Page 19 of The Talented Daughters of Longbourn

Longbourn

The Next Morning

The hot chocolate beside Elizabeth’s plate had long since ceased to steam.

Her eyes were glued to the letter in one hand, and she did not notice when a glob of marmalade fell from the scrap of toast clutched in her other hand.

The sunlight settled full across the page.

It was cool outside but unseasonably clear and bright, and the birds sang and called to one another with great good cheer.

The weather could not have been more opposed to Elizabeth’s heart.

It lay sick and heavy with grief from the knowledge of her father’s failing health.

So much rested upon her now, at least until her uncles arrived.

It would not take them long, she knew; she had sent the expresses the previous night.

But until they could come and relieve her of some of her burdens, she must make the decisions.

The foremost one, at the moment, was what to tell her mother.

Mrs. Bennet’s denial of her husband’s illness could no longer be supported.

It was grievous that the delusions had persisted for this long, but for much of their marriage, Elizabeth’s parents had had as little to do with each other as possible.

Thankfully Mary was aware of the plan to acquire a common license so she could marry before her father’s passing. She was upstairs presently, working industriously on the dress she would wear to her wedding, ably assisted by Lydia.

Soon Elizabeth would have to tell Lydia, and Kitty too, of their father’s true condition. They knew he was ill, but they had no idea of how close he was to entering Heaven’s gates.

These morbid thoughts chased each other through Elizabeth’s mind as she stared through tear-blurred eyes down at the letter in her hand.

“Is that a letter from Jane?” Mrs. Bennet demanded, hurrying over to pour herself tea. She added two lumps of sugar along with milk and then took her place across from Elizabeth. “How is Kitty this morning?”

Her daughter wiped her tears from her eyes and, after sending silent prayer heavenward, said, “Yes, it is from Jane. She says that Kitty is feeling much better, and they will be returning home this afternoon.”

Mrs. Bennet set down her cup so hard that it sloshed a little. “Leave Netherfield today? Nonsense, my dear, nonsense! I am certain Kitty is not nearly well enough!”

“Mr. Jones came early and said that she is much improved and it is safe for her to return to Longbourn.”

“Well, I forbid it!” her mother declared. “The horses are too busy on the farm. I am sure your father would say so!”

Elizabeth took a deep breath and said, “Mamma, when I returned from London, Father asked me to manage the horses and the farm. Did you not know that?”

Her mother tossed her head indignantly. “I did not! How absurd. You are a gentleman’s daughter, and you ought not to be involved in such things. Why can Mr. Bennet not do his own work?”

Elizabeth steadied herself and said, “Because Father is dying, Mamma.”

/

Longbourn

Two Hours Late r

Kitty looked gratefully about her familiar room, wrapped in a soft worn blanket which felt like the hug of an old friend.

The Netherfield maids had taken good care of her, but she did not care to be in strange places surrounded by strange people when she was ill; she wanted her own house and her own room.

“How are you feeling, Kitty?” Lydia demanded, hurrying into her next older sister’s bedchamber and pushing the door shut behind her.

Kitty smiled and said, “Much better, thankfully. My fever has broken and my coughing is indeed diminished.”

“I am glad,” Lydia said simply, and she meant it. She loved all of her sisters, but she was closest to Kitty.

The door opened again, and both girls turned as Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary entered, all with grave faces.

Lydia, staring at them, found her heart beating faster.

She knew that something was going on in the house, something important, and it seemed that at last the older girls were going to tell her what was happening.

“Kitty, I am so thankful you are better,” Elizabeth said.

“I am as well,” Kitty replied, eying the intruders uneasily .

“Sisters,” Jane said, “I fear I have some bad news for you all. Father is ... is very sick.”

Kitty gasped at these words, but Lydia, though her eyes were bright, said calmly, “How sick, Jane? Is he...”

She trailed off and, in spite of herself, gulped. Elizabeth moved forward and put a hand on Kitty’s shoulder, and another hand on Lydia’s arm.

“Dying?” she asked. “Yes, he believes so, and Mr. Jones thinks so as well.”

Kitty choked and began sobbing, which led to a cacophony of coughing, and Lydia quickly offered her a glass of water, while Mary, who had been standing near the door, hurried out in search of tea. By the time Kitty had calmed, Mary was back with a cup of hot tea and honey, which she handed over.

“Drink this, Kitty,” Lydia ordered, and Kitty obeyed, though miserably.

Lydia, aware that her sister was not robust either physically or emotionally, said, “I was afraid he was quite ill, but I did not know that he was...”

“At death’s door, yes,” Elizabeth said, her voice wavering. “I am sorry.”

“Why did you not tell us earlier?” Kitty sobbed .

The older girls exchanged unhappy glances, and Elizabeth said, “I apologize, my dear sisters, but Mamma – well, she was not willing to accept that something is truly wrong with Father, and every time anyone hinted at it, she responded very angrily. Father was hopeful that ought could be done, but he is ... he is certain now that the end is not far off for him.”

“Does Mamma know?” Lydia asked.

Elizabeth clenched her teeth and tightened her fists, breathed in deeply, exhaled fully, and then said, “A few hours ago, I told her, very bluntly, that Father is dying, and she refused to believe me. Indeed, she fell into hysterics and had to be dosed with laudanum and put to bed. So I cannot answer your question, Lyddy. She refuses to admit the truth, but perhaps in her heart, she knows.”

