A Sister's Curse

by Jayne Bamber

  Anne gazed at her husband in admiration and wiped the tears from her face. Her mother gave her an arch look as she handed her a handkerchief. “Well, if it were up to me,” the dowager declared, “I am sure I would be sending all three of my children back to the nursery tonight, and boxing some ears besides, but I for one am perfectly willing to behave as one should when one is a guest in another person’s home. Come, Anne, you must walk with me into the dining room, for I have a great curiosity to hear about your guests. We are the leaders in this community, and as Catherine would say, it is our duty to do what we can for the less fortunate within our reach, as befitting our station. Now dearest, I want to hear all about it.”

  ***

  Dinner was an awkward, grim affair, but it was gotten through. Sir Lewis’s resolution to take a tray in his room while he packed for their departure at first light proved a blessing to the rest of the family. With the presence of her son and nephews and young George Wickham at the table, there were so many uncomfortable questions, stilted answers, and rather troubling speculations that Lady Anne scarcely felt herself up to sitting through it.

  The countess, as was her custom, remained indifferent to most of the conversation, while Henry, no longer provoked by Sir Lewis, calmly continued questioning them about the Bennets and Gardiners. The dowager countess’s interest was equally apparent, and she was, unsurprisingly, inclined to see things exactly as her youngest daughter did. That Catherine was so sympathetically disposed towards their unfortunate guests was more of a surprise to Anne, who wondered if her concern was borne more out of a desire to spite Sir Lewis than any genuine sentiment. However, Catherine revealed that she had apparently spent a few hours with Miss Gardiner while Anne had lingered in the nursery, and found her to be a pleasing sort of girl, just the right blend of deferential and genteel. Catherine did like to meddle, and had developed an interest in making Miss Gardiner her next pet project, once the young lady’s injuries healed.

  Anne answered her family’s questions and made all of the appropriate remarks when necessary, but felt the entire time as if she was slipping away from the present moment, into a distant, murky haze. She found herself often losing the direction of the conversation entirely, replaying over and over in her mind the moment she had descended from her barouche to see the Bennet carriage strewn across the road.

  To her tremendous relief, her brother had the good sense not to tarry over brandy with George after supper, and was prompt in commanding his family to retire for the evening, cordially asking them to keep him informed on how he might be of service. Anne, her husband, and her sister seized the opportunity to retire immediately.

  Anne and George Darcy were a love match, and in twelve years of marriage they had ignored the custom of sleeping in separate bedchambers. As the two of them came out of their respective dressing rooms, attired for bed, George drew his wife into a gentle embrace before pulling back the bedclothes and gesturing for her to come and sit beside him. “I am sorry for that dreadful business this evening. You were right to be angry with all of us, carrying on like that. I am sure de Bourgh and I would have had words at some point during his stay, we always do, but tonight of all nights, it was horrible of me. Can you forgive me for being so beastly?”

  Anne nestled in close to her husband, her head on his shoulder and one hand on his chest as they lay back against the pillows. “I forgive you, dearest. I am sure Henry must have come in already worked into such a state.”

  “And I ought to have known Sir Lewis would make this whole ordeal about himself. Not a thought for how close he came to nearly losing his wife today! When I think of it – when I think of how it might have been you....”

  Anne raised her fingertips to George’s lips. “Hush, my love. I am safe. Only I....”

  “What is it? You are not concealing some injury from me, are you?”

  “No, not at all. I was a little knocked about, of course, but nothing serious. Nothing at all like – oh, it was so horrible. I shall never forget the sight of it, that is all I meant to say. I feel as though I am forever changed by what I have seen today.”

  “I daresay we both are, my love. It is no small thing, to see a man die, to hear his final words. To see so much suffering – but I am proud of you. I always have been, but never more than today. You were like a lioness looking after her cubs.”

  Anne smiled sadly. “They are such dear children.”

  George placed his hand on hers. “I know it is your wish – that is, you have wanted to give me more children, but after today, Anne, I would beg you give it up. I cannot bear the thought of losing you, whether it be on the journey to some doctor in Bath who might be able to help, or if you were to conceive again, and....”

