“Well, some discomfort is expected, especially when there is more than one child, but true pain is not the norm. I shall examine her thoroughly and let you know if I have any concerns.” Atlas promised.
“And I…shall speak with her privately, over some tea. Perhaps there is something else bothering her that she will not discuss with a man…even her husband.” Mary added as both men raised their eyebrows at her suggestion.
“What? Is that so absurd? I shall see her first, your exam may make her uncomfortable afterwards. A sisterly chat will allow me to observe her without probing.” Mary retorted and left the men staring at her back as she swept from the room.
Once she left, Atlas closed the door behind her and sank into a nearby chair. “It is useless to argue Charles, Mary always has her way.”
“It appears to be a Bennet family characteristic,” Bingley agreed as he offered Atlas a brandy while they awaited Mary’s return.
*****
Mary found her sister propped up on a chaise in her sitting room dozing with an unread book lying beside her. Upon first glance, she had to admit that Jane was positively enormous, larger than any other pregnant woman she had ever seen. Masking her face to her thoughts, Mary pulled an upholstered footstool over to where Jane reclined and began to massage her sister’s swollen feet.
“Oh my… that feels wonderful.” Jane murmured sleepily.
“Not much longer now.”
“It feels like forever. I don’t seem to be able to do anything but sleep lately.”
“Take advantage while you can, I suspect your sleep will be interrupted regularly once the babies arrive.”
Jane laughed softly, “Who would have thought that I would be blessed with twins? Marrying Charles was more happiness than I could have ever hoped, and now this…”
“But? You don’t seem happy for one who appears to have everything.”
“I just worry…”
“About? I know the nursery is finished, and two very competent nannies have been acquired. All that is left is the arrival of the little darlings.”
“Oh it is nothing like that, it’s just that I am so big… I can hardly bathe myself… what if my abdomen never goes back? Look at Mama…she has gotten so stout. What if Charles does not find me attractive once the babies are born? What if he regrets marrying me?”
Jane had begun to cry and Mary reached for a handkerchief while she struggled not to laugh. Jane had always been overly sensitive and reliant upon her appearance to save the Bennet women from financial ruin. Now that her social standing was secure, her fears had turned inward. Taking her hand, Mary did her best to calm Jane with practicality.
“Now Jane, Charles loves you… for your sweet disposition and kindness, not just your pretty face. Besides, you are young and healthy, there is no reason why you should not regain your figure later. Look at Lady Lucas… she’s had seven children and is thin as a rail. Besides, Mama indulges in too many sweets. If there is cake to be had, it has no sooner found its way to her mouth. With Lydia back at home, Mama will no doubt grow even larger.”
Brightening, Jane shifted her bulk into a more upright position. Perhaps she was overreacting and just feeling sorry for herself.
“I heard that Lydia was staying at Longbourn, but due to my impending confinement, I have yet to visit with her.”
“Would you like me to have her pay a call?”
Jane allowed herself a very uncharacteristic eye roll and shook her head. “Lydia is my sister, and for that reason alone, I love her. But for the present, I do not believe that I am quite up to her level of companionship.”
“I understand, perhaps once the babies are here.”
“That would be best.”
“Well, I believe that I have kept Dr. Sutton waiting below far too long. He will begin to believe that I have usurped his position as town physician.” Mary said as she tried to rise.
“Speaking of Dr. Sutton… what exactly are his intentions towards you?” Jane asked protectively.
“Intentions?” Mary replied innocently.
“Don’t try to fool me… I see how he looks at you, and there have been rumors.”
“Rumors? Surely only idle talk manufactured by bored biddies.”
“There have been comparisons to Lydia,” Jane warned.
“I promise, he has the most honorable intentions, but we have agreed to make no announcement at present… that is all I will say… and trust you to keep it to yourself,” Mary admitted shyly as she looked away from Jane’s inquisitive eyes.
“Who would I have to tell anyway? But, I promise, not even Charles will hear of this. However, I insist upon being your matron of honor,” Jane giggled as she enjoyed Mary’s embarrassment.
