Chapter Seventeen
Elizabeth awoke with a start and for several confused seconds had no notion where she was.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn against the morning light, and she was still wearing the gown she had on the previous evening.
Then the events of the night returned all at once and she sat upright so quickly that the room swam around her.
Jane, she thought desperately. How long had she left her? She reached for the small clock upon the table and stared at it in horror. More than four hours had passed since she had been in her sister’s chamber.
Elizabeth stumbled from the bed, scarcely pausing to smooth her skirts or push back the curls that had escaped around her face. She crossed the room and hurried into the passage, fear rising with every step. Jane might have worsened while she slept or called for her when she was not there.
The sickroom door stood partly open. Elizabeth pushed through it and stopped suddenly.
The room was quieter and calmer than she remembered.
The fire had burned low, and a narrow gap in the window admitted a cool thread of morning air.
Her father sat near the foot of the bed, his elbows resting upon his knees and his face drawn with fatigue.
Dr Parodi stood beside Jane with two fingers pressed to her wrist, while Caroline occupied the chair nearest the pillows, carefully squeezing drops of water from a folded cloth between Jane's lips.
"Has there been any change?" she asked, moving towards the bed.
"Her breathing is no worse," Dr Parodi said. "She has swallowed a little water and stirred twice, though she has not fully woken."
Elizabeth reached for Jane's hand. Her sister's skin remained hot, though she thought it did not burn as fiercely as before.
She stood there for several moments, studying every shallow rise and fall of Jane's chest, before her father rose and drew the empty chair beside his own a little closer. "Come and sit down, Lizzy."
There was something in his voice that made her obey without argument.
She lowered herself beside him, and Mr Bennet rested his palm lightly over hers.
"I am sorry, Lizzy," he said after a while.
"You were right about the weather and I should have listened.
I knew exactly what your mother was hoping for, but I could not face the argument and told myself Jane would be perfectly well. "
She noticed both Caroline and the doctor were very still, but if they overheard the conversation they made no sign of it.
His eyes moved towards the bed. There was none of the usual humour in his face and he looked suddenly much older.
"I have left too much to you for years," he continued. You see what needs doing and do it, while I sit back and congratulate myself on laughing at everyone’s foolishness.
"You walked all the way here alone and have scarcely left Jane's side since.
Meanwhile, I remained at Longbourn telling myself there was nothing useful I could do, when the truth was that I did not want to face how badly I had failed you both. "
Elizabeth looked down at their joined hands. "You came as soon as you knew she had worsened."
"Which was much, much later than I should have done."
His hand closed more firmly around hers.
"We shall speak of it when Jane is well," Elizabeth said, because she could not bear to say any more without crying.
Mr Bennet looked towards the bed and nodded solemnly. "When Jane is well."
???
Over the next few days, time lost all meaning.
Jane continued much as she was, growing no worse but showing no marked improvement.
Elizabeth and Caroline took turns beside her, while the Bennets, the Bingleys, the Hursts and, on more than one occasion, Mr Darcy maintained a loose rotation through the sickroom and the adjoining parlour.
There had been no opportunity for Elizabeth to speak privately with Mr Darcy since their walk in the garden.
In truth, her mind was too tired and too consumed by Jane's condition to dwell upon what had passed between them.
Even so, she was aware of him whenever he entered the room.
She caught his gaze upon her more than once, full of concern he made no attempt to disguise, and each time it lingered just long enough to make her feel that he understood how close she was to coming apart.
Mr Bingley scarcely left the upper floor.
Dr Parodi permitted him only short periods in the sickroom, insisting that Jane needed quiet, but whenever he was turned out, he stationed himself in the adjoining parlour or paced the passage beyond her door.
He carried trays or fetched fresh water before the basin was half empty, continually looking for opportunities to keep his eyes on the woman—and Elizabeth was quite sure of this now—he loved.
When he was allowed to sit beside Jane for brief periods, he became very still.