  Anne sniffled, and brought her hand up to her face as if to stop the tears from coming. “Oh George, do not ask me this. Not tonight, I can scarcely think clearly. I almost agree with you, perhaps it is not worth it. My madness for more children led me to this folly, and it has cost a man his life, a man who will never see his own daughters grow up. Yet, all those hours I spent in the nursery today…. I ought to be ashamed of how happy it made me to be with those dear sweet girls. I want one so badly, George. I want to be a mother again.”

  George cradled his wife in his arms as she wept. “Let us not think of it now, dearest. It has been a difficult day, and nothing need be decided just now. If the Almighty wishes us to have any more children, we shall have them. For now, he has given us the Bennets to care for, and I daresay we had better get some rest so that we can do our best to face whatever tomorrow brings.”

  ***

  Tomorrow came far earlier than anyone could have expected. Just before dawn, a commotion in the corridor woke the Darcys, alerting them that all was not well. Quickly donning their dressing gowns, they rushed out of their chamber and were met by Mrs. Reynolds in the hall.

  “Oh, thank the Lord, I was afraid to come and wake you,” Mrs. Reynolds cried, coming towards them as a couple of other maids went rushing past with arms full of linens.

  “Of course,” Anne replied. “If anything is happening, we must be awake and present. Pray, what is going on, Mrs. Reynolds?”

  “I believe it is Mrs. Bennet,” she replied. “The doctor woke Mr. Gardiner, and sent for his helper in the village. Mrs. Bennet took a turn for the worse, and she is asking for her eldest daughter and sister, but they are both injured, and nobody wants to disturb them – that is, unless you think we ought to.”

  “I say let them rest a while longer, but we must consult Mr. Gardiner,” George said. “Surely they cannot be moved? What does the doctor say?”

  Mrs. Reynolds countenance darkened. “Oh, he is in such a state! Well, perhaps you had better come and see.”

  ***

  After spending a hellish half hour with his sister, Mr. Gardiner leaned against the wall just outside the door of her bedchamber, slumping back and breathing out heavily as he brought his hands to his face, trying to drown out the sound of Fanny’s screams. Doctor Johnson had done everything he could to make her comfortable, despite Fanny being far from a cooperative patient, but the situation was rapidly deteriorating. The door opened once more and the Darcys came out into the corridor as well; he immediately straightened himself, embarrassed to have been seen so discomposed by his gracious hosts.

  The Darcys both looked subdued, and no less distraught than himself; thankfully they said nothing of his tear-streaked face. Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat, not wishing to appear so entirely useless, and said, “We had better go and get the girls.”

  Lady Anne made a strangled sound and looked timidly between her husband and Mr. Gardiner. “Are you sure it is best?”

  “Doctor Johnson seemed to believe it would help,” Mr. Gardiner replied, so tired his voice was almost devoid of any emotion. “Lizzy and Mary won’t remember it, perhaps not even Jane. Johnson is right; Fanny’s need to see them outweighs the distress it may cause them. They will forget it.”

  “The decision is
yours,” Mr. Darcy said with a nod. “So be it.”

  They collected the Bennet girls and returned several minutes later, once the younger children had been reasonably comforted from their unexpected awakening, and were calm enough to be brought to their mother’s room. Mr. Gardiner glanced over at Mr. Darcy as they stood on opposite sides of Fanny’s bed. To his relief, Jane had been lifted from her bed without being woken – even now she lay with her head on Mr. Darcy’s shoulder, sleeping peacefully. More the better. Doctor Johnson was correct that Lizzy and Mary would likely not remember this view of their mother, the look of pain on her face and the terrifying quantity of blood on her bedsheets, but if Jane were to open her eyes now, he feared the image would stay with her forever, as he knew it would for him.

  Mr. Darcy took a step closer to his wife, who leaned into him as she buried her face in Lizzy’s thick, dark curls and clutched the girl closer. Fanny had been coaxed by the doctor to open her eyes, even as she squeezed the bedding with both hands and suppressed another cry of agony long enough to focus on her children, and say what Mr. Gardiner knew in his heart might be her final goodbye.