“You had better!” Mary demanded and went below to inform Atlas that his patient was waiting.
*****
Hours later, as Mary entered her room, she did not regret allowing her secret to be known to Jane. Aside from Lizzie, Jane was the only other of her sisters upon whom she could trust. Now, as she sought a brief rest before dinner, it was apparent that solace was not to be had as raised voices could be clearly heard through the wall adjoining the chamber that was occupied by Lydia and Wickham. Plopping heavily onto her bed, Mary closed her eyes, but even the pillow over her ears did little to drown out the noise.
~Three~
“Now George, you just do as planned and it will all work out. Leave Papa to me, Mama will make his life miserable until he does right by us. After all, it is hardly fair that Kitty has such a handsome dowry now. It is only proper that he should give me the same amount. Really… Papa should divide everything up by three. Once you have your pension as well, we shall be set up nicely.”
“Kitty was not supposed to tell you about her dowry. Your father can rescind it at any time. I don’t expect him to treat us so favorably… he still blames me for everything.”
“Oh pooh! He has probably forgotten by now, and besides, Kitty has always been my best confidant, Papa knows that. In her letters she was nearly bursting to show off her new status… as if being a spinster is anything so wonderful. I must do something about that while we are here. Perhaps one of the junior officers will take a fancy to her.”
“Don’t go starting that again. Your meddling has caused enough trouble in the past. I should not be called into the commandant’s office to be reprimanded for my wife’s behavior!”
“Oh George! Don’t be silly… and I have been doing quite a bit of thinking about my share of Longbourn…. Papa should really leave the estate to me. Kitty and Mary can have the money. If they never marry, they will need to live quietly somewhere… as spinsters do.”
“I would not get too comfortable with that idea.”
“Hmm… we will see. I don’t want to speak of it anymore today. Mary will be home soon, and she hears everything. Living with her was like having one’s personal ghost, always lurking about. The very thought of her makes my head ache. Do you have any more of your medicine? I need a bit to get me through dinner. My hands are already shaking from the pain.”
“Of course my dear… but just a bit. Too much can be dangerous. Perhaps you should rest a bit before dinner.”
Wickham produced a small blue bottle from his uniform coat and poured a small amount into a cup of cold tea and handed it to his wife, watching carefully as she drained the cup. Indeed, her hands were shaky, but soon, once the laudanum took its effect they would steady. Leaning her back on the bed, he kissed her forehead and adjusted the comforter around her shoulders. Lydia’s eyes soon drifted shut, hiding the pinpoint pupils and faint purplish tinge. Play the dutiful husband, he reminded himself. Play the part and all will be well. Soon, he would be secure… and minus one silly wife. He need only be patient.
*****
At first, Mary pulled the down pillow tighter around her ears in an effort to muffle the conversation in the next room, but it was futile. Never one to condone eavesdropping, but deciding that it really was not so if the parties involved cho
se to speak at a shout. Sadly, Mary was not a bit surprised by Lydia’s motives to return to Longbourn. Money had always had a way of leaving her hands the moment she had any. However, Lydia had some nerve thinking she was going to get Longbourn. Mary had never begrudged her youngest sibling an honest share of the money she had found. After all, it was only right. Jane and Lizzie had chosen to forgo theirs, despite her protests. It had been Papa’s decision not to include Lydia. He knew all too well about her spendthrift nature, nor did he trust Wickham to act on her behalf. Now, it would appear that Lydia had plans to use Mama in her schemes. Mama had always favored Lydia, spoiled her to a rotten end and interfering with any of Papa’s attempts at discipline. Mary worried how he would take this news… and she must tell him, but perhaps not just yet. Mr. Bennet had not been well recently. Pale, and complaining of aching bones, he had spent the majority of his days sequestered away in his library. When she had suggested that Atlas have a look at him, he had actually gotten angry and refused.
“I am just tired, that is all. It is bad enough that your mother orders me about…don’t you start doing so!” he had snapped and insisted he be left alone.
