Page 2 of The Happiness of a Most Beloved Sister (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
CHAPTER ONE
“ B reathe deeply,” said Mr Jones, and Elizabeth watched as Jane’s chest rose before falling back into position. The apothecary also observed, listening intently. “Again.”
Biting her thumbnail, a nervous habit she struggled to break, Elizabeth bore witness as Jane obeyed Mr Jones’s directive another time.
She was pale and listless, not at all how she should be, and Elizabeth feared the worst. Would this be a repeat performance of Jane’s fever seven years prior, the one that had nearly taken her life?
After a tense moment, the apothecary declared his prognosis.
“Your breathing appears perfectly regular to me, Miss Bennet. I cannot hear any sign of fluid in your lungs or any other obstruction. You have no fever, and I see no redness in your throat. You ought to be able to return to Longbourn at your leisure.”
Elizabeth’s relief at Mr Jones’s pronouncement lasted only a handful of seconds before Jane curled up on her side and began coughing, the spasms wracking her body violently.
She hurried to her sister’s bedside and began rubbing slow circles into Jane’s back, whispering soothing commiserations into her ear.
When Jane had calmed, cornflower-blue eyes watering from her efforts, her voice was weak and warbling. “I do not mean to question your expertise, but I feel so terrible…are you certain there is nothing you can do for me?”
Elizabeth cast her own eyes at the apothecary, pleading with him silently to alleviate her beloved sister’s suffering.
He gazed back at them with a blank expression, lips drawn into a tight line, apparently unmoved.
“I am afraid not. There are no symptoms to treat, and therefore I have no remedies to offer. If you are still feeling ill, all I can recommend at this juncture is rest.”
Jane’s features crumpled a moment, her brows gathering close together and her lips puckering into a moue, but they soon smoothed out into their usual placid configuration.
The poor dear endured so much, yet she never wished to trouble anyone with her complaints.
She is truly angelic! If only everyone was more like Jane.
“I understand. Thank you for—” Jane’s expression of gratitude was cut short by another cough, and she brought her fist up to cover it. Elizabeth quickly poured her a cup of tepid tea and held it up to her sister’s lips, encouraging her to drink and soothe away the tickle in her throat.
Mr Jones looked upon Jane without a whit of compassion on his countenance.
Elizabeth prickled with annoyance at this lacklustre show of sympathy.
“Yes, well, I do hope you feel strong enough to return home soon, Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth, might I see you for a moment out in the hall? I have some instructions for you.”
Somewhat surprised at this request as Mr Jones had already indicated that he had no remedies to leave with them, it was a staggered moment before Elizabeth acquiesced. After ensuring Jane was made comfortable, she followed him out into the corridor.
Once the door closed behind them, Mr Jones began, “Miss Elizabeth, your sister is perfectly well. I can find nothing wrong with her that a bit of exercise and fresh air would not resolve. Not a single sign of verifiable illness at all.”
Elizabeth gaped at the apothecary, incredulous.
“How can you say that? Did you not see the violence of her cough? It is worse than Kitty’s!
” Kitty’s lungs had been weak ever since a bout of influenza as a child, causing her to cough at the slightest provocation, but she was only rarely reduced to fits and spasms. What Jane suffered presently was a great deal more concerning.
Far from appearing chagrined by Elizabeth’s rebuke, Mr Jones snorted. “Ah, yes, her cough. The one that conveniently appears whenever anyone suggests she is no longer ill. I suspect it will go away entirely once she tires of remaining abed.”
“Are you suggesting that Jane, the most virtuous soul I have ever known, is—” Elizabeth halted her speech and threw a chary glance over her shoulder.
Should any of the household overhear their conversation, they might erroneously believe Jane deceitful and report such to Mr Bingley.
Although she saw no one about, she lowered her voice to a hissing whisper as she concluded, “Is pretending to be unwell? That she has quarantined herself here under false pretences?”
“I am suggesting that she, like your mother, has a tendency to malinger long after any actual complaint is passed.”
Elizabeth gasped. How anyone could ever, even for a moment, draw a likeness between genteel Jane and their vulgar mother was beyond her comprehension.
Jane was everything Mrs Bennet was not: calm, gentle, sweet, and delicate.
Mrs Bennet, by contrast, was nervous, voluble, irritable, and crude.
Apart from their golden, beguiling beauty, they were entirely opposite.
“Shame on you, sir!”
Mr Jones held up his hand in a placatory manner, which did little but further enflame Elizabeth’s ire.
“I do not deny that she likely suffered from a trifling cold at first. I only suggest that she is fully recovered. Quite frankly, I do not believe she was ever terribly ill to begin with and might have gone home directly, but Mr Bingley was so determined…” He shook his head.
