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William hesitated only a second, knowing he would have to be honest with the doctor. “I was holding her hand and unconsciously made a circle with my thumb on the back of it. She looked down to follow the movement. Seeing this, I raised her hand to bestow a kiss, and she followed my actions.”

The grey haired physician studied his long-time friend and sometime patient for a few seconds. “May I ask a personal question, Fitzwilliam?”

William teased the man who had treated him since childhood. “Have you ever asked any other kind?” Then throwing up his hands, he replied, “If it will help Elizabeth.”

“Does she care for you as much as you care for her?” He watched William’s face flush.

“Her sister assured me that she does. I had no chance to discover the truth of it before this tragedy happened.”

“And she began to focus on you, your touches, even though you told me earlier that she grew agitated when any man came near her.”

William nodded. “After she clearly had figured out who I was, she was never afraid of me. In fact, she clung to me.”

“That seems reasonable. With my work on head injuries, I have observed that my patients usually respond to someone who loves them or with whom they were in love, more often than to other relatives or just a caregiver.”

“What do you make of Elizabeth’s injuries?”

“In my opinion, she was debilitated by two things—something she witnessed and the bullet that grazed her head. Though a head wound such as she suffered can cause shock initially, I truly believe that because the wound was not deep, there will be no lasting damage, but the possibility of both happening at once could explain why she is so troubled.” He looked back to see the worry on William’s face and walking over to him, slid an arm around the younger man’s shoulder.

“Nevertheless, we have had great success with this type of injury. I am convinced we can help her overcome this adversity if she is given the correct help. We could admit her to the clinic that Callahan and I operate, but that would not be appropriate as it houses soldiers.”

William was already shaking his head. “I will care for her at Pemberley. Nothing will be overlooked in her treatment.”

William’s resolve impressed the physician, but he had to be pragmatic. “I believe you will try with all your heart, Fitzwilliam, but you have no idea what it will involve, the extent to which you must devote yourself to the task. Are you willing to let your family, your business affairs, your pleasure, even Pemberley, become secondary to implementing her recovery?”

“Elizabeth is everything to me. I will do whatever is necessary, for however long it takes, to see her well again.”

Staring into his young friends eyes, Mr. Towson recognised the determination needed for this type of commitment and nodded.

“Tell me what I am I to do,” William pleaded.

“The most essential thing you must do is dedicate as much time as possible to being with her. These patients have returned to an earlier stage of life, unable to handle reality. You must stimulate her senses, making her focus on the world outside, even if it is just having her sit beside you as you read aloud or as you answer your correspondence. Ask her opinion, though she may not answer. Speak to her as though it were a two-sided conversation. Point out a new rose or a starry sky. Make her focus!”

“Are there things that I should not do?”

“Yes. Try never to let her see you frustrated, angry, or dejected, if possible. She needs for you to be happy and encouraging. Never let her hear anyone say she will not recover. She may not be able to speak at the present, but I am certain that she is listening. Do not hurt her feelings, as any blow at this stage would be twice the grief.”

The kind physician looked away. “I suppose that she has seen enough of that already.”

Shaking off his gloomy thoughts, he continued. “I apologize. I have seen so many individuals with this type of injury that sometimes it boggles the mind to think what they have been through.”

“I can only imagine,” William ventured. He continued after some hesitation, “I must ask, though, are there those who do not recover?”

“There are some. But I do not believe this will be her fate—not with you by her side.” William could not help but smile.

“However,” Mr. Towson cautioned, “do not undertake this challenge unless you can do it wholeheartedly, fully believing that she will recover. Your faith will have to sustain her until she can have faith in herself. She shall rely on your belief in her. Tell her she is going to be well, that you have faith in her ability to recover, and if it be true, tell her you love her. Love works miracles for which no man of science can account.”

William replied soberly, “I shall endeavour always to remember that.”

“It would serve you well in every aspect of your life. Now, if she is going to be at Pemberley, I suppose we shall handle her progress by correspondence. Of course, I might be talked into visiting once or twice to observe her.” His smile was warm and wide. “I did so enjoy visiting when your father was alive. He used to invite me to all the hunts.”

William looked down, ill at ease. “I am sorry I have not continued his hospitality. After Father died, I was not in the mood for company for many years, and I have just returned from two years out of the country.”

“I know. I have heard the laments of my wife and her sisters over your sudden absence from the balls and dinner parties in Town. They had great hopes for their unmarried nieces and daughters.” The physician chuckled as William smiled and looked down, embarrassed. “At least, it seems you may have been better occupied outside England.”

It did not go unnoticed that William’s smile faded. “Things are not always as they seem.”

The wise old physician nodded, grabbing his bag and preparing to leave, he squeezed William’s shoulder. “Well said, my boy. Well said.”