Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
C aroline Bingley was not of a mind to entertain what she saw as a shameless attempt by Jane Bennet to gain attention. Miss Bingley was inclined to tell the butler to close the door in Jane’s face, and send her straight back to Longbourn. Mrs Hurst, knowing what such a measure would do to their brother’s reputation, had Jane immediately shown to a guest room with a roaring fire, and sent her a gown to wear.
Once Jane Bennet was back downstairs, dry, and in the drawing room, she made every effort to engage in pleasant conversation with Mr Bingley’s sisters. Mrs Hurst was willing to be friendly, though Miss Bingley, still steaming over her guest’s presumption, was cold and non-committal. Jane, still chilled from the autumn rain shower, began to wonder why she was even there, or whether she should bother to continue with the evening at all. Should she just request a carriage and return home? Finally the butler arrived to announce dinner, and the ladies entered the dining room.
It was as Mr Bingley had described to her. The entire meal was an interrogation from start to finish. Her accomplishments, her dowry, her connections. Jane, who was beginning to feel really unwell, was losing her patience with all of the sisters’ questions and innuendo. In a rare moment of pique, she began to consider telling fibs, and making her connections sound ghastly indeed. By the last course, she had heard so many tales about Mr Bingley’s conquests in town, and his affinity for Miss Georgiana Darcy that she decided that she would not stay another minute. These women had no desire to befriend her. They were behaving exactly as their brother said they did with each of his romantic interests, and she had no inclination to pretend a friendship with anyone who did not mean it.
The moment she laid down her fork, she said, “My dear friends, I apologise for my dullness, but the chill from the rain has given me a headache. Might I trouble you to send for my father’s carriage? The groom was to follow me later in the evening, when the horses had finished their work on the home farm.”
“I wonder that you troubled to go out on horseback at all, Miss Bennet, when it looked for all the world like it should rain,” answered Caroline Bingley.
“This is England, Miss Bingley, it always looks like it will rain,” answered Jane serenely, refusing to be ruffled. “If one was to stay in every time the skies were grey, no one should ever leave the house. But I do thank you so much for your hospitality, and I apologise that I am not equal to staying an hour or two in your lovely music room.”
Mrs Hurst sent the footman with the order for the carriage, and shortly thereafter, the ladies made their way to the hall. “Miss Bennet, I have no wish to insult you. But you look exceedingly unwell. You should retire upstairs, and stay the night. If you are still feeling ill in the morning, we should be glad to send for the apothecary. Your colour is high indeed, I fear for your health.” Mrs Hurst did not like Miss Bennet as a possible match for her brother, but the young lady looked feverish indeed, and she had no desire to be held responsible by her brother if the woman fell severely ill, and his sisters had not extended every hospitality. Louisa wanted Charles to marry someone who would bring better connections to her and her husband, and who would throw Caroline into the paths of rich men, else they should never be rid of their younger sister.
“My dear Mrs Hurst, I would not dream of putting you out. I simply must return home. The journey is not long, and I will rest better in my own bed,” Jane insisted.
At this, there was a clatter in the drive, but it was the gentlemen, and not Miss Bennet’s carriage. The men entered as Mrs Hurst continued to fret over Jane’s appearance, and Miss Bingley argued with her sister, snidely insisting that if Miss Bennet did not wish for their hospitality, that they should not extend it.
“I am relieved, Miss Bennet, that you did not go out in your father’s carriage!” exclaimed Mr Bingley as the men entered the hall, removing their wet outerwear. “Just after we crossed the bridge, it fair swept away! I have never seen anything so terrifying!”
“There is another lane, Mr Bingley, between our two estates; it is narrow and dark, but there is no bridge. Our coachman John has travelled it many times, in every weather. I shall be quite safe, I assure you.” Jane was not quite as certain as she sounded, but she had endured enough from this man’s sisters, and refused to allow them to say she had encroached upon their hospitality.
“Charles, I fear Miss Bennet might be unwell. She was drenched on her way here, and caught a chill, and now she has the headache. Do assist me in persuading her to remain the night, she looks feverish,” Mrs Hurst said insistently to her brother. To be rude to the object of his recent attentions in his absence was one thing. Now that he was here, she knew that to be anything other than solicitous in his presence would be unwise. Her brother had been angry indeed that last time Louisa and Caroline had chased away the lady he was courting, and if he withdrew his invitation for her and Mr Hurst to live with him, her husband would be displeased with her.
