed aware of the danger, but perhaps the chocolate was too tempting? My aunt does not believe chocolate is healthful for children, so they rarely have the opportunity to taste it.”

“We can be grateful, I think, that the chocolate was too bitter for him to drink much.” Mr. Darcy leans over, looking down into the drink. “The laudanum may have been why it tasted so wrong.”

“But you only drank a little, you said, and we could not rouse you!” You wrap your arms around yourself, thinking of your little cousin. He is so much smaller than Mr. Darcy. How much did he drink? He could have had anywhere from a tiny taste to a large gulp.

“I do not think he could have had much,” Mr. Darcy says, examining the cup. “See how full it still is? I suspect he would have only tasted it—after all, he ought to have known he should not be drinking something left in someone else’s room. He would have known he was doing wrong.”

You can picture it. Andrew, glancing around the room to make sure nobody had come in, picking up the glass and daring to taste it.

It is a reassuring picture. But is it accurate, or is Mr. Darcy trying to comfort her? “But we cannot be sure.”

“Elizabeth.”

You look up, startled to hear Mr. Darcy call you by your Christian name.

“It was not your fault,” he says. He lightly touches your wrist, and the warmth of his hand makes tears spring to your eyes again. “You told Andrew not to search the room, and you would not have imagined that he would drink something there, anyway. You told us what you knew immediately.” His fingers stroke down your hand, leaving it tingling at his touch before he withdraws.

“Mr. Darcy!”

You both jump at the bark from the doorway. Mr. Gardiner is standing there, his face red with fury. “I believe, sir, there is a great deal you have not told me about with your situation. I would speak with you now in my study downstairs. You, too, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Lizzy, go see your aunt, she needs you.”

Uncle Gardiner marches down the stairs. Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam exchange a look and then follow him.

You take a step toward the nursery before hesitating.

When the danger was in the past—the attack on Mr. Darcy—or some general worry of Mr. Darcy for his sister, it seemed invasive to suggest that he tell the Gardiners his private concerns. But now that there is still clearly danger, Uncle Gardiner has to know all.

Mr. Darcy can tell him what he knows about being attacked on Netherfield grounds. He knows better than you do what enemies he has.

But Mr. Darcy previously did not seem suspicious of Mr. Bingley, despite the attack happening at Netherfield. And yet Mr. Bingley and his party were here to dinner the night the laudanum overdose took place. Nobody else in the house has any reason to poison Mr. Darcy. It must have been one of that party. Mr. Darcy is clever, and you suspect his cousin is, as well. They will tell this to Mr. Gardiner.

You take another step toward the nursery when something else occurs to you. Of the Netherfield party, both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst were apart from the group for a little while. Likely the gentlemen will remember this. But they do not know that Mrs. Hurst was as well, or that Miss Bingley was not. Do they need to know this immediately, though? Surely having a general suspicion of the Netherfield party is enough for now?

“Oh, there you are, Miss Bennet,” Miss Hammerlin says, rushing by. “Tell Mrs. Gardiner that I have gone downstairs for hot water and ipecac.”

What is more important? Making sure your uncle has all of the information, or obeying his order to help your aunt while Andrew is in grave danger? 

What should you do?

Should you:

go to help your aunt with Andrew while waiting for the physician

or

insert yourself into your uncle’s meeting with the gentlemen?

Let me know which option you vote for below!