Miss Bingley Requests

by Judy McCrosky

  ‘I thank you,’ Eliza said, ‘but please, can you tell me how does my sister?’

  ‘I saw Jane a few moments ago,’ Caroline said, realising that answering Miss Elizabeth’s question might be the quickest way to be rid of her. She was unable to sugar-coat the situation, though, even if the knowledge might encourage Miss Elizabeth to stay. Perhaps if Miss Elizabeth knew Jane was truly ill, she would allow the Bingley carriage to take both sisters home to Longbourn.

  ‘I am afraid your sister slept poorly last night, despite the comforts we hastened to offer. She is flushed and I fear she is feverish. She was not well enough, this morning, to leave her room.’

  Miss Elizabeth grew pale, and swayed for a moment on her feet. Mr Darcy, Caroline noted out of the corner of her eye, took a step forward, but Miss Elizabeth drew in a deep breath and asked in a quiet but firm voice to be taken up to see Jane.

  Caroline escorted her and paused at the doorway as Miss Elizabeth rushed to her sister’s bedside. Jane’s face lit up at the sight of her sister, and she held out both hands. Eliza took them in her own and sat down on the edge of the bed, disengaging one hand to cup it around her sister’s cheek and then to push Jane’s damp hair away from her forehead. Both sisters had obviously forgotten Caroline’s presence and she, relieved, returned to her breakfast.

  After breakfast, and a second cup of tea, Caroline and Louisa returned upstairs to see how Jane did. ‘I confess,’ Caroline said as they neared Jane’s room, ‘that I am somewhat concerned about our dear friend. I am happy that Mr Jones will attend her.’

  Louisa nodded. ‘I too. Jane truly is the sweetest of creatures.’

  When they entered the room, Miss Elizabeth was tenderly bathing her sister’s face. ‘Dear Jane,’ Louisa said, ‘I cannot bear to see you thus. Do you suffer overly much?’

  Jane smiled, without the warmth of her usual expression, but her countenance reflected the joy she felt in seeing her friends. ‘I cannot say that I am well, but with you and my sister here, I cannot say that I suffer, either.’

  Louisa opened the curtains, just a bit, so that the air in the room was lightened. She then left the room, and returned with a clean bed gown. She and Caroline busied themselves by the window as Miss Elizabeth assisted her sister to change.

  ‘Shall I read to you?’ Caroline asked.

  ‘I thank you,’ Jane said, sounding surprised, but before Caroline could fetch a book, Mr Jones, the apothecary, arrived, followed by Charles who hovered by the door, looking worried.

  The Bingleys left the room while Mr Jones conducted his examination. Outside the closed door, Charles paced up and down the hallway, his hands thrust into his pockets. Mr Darcy came up the stairs and looked inquiringly at him, but Caroline shook her head to show they did not have any news.

  After what seemed an eternity, the door opened and Mr Jones and Elizabeth came out. ‘As you surmised,’ he said to Caroline, no doubt assuming that it would be she who, as mistress of the house, would be in charge of whatever was required. ‘Miss Bennet has caught a violent cold. She will recover but it will take time and so you must tend her until she can get the better of it. I have advised her to remain in bed.’

  Miss Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, but he apparently knew what she would say, for he turned to her.

  ‘I will send the draughts as soon as they can be made up, and they will greatly ease her headache, and may aid with the fever.’

  Miss Elizabeth nodded, clearly overcome with distress, and she returned to her sister’s bedside.

  Charles saw the apothecary out, thanking him over and over again. The gentlemen then announced their intention to go out.

  The day passed quietly. Since Jane was reluctant to relinquish her sister’s hands, Caroline read from a book of poems she found in the library. She assumed Mr Darcy had been reading it. She didn’t recognise the poet’s name, but knew that if he approved of it, it would suit Jane very well. Louisa sat close by also, working on her embroidery. Jane sometimes dozed, but when she was awake she looked lovingly from face to face of the three women who kept her company, and seemed content.