Surprised by this display, Mary had complied, but was determined to have her way if it persisted. Papa had a terrible habit of waiting until an ailment became dire before asking for assistance. The last time it had resulted in the draining of a sizeable boil and regular dressing changes, much to her father’s great embarrassment.
Deciding to wait, Mary would be carefully observing the actions of her sister and brother-in-law. They were up to something, and she would find out.
~Four~
One week later….
“If I have to look at one more case of the French Pox, I shall take up another line of work!” announced Dr. Atlas Sutton as he accepted a steaming cup of tea from Mary. He had just finished his first day as a medical officer in the King’s army. Nearly fifty soldiers had crossed the surgery threshold that day with various complaints in addition to the scheduled physicals.
“Conscripted, that’s what I was! What the devil was that Colonel Silverton doing all day? Not helping me one bit!” he ranted as he paced the private laboratory that doubled as his sitting room. It was the only place in which Mary and he could escape for a brief luncheon during the hectic office hours that were now held three days a week. It had been necessary to extend Mary’s time in the surgery as Atlas had been ordered to assist the army during its stay in Meryton. While she learned extremely fast, and worked tirelessly, many patients still required his opinion.
“Oh Atlas, it won’t be forever.” Mary soothed, but had to giggle at the memory of the first young sergeant who tried his best to tell her his ailment without offending her sensibilities. Eventually she had simply asked outright, much to their shock, if they had acquired their illness from a prostitute. It had been amusing, but rather disgusting at the same time. The rest of her hours had been spent dealing with the demands of Meryton’s residents. As Christmas was drawing near, the cold weather had sent many indoors for longer lengths of time. The close contact with others and lack of fresh air had increased the number of breathing complaints. Fortunately, most were easily dealt with the traditional herbal remedies, but she was exhausted.
“I did notice some strange coincidences amongst the general physicals, something that I will have to mention to Dr. Silverton.”
“Oh? What is that?”
“Quite a few had unusually high heart rates. Mr. Wickham included.”
Mary knew that a person’s heart beat would increase if they were nervous, and had been trained to count the beats according to the small watch she now kept pinned to her bodice. Mr. Wickham had good reason to be nervous now that he was back in Meryton. The shopkeepers had not forgotten that Mr. Bennet and Uncle Gardiner had paid his overdue accounts. Despite not having actually heard any uncharitable gossip, Mary knew the tongues were wagging about Lydia and Wickham’s unusually fast wedding. Fortunately, they did not have any children, so at least that was one rumor quashed.
“Is that a problem?”
“Sometimes… if it causes shortness of breath or dizziness. We cannot have soldiers fainting on the battlefield,” he joked.
“Wickham seems healthy… aside from his limp.”
“That is another thing… and perhaps it is not entirely ethical for me to discuss it with you, considering your relation to Lydia, but something is rather odd about his injury.”
A quiver of apprehension pricked at the base of Mary’s neck. She had not shared the conversation between Lydia and Wickham with Atlas. Over the past few days, she had not observed any unusual behavior. Lydia had kept to her room, often skipping breakfast, but that was not out of the ordinary. That girl would sleep half the day away if not for the opportunity to pay social calls. More than once Lydia had pleaded headaches to avoid any sort of household obligation. Mary had politely suggested that Lydia assist her with some minor tasks involved in the daily running of Longbourn, but the younger girl had flatly refused.
“Oh Mary… I simply cannot ruin my gowns. At Newcastle there were servants for that sort of thing. Why can’t you hire someone? Besides, my presence is required in welcoming the new officer’s wives. I must not appear fatigued or untidy, it would not reflect well on Wickham… surely you understand the demands of a military wife? Oh…. Sorry… you are still unmarried… ignorant of such things…”
Mary was indeed sorry… sorry that she had bothered to even ask. For a person so wanting to inherit an estate, Lydia had no realization of the responsibility involved. With her increased hours working at Altas’ surgery, she may have to allow for some additional staff. Mrs. Hill and Mrs. Kincaid were no longer young, and the one housemaid, was not enough. Perhaps two were necessary, and someone for the scullery. Resolving to place an advertisement, she had stopped at the post office before making her way to the clinic. Now, it would seem that the Wickhams were once again causing someone a problem.