  He shifted the weight of the baby he held to one arm, and reached out with his free hand to clasp Fanny’s. “You must be brave for them, Sister. Tell them you love them, and bid them good night, and then we shall see you through this, I swear it.”

  Fanny met his eye and tried to smile as she gave a slight nod, but in another moment her face was contorted and she let out a scream of pain. He squeezed her hand tighter. “Stay with us, Fanny.”

  She whimpered and looked frantically between her three daughters. “Goodbye, my darlings. Be good girls for your uncle, and remember your Mamma loves you.” Fanny managed to choke the words out before ending her speech with a haunting moan and a sob.

  “Enough,” Mr. Gardiner said, noticing Jane’s eyes begin to flicker open. “We’ve got to get them out of here.”

  As he and the Darcys turned to leave, Mrs. Bennet cried out, “I will see you in Heaven, my darling girls.” Her weeping soon faded into another scream of agony, and Mr. Gardiner bit his lip and left his sister to the mercy of the doctor and his assistant.

  In the corridor, the Darcys led the way back to the nursery, and Mr. Gardiner was approached by Mrs. Reynolds, who in one fluid motion divested him of the baby in his arms and handed him a freshly starched pocket square. “Your lip is bleeding, sir,” she said. “I’ll get the little one back to her sisters; the Fishers are here, in the gallery – Lady Anne said you’d want them here.”

  “Thank you, yes,” he replied, dabbing at his lip as he moved away to seek Madeline’s comfort.

  The gallery was near enough that he could still hear his sister’s shrieks as he entered and went directly to his fiancée, sparing a quick greeting for her father before he took Madeline in his arms. She embraced him back, letting him hold her for far longer than might have been appropriate as he gently wept on her shoulder.

  Mr. Fisher was patient, but eventually cleared his throat, and when Mr. Gardiner broke away from Madeline to look around at him, he gestured for them all to be seated.

  “What news, Edward,” Madeline asked.

  He took a deep breath, wishing to speak calmly in the presence of his fiancée and her father, though at such a time it was nearly impossible. “She has lost the baby.”

  Madeline gasped and brought her hands to her face. “Oh no!”

  Mr. Fisher lowered his eyes sadly. “I am sorry, son.”

  “It is not the first child she has lost, but it is the first time it has ever been a boy. I cannot describe to you the depth of her despair. Knowing how close she was to saving the family estate, and with Thomas gone, even if she did survive this….” He stopped, ashamed to have given voice to such an awful thought.

  “But she will survive it,” Madeline said hopefully.

  “She might. She has before. She lost one after Jane, and another after Lizzy. Johnson says he has seen this pattern before, but she was not so severely injured already the last two times. She has no broken bones, as Phyllis does, but shielding the child on her lap, she took the brunt of the impact, and her body is very badly bruised. She’s been in and out of her senses, and briefly lost her sense of time once again. If this is the end, perhaps it might have been better that she did not remember the girls, but she did. She asked to see them and the doctor urged us to comply, if only to give her some little relief. I do wonder if it wasn’t a mistake, but it is done.”

  Mr. Fisher nodded. “It is done, and I think it was done for the best. I believe your sister is in with her now; Mrs. Bennet was asking for her when we first arrived.”

  “Is she quite well enough to move? I think you said she had some broken bones,” Madeline said softly.

  Mr. Gardiner took her hand in his. “If the doctor allowed it, I must trust him in this. Everything is in his hands now.”

  “No, my son,” Mr. Fisher replied. “It is in God’s hands. Perhaps it might give you some comfort if we began to pray?”

  “Yes, I believe I would like that,” Mr. Gardiner replied, choking back a sob.

  The three of them bowed their heads and Mr. Fisher led them in prayer for a quarter of an hour or more. Though Mr. Gardiner was not a particularly spiritual man, despite planning to marry the daughter of a clergyman, he tried to seek comfort in Mr. Fisher’s words. Rubbing his thumb over Madeline’s soft little fingers, he felt the parson’s words begin to blur together, the sound of Mr. Fisher’s deep baritone voice soothing and reassuring. He felt his shoulders begin to lean against Madeline, and it was her nearness more than anything that finally stopped Mr. Gardiner’s tears. He would be strong, because of her, and for her.

