“I will not,” he said decisively.
“Very well. Mr. Fitzwilliam, would you send . . .” She stopped and considered the injury again. “Mrs. Keller. Would you ask a maid to fetch Mrs. Keller down here for me?”
Mr. Fitzwilliam eyed them both but did as she asked, leaving the door open as he stepped into the hall.
“These wounds do not usually bleed so much, nor are they typically as deep,” she said quietly. “Did you cut it again on the carriage?”
He shrugged. “I cannot say. I was not paying attention to my hand. It is possible.”
“Likely, I think. It will require a few stitches.”
He groaned a little. “I do not want the fuss of calling for a surgeon. Your father is already irritated with me, and I should never be done with Fitzwilliam’s remarks.”
She laughed a little. “There is no need. I cannot set bones, but I can stitch superficial wounds such as this. Jane is able, too, though she does not like it. Mrs. Keller, however, will serve as both our chaperone and your surgeon today. She sews the neatest stitches I have ever seen.”
“The governess?” he asked, incredulous.
Elizabeth’s ire flared, and she did not keep it under good regulation. Mrs. Keller was a treasure, and she would not allow anyone to question her competence. “Yes. Our governess, who is the widow of an officer and who assisted my mother in nursing my father’s men. Our governess, who has raised five young women not inclined to idleness. Our governess . . .”
“Peace!” he cried with a short laugh. “I am persuaded.” He gazed at her intently, and Elizabeth felt her skin prickle as though lightning had hit the ground nearby. With some effort, Elizabeth pressed her lips together and waited.
Mr. Darcy shook his head. “I believe I am convinced that you and your sisters could defeat Napoleon himself in a year’s time.”
“Six months at most,” she fired back, and then grinned impishly. “But do not tell my father I said so.”
“I will keep your secret,” Mr. Darcy assured her.
“You are very wise,” she replied teasingly, and then sobered. “Now, hold your hand over the basin. I need to clean the wound before Mrs. Keller arrives.”
Miss Elizabeth gathered the detritus of their work and slipped out the door. “I shall return shortly.”
“I thank you, Mrs. Keller,” Darcy said politely when they were alone. His palm still smarted, first from the insult of the spirits and now the sickening tug of the stitches, but Miss Elizabeth had been correct about her governess. Mrs. Keller could have been an excellent surgeon, had she been a man. It helped, he supposed, that she had once been an officer’s wife.
“You are very welcome, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Keller said. “You must not use that hand for several days, and do not allow the stitches to become wet.” She finished tying off the dressing. “It should heal well, though there may be a slight scar.” She gave him a dubious look. “I doubt it will be the first.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“You military men,” she said, almost affectionately. “Always in some scrape or another. My late husband, God rest his soul, could not stay out of trouble for a week together.” She busied herself with putting items back on the shelf. “Yet I would not have had him any different.”
“No, I imagine not. We are not men made for sitting at a desk,” Darcy agreed.
“Yet it sounds as though that is the life you will soon live,” Mrs. Keller replied. “We do what we are called to do, no?”
Darcy considered that. “Did you ever see yourself as a governess?”
“Oh, such a question!” she exclaimed laughingly. “No, bless you, Mr. Darcy. I never expected to be a governess at all, and certainly not to five young ladies. But they are so dear, every last one of them. I was widowed when Mrs. Bennet was near her confinement with Miss Mary. She asked whether I might consider assisting her. Well, she was such a dear woman, and my Cecil thought so highly of the general, I did not see how I could refuse. There was no one left to wait at home for, you know. Miss Jane was very sweet and Miss Elizabeth such a curious child.”
Darcy chuckled. Yes, he could imagine Miss Elizabeth being rather active in her youth. “May I help you with anything here, Mrs. Keller?”
“No, Mr. Darcy, but I thank you.” Her eyes were gentle as they beheld him. “Your size concerned me, I will admit, but you were as steady as a rock. Some men cannot abide the feel of the needle.”
“I will not say it was a pleasure, madam.”
She smiled and shook her head. “No cursing or howling as though you were being burnt at the stake, though. It made my work easier.”
He would never have offered such a display. Not in front of two women, and certainly not when one of those women was Miss Elizabeth. “Well,” Darcy said, rising from the chair where she had placed him, “you are a great deal gentler than the surgeon, Mrs. Keller. Perhaps it is not my bravery after all, but your skill.”
She pursed her lips. “You are every bit the flatterer your cousin is, sir. I see it now. It is the quiet ones you must keep your eyes on.”