  Her face was still flushed, and the next time she appeared to sleep, Elizabeth said, in a trembling voice, that the fever still raged. The clock rang three shortly after, while Jane still slept, and Eliza rose reluctantly and said she must go, but Caroline could see how much she wished to stay. Caroline, despite her concern for Jane, knew that she and Louisa could look after Jane perfectly well without the added burden of another houseguest. ‘Shall I send for the carriage to take you home?’ she asked.

  Eliza looked at her sister and back at Caroline, and resolutely raised her chin. ‘I thank you,’ she said softly. ‘That would be very kind.’

  Jane woke at this point and having heard that her sister was leaving, reached out and clutched Elizabeth’s hand. ‘Oh no, please, Lizzie, do not leave me. I feel so much better just knowing you are near.’

  ‘Do not be concerned, dear Jane,’ Caroline said, putting a smile on her face. ‘There is no need for your sister to depart. We have plenty of room, as you know, and it would be no problem at all for her to remain by your side.’

  Elizabeth studied Caroline for a moment, almost as if she knew that Caroline did not like having yet another Bennet present, especially not this one with her fine eyes. She clearly wished to stay, though, and so she very prettily offered her thanks. Jane spoke of her gratitude also, and after a glance at Louisa, Caroline left the room to send a servant to Longbourn to acquaint the Bennets with Elizabeth’s stay and to bring back clothing and other necessities.

  * * *

  By the time the clock struck five, Caroline had wearied of reading. She and Louisa left the Bennet sisters alone, and retired to dress for dinner.

  ‘What a tedious afternoon,’ Louisa said as they closed the door to Jane’s chamber behind them.

  ‘I heartily agree,’ Caroline said with a sigh. ‘It is enough to make me see a positive light on Eliza’s being here.’

  ‘Yes, I can see that, but we still need to have a chamber prepared for her, and we will have to speak to her during meals and any other times she chooses to join the family downstairs.’

  ‘I expect,’ Caroline said, ‘she’ll be happy with a pallet in her sister’s room at night. Although, I suppose you are correct, and we’d better find a chamber for her to use.’

  They reached the door to Caroline’s rooms, and parted.

  Caroline sank on to the bench before her dressing table, and examined her reflection. She looked very ill, her skin was wan, and her eyes held no sparkle. Her hair, too, appeared to have lost its usual lustre. Clearly, she thought, it is unhealthy for me to spend time in a sickroom. Perhaps Eliza’s presence here was a blessing, after all.

  Thinking of Eliza, though, brought on thoughts of Mr Darcy and his admiration of her fine eyes. She wondered why on earth he had said such a thing. Perhaps he’d briefly taken leave of his senses, although Mr Darcy, of everyone she knew, was the person most in his right mind, with a stern control over his emotions and, most likely, his thoughts as well. Could he have been joking that evening at Sir William’s?

  During their more recent engagement at the Lucases, Darcy had said nothing about Elizabeth, but he had looked in her direction several times, and Caroline wondered if he was thinking about her eyes and other features. Surely he had no reason to study the countenance of someone so clearly beneath his notice. His earlier comments must have been an attempt at humour, born from his discomfort with the company they were keeping.

  His wit was dry, that much she knew, and she was not always able to comprehend when he said something with all seriousness or when he meant it to be taken as a bon mot.

  Not that he’d ever used sarcasm when speaking of her, of course, but he could show incisive humour when he so chose. She remembered when he’d said that Elizabeth was no more than tolerable, and that he was in no humour to give consequence to young ladies who were slighted by other men. How Caroline had
laughed at that, and even he had smiled.

  No, he could have had no serious intent when he spoke of fine eyes. Caroline determined to think no more about Miss Elizabeth. She smiled into the mirror and it seemed as if her eyes had regained at least some of their usual vivacity. Ringing for her maid, she started her preparations for dinner.