  A short while after they finished their prayers, they were joined by the Darcys, who entered the gallery hand in hand. “The girls are back in bed,” Mr. Darcy informed them. “Little Lizzy required a glass of milk with a couple drops of brandy, but they are all three sleeping peacefully now.”

  Mr. Gardiner gave a hollow laugh. “I’ve always said she’s all Thomas, that one.”

  “We saw Doctor Johnson – Miss Gardiner is still with Fanny, and she is asking to see you, Miss Fisher,” Mr. Darcy added, helping the young lady to her feet.

  Mr. Gardiner reluctantly released Madeline’s hand, and she peered nervously back at him. “They are to be your sisters,” he said encouragingly. Mr. Fisher nodded his agreement.

  “Come along, my dear, I will show you the way,” Lady Anne said, offering Madeline her arm.

  Madeline shyly linked her arm through Lady Anne’s. “Yes, of course. I am happy to give her whatever comfort I can.”

  As he watched Madeline go, Mr. Gardiner began to feel some doubt as to whether he ought to have allowed it – a young woman on the brink of marriage, and whose fiancé dearly wanted children of his own, should really not be exposed to what she would see in Fanny’s sickroom. On the other hand, Fanny had asked for her, and if it would give his sister any comfort to meet his future bride, Mr. Gardiner could not deny her that.

  Lady Anne returned after showing Madeline into Fanny’s room, and sat beside her husband on the sofa, opposite Mr. Gardiner, while Mr. Fisher began to pace, peering out the windows as the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon. Lady Anne leaned against her husband, her head on his shoulder and her hands clasped in his, clearly trying to hold herself together. After sitting in silence for a few minutes, she met Mr. Gardiner’s eye and said, “I had the impression yesterday that your sister must have been quite lively and sociable in her younger days.”

  Mr. Gardiner smiled reminiscently. “That is certainly a delicate way of putting it. Very perceptive of you, your ladyship.”

  “I always wished for a sister,” Mr. Darcy mused aloud. “I was an only child – I lost two brothers quite young. What was it like, growing up with your sisters?”

  Mr. Gardiner felt his eyes begin to mist over as he chuckled. “Like having three mothers. My goodness, how they would fuss over me.
Despite being several years my junior, they have both, since they were old enough to speak, known exactly what was best for me, and never hesitated to make their sentiments known to me. Marriage has certainly made Fanny even more of an authority on a wide variety of subjects. I have not always enjoyed being the recipient of such solicitude, but now I find I would not be content without it. It is good to feel so cared for, so looked after. They have always been my biggest supporters.”

  “They must have been so happy when you found yourself such a fine young lady to settle down with, to come such a distance,” Lady Anne said, choking back tears.

  Sensing what she meant, Mr. Gardiner met her eyes with an earnest look and replied, “I do not blame you for the accident, Lady Anne.”

  She nodded, weeping softly, and buried her face in her husband’s shoulder.

  They were interrupted then by Madeline’s return to the gallery. Mr. Gardiner stood, hoping Madeline would come to him, but she only glanced his way before bursting into tears and running to her father. Mr. Fisher hugged his daughter, patting her head as he gently whispered words of reassurance that Mr. Gardiner could not quite make out. Madeline whispered something back to her father. His face grew somber, but he gently nodded.

  “Mr. Darcy, Lady Anne,” said he, “I think we must be returning to the village now.” Madeline wouldn’t meet Mr. Gardiner’s eye as she hastened away with her father.

  3.

  Three days after the tragic conclusion of their journey north, Thomas and Fanny Bennet were laid to rest in the Lambton churchyard. The funeral was presided over by Mr. Fisher, and attended by Mr. Gardiner, Mr. Darcy, and, inexplicably, the Earl of Matlock and his two adolescent sons.