“I thought it was a mis-healed back injury? Lydia said he was thrown a distance from the blast of cannon fire.”
“According to the report, he received only some scrapes and powder burns and actually walked away relatively unscathed. It wasn’t until nearly a week later that he complained of back pain and a numbness in his right leg.”
“Could it have been a delayed reaction? I have seen people come rushing out of house fires not realizing that they have been badly burned until hours later.”
“It is possible, but I could find no obvious injury. Unfortunately, very little is known about how the nerves that allow us to feel actually work. It makes it hard to gauge levels of pain. What is excruciating to one person, hardly bothers another…. At any rate, he was requesting morphine for the pain, which may have accounted for his elevated heartbeat. As for the others… at least a dozen men, it is rather curious to say the least.”
Mary decided not to comment. Her opinion of George Wickham was low enough already. This information only compounded her feelings, but she did not want to be the cause of another’s disdain for the man. If he was indeed injured permanently from his accident, she would not want to be the one to deny him some relief. However, the mention of morphine had made her pause. Was that the medicine that Lydia had requested from him for her headache? Mary knew that it was a highly addictive substance…one that her careless sister could easily misuse. Considering these thoughts, she idly drank her tea and discussed the rest of the day’s patients. Most had general complaints, or easily treated injuries.
“I do wish Mrs. Jenkins would keep young Billy out of the raspberry preserves. He always develops the most terrible rash. This time he was wheezing as well. One of these days, I fear it will kill him.” Mary relayed with a shake of her head.
“If you learn how to keep ten year old boys away from sweets, do let me know. I have enough time controlling myself,” Atlas added laughing, as he began to clear away the tea things. It had been a long tiring day, and he desperately wanted a bath and some sle
ep. Mary, stretching as she made no effort to suppress a yawn, rose to take her own leave. Walking her to where her small carriage was waiting, Atlas handed her up as a young soldier waved frantically at them as he ran in the direction of the surgery.
“Dr. Sutton! Dr. Sutton! I am so glad to have found you! There is an emergency at the barracks! Come quick!” he rasped, trying to regain his breath from the exertion.
“Where is Dr. Silverton? Why has he not been called?” Atlas asked with a hint of irritation.
“He is not here. Gone for the past week to visit his family in ____shire.”
“That explains much, how kind of him to have forgotten to inform me,” Atlas snapped with uncharacteristic curtness.
“Oh Atlas, we must go… my carriage is already hitched. It will be faster,” Mary insisted.
She too was exhausted beyond comprehension, but could not deny a person in true need. Nodding to the soldier, Mary told him to ride on the footman’s step as they drove to where the single men were housed.
Within minutes, they arrived at the long low building that had been built some years back to serve as a workhouse for the poor. Having never seen much use, it had been repurposed when the militia had first come to Meryton. In their absence, it functioned as a general meeting place and the occasional town festival. Now, with the regiment in residence, it was fitted with rows of narrow beds and neat trunks for personal items. The center of the great room had been repurposed as a dining hall, now filled with a sea of red coated men forming a circle around where a single soldier lay thrashing about.
“Clear this area!” Atlas ordered as their arrival interrupted the spectacle. Slowly the group of men parted as Atlas and Mary rushed towards the flailing young man.
“He’s having a grand seizure! Mary, help me stabilize his head,” Atlas instructed.
She loosened the high uniform collar, hoping to ease any restricted breathing and then did her best to hold down his trembling limbs. Suddenly the solider stopped shaking and was completely still, his vacant eyes stared upwards at the ceiling. Watching Atlas where he had his fingers to the man’s throat, trying to find a pulse. Waving her away, Atlas put his ear to the man’s chest for a few moments before slowly lifting it away.
Mary Bennet and the Return of the Soldier Page 2