Page 12 of Chasing Shadows
Elizabeth woke to find Jane still flushed with fever. She sighed, smoothed her sister’s hair, and was about to ring for water when a knock sounded.
She opened the door. Miss Bingley entered first, her gown rustling softly, and behind her came Mr. Reeds, the apothecary’s assistant, bearing a small box in his hands.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said with a bow, “what a surprise. I had not thought to find you here.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. “Nor I you, sir. It has been some time, has it not? Since Mr. Collins’s wedding?”
“Indeed,” he answered as he set the box upon the table by the bed. “I recall our dance—it was most pleasant.”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “Yes, sir, it was.”
His gaze lingered with a touch of warmth. “When Mr. Jones asked me to deliver a draught at Netherfield, I confess I never imagined he meant for your sister. It is a surprise, and a pleasant one, to find you here.”
Elizabeth smiled once more, then gestured toward Jane. “She has been unwell since yesterday. I thank you for bringing the medicines.”
He opened the box with care. “The draught will ease the fever, and the ointment is for her chest. Mr. Jones also asked that I examine the level of her progress.”
He moved closer to the bed and observed her countenance with a practiced eye, noting the flush upon her cheeks and the rapidity of her breathing.
With proper decorum, he placed the back of his hand briefly against her forehead to gauge the fever's strength, then checked the pulse at her wrist, counting the beats with careful attention.
“With the draught and proper rest, she should soon recover.” He declared when he was done.
“That is a great relief,” Elizabeth murmured.
Miss Bingley, as if weary of the exchange, interjected coolly. “I expected nothing less.”
Elizabeth offered her a polite smile, then turned back to Reeds. “You must have been much occupied of late.”
“Yes,” he admitted, his tone softening. “The town has been restless since… well, since the disturbances began. Many have taken ill from panic alone, and it has kept us much engaged. That is why Mr. Jones could not come himself. One does what one can. But I am glad to be of service here.”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “We are obliged to you.”
At that moment, the slightly ajar door creaked wider once more, and Georgiana Darcy stepped quietly inside. Every eye turned toward her as she crossed the threshold.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth,” she said gently. “How does your sister feel this morning?”
Elizabeth smiled at her. “She rests still, but your inquiry is most kind. Thank you.”
Glancing back, she caught Reeds regarding Georgiana with a puzzled look, as though uncertain who this unfamiliar young lady might be. Of course, nearly all in Meryton knew the Bingleys and their household, yet here was a new face among them.
“May I present Mr. Reeds, assistant to Mr. Jones the apothecary,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “Mr. Reeds, this is Miss Georgiana Darcy, Mr. Darcy’s sister.”
Reeds bowed. “Miss Darcy.”
Georgiana returned the courtesy with a gentle smile.
Straightening, Reeds said, “I must be off—Mr. Jones will expect me. There is always more to prepare at the shop.”
Elizabeth thanked him again. He gave a brief nod and withdrew, leaving behind the faint herbal scent of his satchel.
***
Later that morning, Elizabeth took her place at the table, though her thoughts remained fixed upon her sister upstairs.
After answering the polite inquiries concerning Jane's condition, she accepted a cup of tea with quiet thanks.
She stirred it absently, cast a brief glance at the rolls upon her plate, then let her hand fall idle in her lap, her appetite quite forsaken.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said Bingley in his usual cheer, “you have scarcely touched a thing. Surely our fare is not so poor as all that?”
Elizabeth forced a small smile. “The fare is excellent, sir. I confess only to a want of appetite. My mind is too engaged with my sister to enjoy much at present.”
Caroline Bingley’s brows arched. “How very noble,” she murmured, “though one might have supposed her attendants here sufficient without requiring further sacrifice of comfort.”
Elizabeth coloured faintly but replied with composure. “Jane is all my comfort just now, Miss Bingley. If it means foregoing a roll or two, I hardly regret it.”
Darcy looked up at her words, his countenance quite unreadable. Colonel Fitzwilliam gave a brisk nod of approbation. Mr. Hurst, however, continued with his repast, though he muttered something quite inaudible under his breath.
Elizabeth laid her napkin aside. “If you will pardon me, I shall return to her.”
She had scarcely quitted the room when Miss Bingley, seizing the pause, turned to her companions with a sharpened smile.
"Well! I cannot but admire her extraordinary presumption.
We have shown her nothing save the utmost hospitality, yet she spurns our table with such evident disdain.
One would suppose her sister to be upon her deathbed, given her theatrical display of concern.
We are all sensible, however, that she harbours quite different motives for her presence here. "
Mrs. Hurst inclined her head in agreement.
"I wish you had seen how she presented herself yesterday.
Her petticoat was six inches deep in mud, her complexion quite wild from exertion.
What lady of proper breeding would so compromise her dignity?
It was a most vulgar exhibition, and I confess myself sorry that the entire neighbourhood was not witness to such a remarkable performance.
" Miss Bingley's voice carried the sharp edge of disdain.
Mrs. Hurst gave a languid laugh. "Indeed, Caroline. It is quite beyond comprehension. To tramp across the countryside in such weather alone! Most particularly when a murderer remains at large. It betrays her breeding most entirely. A lady of proper upbringing ought to know infinitely better.
“And let us be frank,” Caroline continued, lowering her voice in mock confidence, “she would never have attempted it had Jane’s illness not offered so neat an excuse. I believe she has long wished to follow her sister here, and now, under pretence of duty, she remains. Cleverly done.”
Bingley, who had grown redder with every word, burst out, “Caroline, that is unkind in the extreme. Miss. Elizabeth Bennet came because she loves her sister. Few ladies would do as much, and I, for one, admire her devotion. Miss. Bennet is fortunate indeed.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam set down his cup with decision. “Hear, hear. I quite agree. Miss Elizabeth shows courage that puts many of finer pretensions to shame. Braving hardship for the sake of family is no slight thing. I think very highly of her for it.”
“Constancy to family, particularly in a time of trial, is a virtue not easily dismissed. In such unsettled days as these, there is no quality more deserving of respect.” Darcy added.
Caroline gave a brittle laugh. “Virtue, perhaps—but Mr. Darcy, would you so approve if Georgiana ventured through mud and mire in such a fashion? Surely you cannot wish her to imitate such rustic boldness.”
Every gaze turned toward him. Darcy rested a moment on his sister’s face before replying with grave steadiness.
“If Georgiana believed it needful to aid her family, I should not oppose her. Refinement may be learned; loyalty of heart cannot. If she acted as Miss Elizabeth has done, I would think no less of her. Indeed, I should admire her for it.”
A brief silence followed. Caroline coloured and looked away. Mrs. Hurst smoothed her napkin, her lips pressed thin.
Sensing the tension, Colonel Fitzwilliam raised his glass with a half-smile. “Well then—let us drink to sisters, and to the good sense of those who know their worth.”
Bingley laughed, eager to support him. Georgiana kept her eyes lowered, but a faint smile touched her lips.
Caroline’s own smile was fixed and tight. She spoke no more on the matter. The company shifted into safer topics, but the air had changed, and Elizabeth’s absence was felt more keenly than her presence had been.