Chapter Fifteen
Caroline stood beside Elizabeth at the window while Mr Jones examined Jane.
Neither had spoken since the apothecary entered the room.
Elizabeth held the edge of the curtain so tightly that her fingers had gone white, while Caroline stared out across the dark drive and waited for the sound of wheels.
Behind them, Jane lay unmoving beneath the bedclothes.
Her fair hair had come loose during the confusion downstairs and spread across the pillow, while the fever burned two bright patches into her otherwise colourless face.
Mr Jones had spoken her name several times and shaken her gently, but she had not stirred.
Now he held his fingers against her wrist, his face sombre.
Charles stood on the other side of the bed.
His coat and waistcoat had been discarded somewhere between the dining room and the stairs, and his cravat hung loose at his throat.
He watched the apothecary’s every movement with such desperate hope that Caroline could scarcely bear to look at him.
He should not be in the bedchamber of course, but no one had the heart to tell him to leave.
Mr Jones bent over Jane once more, placing his ear close to her mouth before drawing the blankets higher around her.
When he straightened, the gravity in his face caused Elizabeth to release the curtain and turn fully towards him.
"Her fever has returned with considerable force," he said.
"Her pulse is very rapid, and I do not like the sound of her breathing.
Has she regained consciousness at all since she collapsed? "
Elizabeth shook her head. "Not even for a moment."
Charles came closer to the bed. "But she was recovering. You said yourself this morning that she might leave her room."
"She appeared much improved when I last saw her," Mr Jones replied carefully. "Sometimes a patient rallies before the illness takes a more serious turn. I cannot tell you why it has happened, Mr Bingley, only that I am concerned that the illness has spread to her lungs."
Elizabeth let out a cry and Caroline reached for her hand, holding it tightly between both of her own in a desperate attempt to offer some comfort.
The apothecary’s final word seemed to hollow Charles out. He sank into the chair beside the bed limply, like a marionette whose strings had been cut. He reached for Jane’s hand, rubbing it gently as though he might warm her back to consciousness.
Mr Jones looked towards Elizabeth. "You should send for your parents, Miss Elizabeth. I do not wish to alarm you unnecessarily, but they ought to be here."
For several seconds, Elizabeth did not answer. Caroline felt her sway slightly beside her and caught her arm before she could lose her balance.
Charles looked up quickly. "The carriage has already left for Longbourn. I hope her mother and father shall be here before too long."
His voice broke, and he turned back towards Jane before anyone could respond.
Caroline felt guilt settle across her shoulders like a heavy blanket.
She had invited Jane to Netherfield and caused her to be caught in the rain.
Even tonight, she had watched her grow pale over dinner and noticed that she scarcely ate, but had allowed herself to be consumed by her quarrel with Charles.
Even when Jane coughed, Caroline had accepted her assurance that it was nothing because it had been easier than abandoning the argument.
She ought never to have allowed her downstairs at all.
"Where is Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth asked, her voice shaking. Caroline heard the fear beneath it and her heart broke for Elizabeth. She imagined Louisa lying in the bed and just how scared she would be for her sister in the same circumstances.
Charles rubbed one hand across his face. "He left almost as soon as we brought Jane upstairs. His uncle recommended a physician in London in his recent correspondence, and Darcy believed he might persuade the man to return with him tonight."
"The Earl recommended him?" Caroline asked.
Charles nodded solemnly, his eyes never leaving Jane’s pale face. "Darcy said his uncle’s name might carry some influence if the physician was unwilling to travel at this hour."
Elizabeth looked towards the dark window once more. A little of the terrible strain eased from her face, though only a little.
Of course Mr Darcy had gone. He had not waited to be asked or paused to consider the distance. Elizabeth’s sister was in danger, and that had been enough to send him riding through the night. Caroline only hoped it would do some good.
???
Mr and Mrs Bennet arrived a little after eleven.
Caroline watched their carriage sweep into the drive, which had been hastily illuminated by torches.
Mrs Bennet hurried through the front doors noisily, calling Jane’s name before she had even crossed the hall.
Elizabeth came down to meet them, her face ashen and drawn, and supported her mother’s arm before she led them upstairs.
Mr Bennet paused only long enough to thank Charles for sending the carriage.
Mrs Bennet did not pause at all. Her distressed voice could still be heard faintly from above, though it became muffled once the bedchamber door closed.
Caroline found Charles in the study some time later.
Louisa was seated near the fire, a novel in her hand that hung limply as she gazed into the flames while Mr Hurst stood beside the mantel with a glass in his hand.
Caroline supposed Mr Goulding must have left during the confusion.
She could not remember seeing him depart, and she had no idea whether anyone had offered him the barest courtesy before the household rushed upstairs.
Under other circumstances, she might have been mortified.
Tonight, it seemed a very distant concern.
Charles stood at the window with his back to the room. He had been in that position when Caroline entered and did not turn or move at the sound of the door closing behind her. She crossed the room and stopped a few feet behind her brother. She reached out and tentatively touched his arm. "Charles."