  * * *

  At six-thirty, as she walked past the chamber in which Jane lay, Caroline sent a servant to summon Elizabeth to join the family for the evening meal. As she did not come downstairs right away, Caroline was reluctant to wait. After all, Eliza might have some little task she felt was necessary to do for her sister, but more likely she was doing her hair or changing her dress, and who knew how long that would take. Her delay in appearing was another sign of the poor manners demonstrated by her family, and Caroline led the others into the dining room without waiting for her inconsiderate guest. They were all seated by the time Elizabeth arrived.

  Charles rose to his feet with alacrity as did, Caroline noted with displeasure, Mr Darcy. The latter, she knew, was merely being polite. ‘How does your sister?’ Charles asked, even before Eliza was properly seated.

  ‘I am sorry to have to report,’ Eliza said once the footman had pushed her chair closer to the table as she sat down, ‘that she is no better.’

  ‘That is grievous news indeed,’ Caroline said before Charles could respond.

  ‘Most grievous,’ Louisa added.

  ‘How sad that she should have contracted such a bad cold,’ Caroline said.

  ‘Most shocking,’ Louisa added.

  At this point Charles was able to partake in the conversation. ‘Does she suffer much?’ he asked. ‘Is there anything, anything at all, I can do to alleviate even the smallest portion of her distress?’

  ‘Oh, she must suffer so greatly,’ Caroline said.

  ‘Indeed she must,’ Louisa said, taking a portion of boiled potatoes from a footman. ‘I recall well the last time I was ill. How my head ached. I can still recall every twinge.’

  ‘You poor thing,’ Caroline said tenderly. ‘I think that I detest being ill more than anything else in all the world.’

  ‘Can I serve you some chicken?’ Charles asked Eliza.

  ‘I thank you,’ she answered.

  Mr Hurst, seated next to Eliza, had ignored her until now, but looked up when she requested her chicken without the rosemary and garlic sauce. ‘You prefer your food plain?’ he asked with great surprise.

  ‘I do indeed, sir. I find the heavier sauces disguise the taste overly much of what I am eating.’

  ‘You are saying that you prefer a plain dish to a ragout?’

  ‘I do.’

  Caroline was shocked to observe Eliza appeared amused by Mr Hurst. He however, did not notice the impertinence, merely grunting and returning his attention to his food, from which it rarely wavered during meals.

  Caroline turned to Mr Darcy and noted that he too, had observed the interchange. ‘I do apologise,’ she whispered to him, ‘that my invitation to a friend has resulted in our having to suffer further unpleasant company.’

  He stared at her for a moment. ‘I am in no way distressed by Miss Bennet’s or Miss Elizabeth’s presence. You must not fret on my behalf.’

  ‘Your generosity to these people knows no bounds.’ She noted that he too had taken no sauce with his chicken and wondered, for a moment, if he had always eaten thus or if this was a new habit he’d formed.

  He picked up his fork and commenced eating.

  ‘Do you have any particular plans for this evening?’ she asked him.

  He put his fork down and turned to her again. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I will read if I can, and I would like to get some letters written.’

  Her attention was caught by Charles’ laughter, and she looked to see that he and Eliza were apparently enjoying their conversation, for as he laughed, she gave him a pleased smile.

  When the last dish was cleared away, Eliza said she hoped they would excuse her, but she wished to return to her sister, and Caroline, of course, said she understood completely and granted her leave to depart. The footman had barely closed the door behind her when Caroline, at last, felt able to speak her thoughts,

  ‘Such manners! If I didn’t know better, I would never believe she was related to Jane. Dear Jane, so sweet, and such lovely manners. I declare, I felt for you exceedingly, Mr Hurst, having to sit the entire meal beside such impertinence.’

  Mr Hurst opened his mouth to respond but his wife was faster. ‘She had no conversation to help you pass the time, my dear,’ she said to her husband.

  ‘And such pride,’ Caroline added. ‘So much pride, and nothing to be proud of.’

  ‘She has nothing, in short,’ said Louisa, nodding in agreement, ‘to recommend her, but being an excellent walker.’ She snickered at this point, and continued, ‘I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild!’

  ‘She did indeed,’ Caroline said. ‘I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold! Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!’