He held her hand and spoke to her in a low voice about ordinary things, as though she had merely closed her eyes to rest and might answer him at any moment.
Elizabeth heard him describe the changing weather, a book he thought she might enjoy and a new puppy in the stables.
But she saw the wear of those days upon him in the shadows beneath his eyes and the fear that returned to his face whenever Jane's breathing changed.
Dr Parodi appeared to require even less rest than Mr Bingley.
He slept in brief snatches in a chair in the adjoining room, waking at the slightest change in Jane's breathing, and examined her so often that Elizabeth began to recognise the pattern of it.
He methodically recorded each change in a small black notebook he carried in his coat pocket, counting Jane's pulse, listening carefully to her breathing and checking the heat of her skin before making another neat entry with his pencil.
Through it all, he remained calm, even when Mr Bingley pressed him for answers he did not have or Caroline delivered trays and refused to leave him until he had eaten something.
At some point during the second day, he recommended a draught for Mrs Bennet's nerves, which had the happy effect of soothing not only her but the entire household.
Only when he believed himself unobserved did the effort show in the way he pressed his fingers against his eyes or stood for a moment with both hands braced upon the washstand.
Elizabeth learned with some astonishment that Dr Parodi had been practising independently for only six months.
She would never have guessed it from his assured manner.
He never pretended to know more than he did or offered comfort he could not honestly give, but there was such confidence in every decision that the household had begun to trust him without question.
Even Mr Jones, who returned the following morning looking ready to defend his treatment, left after a long private conversation with the younger man, assuring the family that the good doctor knew what he was about.
Even through her exhaustion, Elizabeth began to notice something curious between Caroline and Dr Parodi.
More than once, she looked up to find one watching the other, only for them to glance away.
Caroline seemed to know what he needed before he asked, often appearing with fresh linen or another candle at just the right moment.
He always thanked her politely, but there was something in the way he looked at her that Elizabeth could not quite understand.
It was towards dawn on the third morning that hope arrived at Netherfield.
Elizabeth had been sitting beside Jane for so long that the shadows around the room had begun to blur into all manner of strange creatures.
Caroline slept in the chair by the fire with her head tipped awkwardly against the wing, while Dr Parodi stood at the window making another entry in his black notebook.
Mr Bingley had been persuaded to rest in the adjoining room, though Elizabeth thought she could hear him pacing beyond the wall.
Jane stirred beneath her hand. At first, Elizabeth thought it was no more than another restless movement, but then her sister drew a deeper breath than she had managed in days. Her eyelids fluttered and a faint sound escaped her.
Dr Parodi was beside the bed almost before Elizabeth could call his name.
He pressed his fingers to Jane's wrist, then bent close to listen to her breathing.
Caroline woke at the movement and came quickly towards them, her eyes heavy with sleep.
"Thomas," she said sleepily, and Elizabeth blinked at her stupidly. Who was Thomas?
Dr Parodi made a small noise of triumph and her head snapped towards him. "What is it?" Elizabeth asked. "Has something changed?"
Dr Parodi did not answer at once. He checked Jane's pulse again, then laid the back of his hand against her forehead.
The silence stretched until Elizabeth could hear nothing but the blood rushing in her ears.
At last, he let out a slow breath. "Her fever is completely gone and her chest has eased substantially. "
"She will recover?" Caroline asked in a trembling voice.
Dr Parodi looked towards her. The exhaustion in his face softened, and for the first time since his arrival, Elizabeth saw something close to relief break through his careful composure. "I believe she has an excellent chance."
For a moment, Elizabeth only stared at him.
Then the meaning of his words reached her and she started to sob with relief.
The tears came with such force that her whole body shook and she dropped into the chair beside Jane, resting her forehead to her sister's hand.
It felt cool and smooth beneath her skin.
Caroline's arm came around her shoulders, while Dr Parodi stepped back to give them room.