“I will go speak to her,” Lydia declared, her eyes blazing, and took a step toward the door before Elizabeth grasped her arm tightly.

“Lydia, I know this must be terribly frustrating to you, but for Father’s sake, please let Mamma be. Perhaps, with enough arguing, you can convince Mamma of the reality, but then what? She will wail and scream and carry on, and the best thing for Father is a quiet house. ”

Lydia grimaced but nodded, and Kitty asked, eyes brimming, “What will happen to us when Father dies?”

“Uncle Josiah and Aunt Charlotte will move to Longbourn, and they will take good care of us,” Elizabeth assured her. “I wrote to our London uncles last night regarding the situation and sent the letters by express. I am certain both will arrive here soon.”

“Uncle Josiah is to bring a common license with him,” Jane continued, “so that Mary and Isaac can wed before our father’s death.”

The week had been a difficult one for Kitty, and this outpouring of news proved too much. Her head swam, and she wobbled alarmingly in her chair, which caused Lydia and Jane to pounce on her and help her into bed.

“I will look after her,” Lydia promised her older sisters.

/

Dining Room

Netherfiel d

The diners filed in and claimed their usual places.

Tempting aromas wafted from the table, announcing the presence of joints of beef and varied pies and tender vegetable dishes.

Tureens of white soup and platters of mashed potatoes drowning in butter sat squished in amongst hams and ratafia cakes and puddings.

Caroline eyed the table with critical satisfaction as she took her seat. She prided herself on how fine a table she could lay. It was but one more means to prove to Mr. Darcy what an excellent mistress of Pemberley she would make.

“It is delightful having the house to ourselves again,” she said with satisfaction.

“I quite enjoy the Bennets’ company,” Bingley said truculently.

“Oh, I do too, especially the younger girls, but in smaller doses than these last days, I think.”

“I hope that Miss Kitty recovers well,” Georgiana said softly.

“Yes, I do as well,” Bingley agreed, turning an approving look on his youngest guest. “It is quite chilly today, and I worry that she departed for home too soon. ”

He spoke honestly, but he was more disappointed at the departure of Miss Bennet; the lady was, in addition to being quite the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld, charming, well mannered, and intelligent.

It was astonishing that such a treasure remained unwed, but he could only be thankful for it.

Not that he was quite ready to declare himself.

He had been attracted to other blonde lovelies in the past, but he had never maintained sufficient interest to actually make an offer.

He had only known Miss Bennet a few weeks, after all.

But she was a delightful woman, and so real, so authentic, compared to the ladies of the ton in London, who were far more inclined to speak of art they had never seen, and music they did not understand, than of mountains and ruins.

He took a long sip of dinner wine and leaned back in contemplation. He was, he thought, well on his way to being thoroughly in love with the enchanting Miss Bennet of Longbourn.

/

Longbourn

The Next Mornin g

Elizabeth blinked tears away and forced herself to concentrate on the columns of numbers.

It was still in the sitting room, as Mrs. Bennet had taken to her bed at the news of her husband’s failing health and was now being tended by poor Jane, and the younger girls were upstairs in the east wing.

The peace was expeditious in tallying the sums, but it was too quiet for Elizabeth’s taste.

The lack of distraction allowed the tide of grief to rise in her soul again, held back by only the flimsy dam of the estate work.

A sound from outside drew her attention to the window. A carriage was rolling up the drive, and Elizabeth hastily set down her pen and ledger, straightening her dress with her hands as she hurried into the foyer. She heard the steps approach, and then the door opened.

“Uncle Josiah! Uncle Gardiner!” Elizabeth exclaimed, hurrying forward to embrace first her younger, then her older, uncle. “Thank you so much for coming so quickly!”

“Of course we did,” Josiah said, and turned to embrace Lydia and Kitty as the girls rushed into the room. “My dear nieces, how are you?”

Lydia, whose usual ebullience had been thoroughly squashed by the knowledge of her father’s illness, hurled herself into her uncle’s arms and burst into tears, which prompted a similar breakdown in her next older sister.

“Oh Lyddy, Kitty,” Josiah murmured. “I am so sorry.”

The heir of Longbourn looked at Elizabeth and tilted his head toward the door, and Elizabeth, confident that her younger sisters were in good hands, guided her Uncle Gardiner out of the room and up the stairs to her father’s sitting room, where Mr. Bennet was waiting for his wife’s brother.

Her father looked terrible, Elizabeth thought sadly.

Thin to the point of gauntness, his cheeks hollow and sunken and his eyes sleepy and dull without any of the old spark.

He ate little, try as Cook might to tempt him, with his appetite almost entirely gone.

He stayed well-dosed with laudanum, and though it kept him asleep much of the time, she could only be grateful for how it dulled his pain.

“Bennet,” Gardiner said, reaching out to shake a skeletal hand. “I am so sorry to hear you are doing so poorly.”

“Gardiner,” the master of Longbourn said, gesturing toward the chair across from him. “Do sit down. Lizzy, please go. ”

Elizabeth nodded, planted a kiss on her father’s head, and departed. She was not offended at her father’s abrupt orders; she knew that he was so tired that it was difficult for him to speak at all.