  ‘Yes, and her petticoat, six inches deep in mud.’

  ‘Your picture may be exact, Louisa,’ said Charles, ‘but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice.’

  ‘You observed it, Mr Darcy, I am sure,’ said Caroline, pleased to observe an expression of distaste upon his countenance, ‘and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition.’

  She was pleased when, as expected, he said, ‘Certainly not.’

  She smiled at him, knowing they were of one mind. ‘To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence.’

  ‘It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,’ said Charles.

  Her brother, she knew, found it difficult to think ill of anyone. She turned to Mr Darcy and, lowering her voice as if to impart an important confidence, said, ‘I am afraid, Mr Darcy, that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes.’

  He paused a moment, regarding her with an expression she could not read. ‘Not at all,’ he replied, ‘they were brightened by the exercise.’

  Caroline knew not how to respond to this, so she turned to Louisa. ‘Miss Bennet is very sweet and also quite unwell. I long to see her now, to ascertain for myself if she has improved any.’

  Louisa was in full agreement with this, and the two left the dining parlour to sit with Jane.

  The four women stayed together in silence, Caroline and Louisa sewing, Elizabeth hopping up and down like a rabbit, fetching cool water and clean cloths to bathe her sister’s face, tempting her to sip a spoonful of broth, or simply moving between bed and a chair, depending on if her sister slept or, when awake, wanted her hand held.

  After a long time, during which Caroline did at least complete a floral motif on one of the slippers she was embroidering for Mr Darcy, a servant knocked at the door and summoned the ladies for coffee. Elizabeth apologised but requested to stay with Jane, who was asleep but sometimes tossed her head from side to side. The other two left only after protestations of how much they wished they could stay with dear Jane, since their presence gave her much comfort, but then left in case Eliza suggested that they do so.

  As Caroline poured coffee, Charles begged to know how poor Miss Bennet fared. ‘Alas,’ she said, ‘dear Jane is still feverish, I am afraid.’

  Charles jumped up and paced, stating, ‘There must be something I can do.’

  ‘Please, Charles,’ Caroline said, ‘do not distress yourself. You will do Jane and anyone else no good at all if you drive yourself into a sickbed as well.’

  Mr Darcy looked up at that, and Caroline re
alised she had spoken more sharply than she’d intended. ‘Besides,’ she added, her tone more measured, ‘having the company of Louisa and myself provided her much comfort, but now she requires quiet so she can sleep.’

  Charles clenched his fists for a moment, staring up as if he could see through the ceiling into the room where Jane lay, but after a moment he heaved a great sigh and sat back down.

  Once everyone was served Mr Hurst asked if he should summon a servant to set up the table for cards. Since he asked the same question every evening that no other entertainment was scheduled, Caroline had already arranged the matter, and shortly after, the family sat down to play loo.

  A little time later, Eliza entered the room. She tries to pretend she is shy and demure, Caroline thought. Charles rose to his feet and waved at her. ‘I am very happy to see you,’ he said. ‘Does your presence here mean your sister is a little better?’

  She smiled at him and said, ‘She sleeps more quietly now, and so I thought it all right for a time if I join you here.’

  ‘I am delighted to hear it,’ Charles said. ‘Will you join us at loo?’

  She paused, and Caroline saw her eyes go to the table and the piles of coin that rested there. ‘I thank you,’ she said, ‘but as I will be able to remain with you for only a little time, I will amuse myself with a book.’

  As they resumed playing, she came over to watch, positioning herself between Mr Bingley and Caroline. Mr Darcy’s eyes, Caroline noted, had followed her as she approached.

  ‘Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?’ Caroline asked him. ‘Will she be as tall as I am?’

  Mr Darcy pulled his eyes down to his cards. He didn’t look at Caroline, but at least he no longer gazed at Eliza. ‘I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height.’

  ‘How I long to see her again!’ Caroline cried. ‘I never met anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.’

  ‘It is amazing to me,’ said Charles, ‘how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.’