“Miss Bennet, my sister is correct, you do look feverish! Please, you must stay the night. You could not be so cruel as to go out into the dark, and force me to spend the night worrying for your health and safety.”
Jane, feeling rather more obstinate than usual after his sisters’ reception of her, was determined to return to her father’s house, and it was on the tip of her tongue to insist, when the pressure in her head suddenly became too much. The room turned white, and she swooned.
The following morning, a letter was conveyed at breakfast to Longbourn that Jane was desperately feverish, and that the apothecary had been sent for. Elizabeth was outraged that their mother’s shenanigans had brought Jane to this, and reminded her mother that Jane could not be courted by Mr Bingley if she were confined to her rooms. She then set off across the fields to see to her sister as soon as may be. She arrived at Netherfield Park an hour and a half later, blowsy, and covered in mud, and was shown into the breakfast room.
Caroline and Louisa, who kept town hours, were sitting down to breakfast with Mr Hurst when she was shown in. “Miss Bennet, did you walk here?” exclaimed Caroline.
“I did, Miss Bingley. Most of the population walks a great deal in the country,” Elizabeth said patiently.
“But your hem is six inches deep in mud!” Caroline said, scandalised.
“That is why all of my walking gowns are brown, Miss Bingley, because the country is plagued by mud,” Elizabeth returned. “Might I be shown to my sister with all haste?”
When Elizabeth entered Jane’s room, she was amazed to find Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy present, along with Mrs Nichols. “Miss Elizabeth forgive us. I know it appears unseemly, but Miss Bennet is gravely ill, and my sisters are not nurses. I am glad you are here.”
The apothecary entered from the dressing room, where he had been washing his hands in the basin before examining Jane. “Miss Lizzy, I am glad you’ve come. Miss Bennet appears to have contracted the grippe that has lately plagued Netherfield’s tenants.”
“Oh Jane,” Elizabeth said. “You should not have gone to Queenie’s with that basket for Twister.”
“Do you mean to say there is an outbreak on this estate?” asked Darcy. “Why was Bingley not informed?”
“It is not a severe outbreak, sir.” Mrs Nichols replied. “Only three families so far, but Miss Bennet here would insist on bringing a basket and looking in. Miss Bingley was informed, but she gave no orders to send relief.”
“At Pemberley, the master would be informed,” grumbled Darcy.
“To my knowledge, sir, Pemberley has no mistress, or so I am told. Of course such things would be reported to the master, in absence of a mistress,” Elizabeth said. “At most estates, unless the outbreak was severe, relief efforts would fall under the purview of your wife, if you had one.”
“You mean to say that Miss Bennet is ill because she attended my tenants, due to the neglect of my sister?” cried Bingley.
“Of course not, sir. This estate has been neglected for many years. Some of the other women of the area visit your tenants regularly, and do what they can in the absence of a master, but no one had heard that Miss Bingley had not done her duty. Jane visited your tenants because we have known them for many years. Queenie is the local midwife, and delivered all of my mother’s children. Jane would have made the visit in any circumstance,” Elizabeth assured him.
“That does not change the fact that I am the master here now, and I should have known, and done something!” agonised Mr Bingley. “That physician from the next town over that we met last night, Mr what-was-his-name? Darcy? Was it Miller? Should we send for him?”
“No thank you , we shall have no bleeding or purgatives for Miss Bennet!” shouted the apothecary in alarm.
When the gentlemen looked shocked by the man’s volume and boldness, Elizabeth explained. “Mr Miller is known for his belief in purging and blood-letting. More of his patients die than not. My mother never allowed him to treat us again after our young brother died from scarlet fever after his attentions. Most of us in the village are content with the care of Mr Jones.”
“Miss Bennet is a healthy woman with a strong constitution, but bleeding her when she has the grippe would finish her off,” Mr Jones insisted. “In the absence of Mr and Mrs Bennet, I must forbid her to be subjected to a procedure they would not approve of in my presence.”