Elizabeth carefully assumed a pleasant expression as she, Mrs. Collins, and Maria curtseyed before Lady Catherine de Bourgh, her daughter Anne, and Mrs. Jenkinson, Anne’s companion.
There was a reason for her forced smile.
Lady Catherine had been most put out with Elizabeth during her previous visit to Kent, for the young lady had insisted upon returning to Hertfordshire, though Lady Catherine had expressed a wish for her to stay.
Her ladyship was not one to suffer in silence.
Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes and raised her eyebrows in a show of displeasure as she looked at the assembled party.
Her imperious tones resonated through the room. “Where is Mr. Collins? I specifically asked him to come with you, Mrs. Collins. You should not be without your husband when you visit in your – delicate condition. Why, you might require his assistance in walking or climbing stairs. He should be more considerate of you. Your health is of paramount importance. I am quite put out. I shall speak to him concerning this breach of manners.”
Elizabeth lowered her eyes, struggling to keep a cheerful attitude. I must remember she has been quite ill. It would not do to upset her and risk throwing her into another episode.
The grand lady gestured towards the chairs, and the visitors took their seats.
Charlotte smiled. “Thank you for your solicitude, your ladyship, but Mr. Collins remains at the parsonage this morning. He was feeling unwell and was forced to retire to his room. My husband sends his most sincere apologies and bade me to assure you he will come as soon as he feels there is no possibility of contagion. In fact, he sent his man to inform me rather than telling me himself, for he would not chance being in my presence if there were any possibility he is truly ill.”
Lady Catherine’s expression thawed a bit, and she moderated her voice.
“Well, I suppose he should have stayed away if that be the case. His actions display a very correct concern for the well-being of the inhabitants of Rosings Park, though it is most inconvenient.”
The grand lady nodded sagely before continuing her soliloquy. “Perhaps he can send me his sermon notes this week rather than come to go over them with me himself. Yes, that will do very well.”
She resumed her glare, focusing on Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I was told that your sister was most advantageously married to a close friend of my nephew just a few days past. At first, I thought it must be a scandalous falsehood, but then I remembered the degree of acquaintance between you and both my nephews here last Easter. How amazed I was to see them dancing attendance on you as you played the piano so badly. It seems that you and your sister must be equals in using your arts and allurements to draw men in. In fact, when I first heard of your sister’s planned union, I intended to travel to Hertfordshire and confront you myself, but it was not to be.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. My arts and allurements? “Yes, your ladyship, my sister married Mr. Bingley two days ago, though I cannot fathom your objection to the match. I beg your pardon, but I must ask why you would travel so far to confront me when it had nothing to do with you?”
Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes. “Some part of the news had a great deal to do with a close relative of mine; therefore, it was my express concern. I was also told that you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my nephew, Mr. Darcy. I determined to make my sentiments known to you and have such an alarming report universally contradicted with all haste.”
Elizabeth tilted her head, feeling the blush on her cheeks. I must speak with moderation. She has been seriously unwell. “Your coming so far to deny the rumour, if indeed it exists, would not have served your purpose well, your ladyship, for your visit would have been seen as a confirmation of the report.”
The elder lady’s voice rose. “My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness. I shall certainly not depart from it. I would know this. Has my nephew made you an offer of marriage?”
The young lady raised her chin, fighting to keep her voice from betraying her agitation.
“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may ask questions which I shall choose not to answer.”
Lady Catherine leaned toward her, eyes flashing. “This is not to be bourne! I insist on being satisfied. He has been engaged to my daughter from their infancy. Had you not heard me say it myself? Did you not know that it was the favourite wish of his mother, as well as of hers?”
Elizabeth nodded, struggling against her emotions. “Yes, but what is that to me? I shall certainly not be kept from marrying your nephew simply by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry his cousin. Indeed, does your daughter not have any say in the matter either?”
Miss de Bourgh cleared her throat, fluttering her delicate hands. “Mama, I – ”
Lady Catherine stood to her feet, her colour rising, glaring at her guest. She grasped her left arm as she ranted. “Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment. Is this to be endured? It shall not be. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”
Outrageous!
Elizabeth rose from her chair, facing the lady, her words clipped. “In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter. So far we are equal.”
The elder lady’s pitch rose higher still as her face reddened alarmingly. “But who was your mother? Who are your aunts and uncles? I am no stranger to your youngest sister’s infamous elopement. I know it all! Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?”
Elizabeth lowered her head as she held back tears. Poor Lydia. My foolish, thoughtless sister. She will pay for that error in judgment all her life, and all of us will continue to suffer by association with her. The scandal she caused was the end to Mr. Darcy’s addresses to me, though he was kind enough to help our family. I have never had an opportunity to thank him properly. He flees at the very sight of me.
Her heart broke again.
She looked up and turned to leave. Her voice held a note of flat finality. “You can now have nothing further to say. You have insulted me by every possible method. I must beg to return to the parsonage.”
Her ladyship was highly incensed. She gripped the handle of her walking stick with both hands, leaning on it with her full weight.
“You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my nephew! Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody? You – are resolved – to have him – and make him – the contempt – of the world.”
Elizabeth whirled back to face the lady, her agitation clear, her control in tatters. “I have said nothing of the sort. I am only resolved to act in that manner which will constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any other person so wholly connected with me.”