His shoulders stiffened, but when he finally turned, there was no anger left in his face. He looked exhausted, his eyes red and his hair still disordered from repeatedly dragging his hands through it.
"I am so very, very sorry," Caroline said. "I reacted badly, I know you were trying to do what you believed was best for me."
Charles lowered his gaze. "And I behaved like a pompous ass. I had no right to speak to you as I did, nor to turn the entire evening into such a ridiculous display."
"It was a remarkably ridiculous display," she allowed indulgently.
"I know." His mouth shifted as though he might almost smile, but the expression disappeared. "I thought Mr Goulding might suit you. He is kind and settled, and he did not appear at all intimidated by you."
"Most men are intimidated by me because I have taken considerable pains to ensure it."
"That is precisely it." Charles looked at her more directly. "Since we came to Netherfield, you have seemed more like yourself. The old Caro, I mean. Happier than you have been for a very long time."
Louisa shifted in her chair but did not interrupt.
"You laughed," Charles continued more quietly.
"You took an interest in Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, even if you would rather expire than admit it.
For the first time in years, you seemed almost happy.
I thought perhaps it was the right time.
That you might be willing to let someone know you properly. "
Caroline looked towards the fire and sighed.
"You mistook the cause," she said at last. "No one expected anything of me here.
The Bennet sisters were kind when I had given them very little reason to be, and there were no impoverished gentlemen circling in hopes of my fortune.
For the first time in years, I did not feel obliged to guard every word or look.
Netherfield became something of a refuge, and I suppose I allowed myself to be more as I once was. "
Charles nodded slowly, but when he spoke again his voice was unsteady.
"I understand that now. I hurt you because I was so certain I knew what was best, and while I was busy forcing the evening to go as I wished, Jane was sitting there growing worse before my eyes.
I saw only what I wanted to see. If anything happens to her...
" He stopped and looked away, unable to finish.
Caroline’s throat tightened. His words only deepened the dread already lodged beneath her ribs. "I saw it too," she said. "She was pale, and she scarcely touched her dinner. I knew she was not well, but I was so intent upon being angry with you that I did not pay enough attention."
Charles looked back at her, his face stricken. "You could not have known."
"Neither could you," she said earnestly, stepping forward and squeezing his upper arms. "I brought her here," she said quietly. "She was caught in the rain because of me, and now she may..." Caroline stopped, unable to give the fear its proper name. "I thought I was helping them."
Charles stared at her for a moment. "Helping whom?"
Caroline closed her eyes. There seemed little purpose in guarding the truth now. "You and Jane. Mr Darcy and Elizabeth. I saw what was happening and thought I might encourage matters along. It all seemed so harmless."
"You invited Jane because you wanted her here with me?"
"That was part of it."
A faint, incredulous sound escaped him, though there was no humour in it. "Caro."
"I know." She pressed her fingers against her brow.
"It was arrogant and meddlesome, and I had no right to interfere.
And then to get angry with you for doing the very same thing.
I told myself I was doing something kind, but perhaps I only want to prove I can arrange happiness for other people because I made such a wreck of my own. "
Charles’ expression softened. "You did not make Jane ill."
"I am so very frightened," she admitted.
The words emerged so quietly that she was not certain Charles had heard them.
Then his face crumpled and he stepped forwards, gathering her into his arms. Caroline held herself stiffly for only a moment before giving way.
She pressed her face against his shoulder and clung to him.
"I am sorry," Charles murmured into her hair. "For all of it."
"So am I."
A rustle of skirts came from beside the fire, and Louisa wrapped her arms around them both without asking permission. "I refuse to sit here and watch the two of you reconcile without me."
Caroline let out an unsteady laugh.
Mr Hurst remained beside the mantel, watching them over the rim of his glass. "Am I expected to join in this peculiar sibling bonding?"
Louisa did not lift her head from Caroline’s shoulder. "No, darling."
"That is a relief," he said, and returned his attention to his drink.
Mr Hurst retired shortly after, but the three siblings remained together before the fire, Charles’ arm firm around Caroline’s shoulders and Louisa pressed close against her side.
For the first time that evening, Caroline allowed herself to stop thinking.
She closed her eyes and let the tiredness that had suddenly overcome her claim her. All they could do was wait.
She did not know how much time had passed before the sound of wheels upon the drive brought them all upright, but the sky had begun to brighten with the early light of day.
Charles was up and out of the room before Caroline and Louisa had fully regained consciousness.
They followed more slowly, reaching the hall just as the front doors were opened and Mr Darcy stepped inside, pale with exhaustion and still dressed for riding.
A second man entered behind him. He carried a physician’s case in one hand and removed his hat with the other, revealing dark hair dampened by the night air.
He looked older than the boy Caroline remembered, broader through the shoulders and more serious about the eyes, but she knew him before he lifted his head.
Thomas. Her Thomas.
She saw the recognition dawn in his eyes and his mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.
She could feel the blood pumping in her ears and for one horrible moment she thought her legs may simply give way beneath her.
But she simply stared at him, her tired mind refusing to make sense of his presence in front of her.
Then Mr Darcy broke the spell. "Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley, Mrs Hurst, this is Dr Parodi."