“Well, that is neither here nor there. The point is, she may now return to Longbourn whenever she likes without any danger.”
“But what if…” Elizabeth bit her lip to disguise its trembling as her anxiety rose.
She took a moment to collect herself before saying, “But what if this is like…before? Jane has been weak ever since that horrid fever in the year four, and her illnesses never appear very serious at first. I do not wish to risk her health when there is the slightest chance she might relapse. Are you certain it is safe for her to travel?”
For the first time since being recalled to Jane’s bedside, Mr Jones’s countenance softened.
Taking the liberty of a grandfatherly man who had overseen her every sniffle since childhood, he reached out and lightly patted Elizabeth on the shoulder.
“I am quite certain. Miss Bennet is no more sickly than you or I, and her life is in no jeopardy. I know her past illness frightened you, but I swear to you that she is as hale and hardy as she ever was. You need not fear for your sister any longer. ”
Elizabeth inhaled a deep breath that shuddered when she released it.
She nodded and thanked Mr Jones, who, while occasionally unsympathetic to Jane and Mrs Bennet, had successfully treated her family’s various illnesses and injuries for longer than her own lifetime and certainly knew his business.
If he said that Jane was in no danger, then Elizabeth ought to believe him.
Having expressed her sincere gratitude, she sent the apothecary away and returned to her sister.
When she opened the door, she thought she saw Jane quickly retreat under the covers, but closer inspection proved that her sister was dozing.
Elizabeth sighed and sat in the chair that had been her constant companion since coming to Netherfield.
She opened her book and settled in for another long day of inactivity.
Later that evening, after a trying dinner with the Netherfield residents—goodness, who did Mr Darcy think he was, staring at her in that fashion?
If he kept it up, she would surely make it plain that she knew what he was about—Elizabeth entered her sister’s guest chamber and halted suddenly just over the threshold.
Jane had donned her favourite blue gown, the one with more lace and tassels than Elizabeth thought prudent, and was seated at the dressing table while a maid pinned her hair.
“Jane!” she exclaimed upon recovering her wits. “What are you doing? Should you not be resting?”
Jane did not turn round but rather met Elizabeth’ s gaze in the mirror. “I am feeling much better and would like to go downstairs with the company.”
“But just a short while ago you were too weak to go down to dinner. Are you certain you are improved enough for a change of rooms?”
Jane’s reflection displayed a slight puckering of her lips. “I have been abed all day and wish for a bit of variety, that is all. Mr Jones said I might go home, should I wish it, so surely I can make polite conversation in a drawing room for an hour or two without dire consequences.”
“I am merely concerned about you. Your cough?—”
“Is much better.”
Elizabeth blinked at the abruptness of Jane’s tone, stung.
Jane sighed and turned round, her eyes bright and soft. She dismissed the maid before returning her attention to Elizabeth. “Forgive me, Lizzy. I am merely out of sorts after being stuck in this room so long. I think a change of scene and society will do me much good.”
She truly did look recovered, seated there in a pretty gown with her hair done up. There was no sign of discomfort in either her expression or posture, and her colour, while still rather pale, was no longer pallid.
Ah, yes, her cough. The one that conveniently appears whenever anyone suggests she is no longer ill. I suspect it will go away entirely once she tires of remaining abed.
Elizabeth banished Mr Jones’s condemnatory voice from her mind, refusing to believe that Jane would ever be disingenuous about her health. She knew how much Elizabeth worried about her. Undoubtedly, resting throughout the day had done its work and cleared up that horrid cough.
“So long as you are feeling strong enough, I am sure a bit of company will do you no harm. Here, let me fetch you a shawl before we go down.”
Jane submitted to Elizabeth’s further ministrations without complaint. While the latter carefully wrapped the former in the thickest shawl she could find, Jane wistfully said, “I can hardly wait to see Mr Bingley again.”
Elizabeth’s hands stilled. Mr Bingley was assuredly a gentlemanly sort of man, handsome and always cheerful, and he had made a favourable impression upon the neighbourhood.
However, Mr Wilbur had been similarly attractive and amiable, and he had turned out to be a blackguard.
Elizabeth haltingly cautioned, “I can see that you like him, and it seems obvious that he likes you as well, but take care to guard your heart, dearest.”
Jane, her expression serene and pitying, replied, “He is not like Mr Wilbur.”
“We cannot know that. Mr Bingley appears to be all that a gentleman should be, but remember that we have not known him a month yet. I am only asking you to be careful.”
Jane shook her head. “You are always directing me, Lizzy. I thought I was supposed to be the elder sister.”
Innocent, tender-hearted Jane! Elizabeth embraced her. “We take care of one another. You would do the same for me, I am sure.”
They broke apart then left to go downstairs, one sister leaning upon the other.