Lady Catherine’s face contorted in pain as she dropped her walking stick, grasped her chest with both hands, and dropped heavily into her chair, eyes shut tightly.
Faith! What have I done?
Utter confusion followed, as Elizabeth quickly ran to kneel before her, holding her cold, unconscious form in the chair.
My fault. All my fault. I should have held my tongue. What if I have killed her with my temper?
The ladies of Rosings Park rose from their chairs, wringing their hands and sobbing. Maria looked as if she might be ill.
Charlotte called for the footmen. “Send for Mr. Sims posthaste. There must be no delay. Bring him here immediately.”
~~oo~~
Mr. Sims, the apothecary, entered the parlour at a run and conducted a hurried examination of Lady Catherine. He then directed the footmen to fetch the litter he had left at Rosings when she had suffered her earlier illness.
Before half an hour had passed, the lady was in her bed, as comfortable as it was possible to make her. She had not yet fully awakened, and her skin was cold and clammy, though she sweated profusely.
Elizabeth and Charlotte stood by her bed with Mr. Sims and Miss de Bourgh.
Anne de Bourgh grasped her hands together tightly as she looked at Mr. Sims. “How is she?”
His eyes were solemn. “I fear she has suffered another episode with her heart. The next several hours are crucial, so I will remain here by her side.”
Charlotte nodded. “I shall collect Maria from the parlour, and Elizabeth and I will return to the parsonage with her. If you have need of us, do not hesitate to send word, Miss de Bourgh.”
Mr. Sims shook his head. “No, Mrs. Collins. You and your party must remain here. I have just come from the parsonage, and your husband appears to have scarlet fever. I understand he has been out in the wind very often of late, working in his garden through all types of weather, and I believe that may be the cause of his illness.”
“If the wind is the cause of my husband’s disease, I cannot understand why we are not allowed to return home. I should be there to care for him.”
The apothecary sighed. “I must be entirely honest. While the prevailing opinion holds that scarlet fever is caused by intemperate weather, I have also read the work of Mr. Plenciz. He postulated that the disease is caused by animalcules. He believed that scarlet fever is as contagious as mumps or measles. We must not take that chance with you and your infant.”
Elizabeth spoke quickly. “Then I shall return to the parsonage to do what I can.”
Mr. Sims looked at her with kindness. “While I appreciate your willingness to expose yourself to the parson’s illness, I must caution you against it. You are here to care for Mrs. Collins upon the birth of her child, I understand.”
Elizabeth nodded.
The apothecary continued. “You shall not be of much use to her if you contract scarlet fever yourself, my dear. Both you and Mrs. Collins’s sister must remain here at Rosings with her. I do not wish for her to help lift or turn her ladyship. I think it would be unwise for her to attempt anything so strenuous before her accouchement. As Miss de Bourgh is unsuitable for the sick room, perhaps you and Miss Lucas could help in Lady Catherine’s care.”
“I very much doubt her ladyship would want me to help her,” Elizabeth replied in a low voice, looking at the lady’s expressionless face.
I caused this. She was angry with me, and I could not stop myself from replying in kind.
Mr. Sims smiled. “Until she is herself again, she likely will not know who is caring for her. Do you not want to help? You seem a most capable person to me.”
I must help her if I can. I must be of use. The guilt is mine; so must the remedy be.
“Will you tell me what I should do?” she asked quietly.
“Most certainly, my dear. I shall be between here and the parsonage quite often, though I must suggest that we send to London for Lady Catherine’s physician. He may know more than I about the best treatment for her condition. In the meantime, try to keep her as comfortable as possible.”
Charlotte touched his arm. “What of my husband? Who will care for him?”
“I hope you will not think me impertinent, but I have already instructed his manservant and your housekeeper, Mrs. Collins. Perhaps Lady Catherine’s physician would condescend to see your husband as a patient, as well. For now, I have already told Mrs. Bailey to pack your trunks, as well as Miss Elizabeth’s and Miss Maria’s, and bring them here as soon as ever may be. You may be here some weeks. Miss de Bourgh, would you speak with your housekeeper about rooms for the ladies?”
Miss de Bourgh’s voice trembled as she spoke. “Of course. There are several empty bedchambers on this hallway, where they may remain close to my mother.”
She glanced at each young lady, worry plain on her face. “I so appreciate your willingness to see to my mother.”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “It is the least that I can do.”
Miss de Bourgh then returned her unhappy gaze to Charlotte. “I shall dispatch a footman to assist in the care of Mr. Collins, if that pleases you.”
Charlotte nodded her agreement to the plan, and Miss de Bourgh turned to leave. She paused at the door and looked back. “I must go send an express to London for our doctor and make arrangements for the rooms for you ladies. Please excuse me.”
Mr. Sims sat in the chair by the bed. “I shall be with her for several hours. Both of you should have something to eat and settle yourselves in your chambers. Miss Elizabeth, you and Miss Lucas must rest as much as you can. We are facing a long day and a longer night, and neither of you should neglect your own health.”
Elizabeth knitted her brows. It is not yet noon, and this has already been an interminably drawn-out day. If Lady Catherine wakes to see me by her bed, will she be so angry that she suffers another attack and does not survive it?