Chapter 3 A Disturbing Prospect
“Mr. Bennet, have you heard there is an influenza outbreak in Harpenden? And we had the misfortune of shopping there for four hours today. Now my poor Jane has sickened. I am sending up a tray for her dinner.”
Lydia sat at the table, enjoying a generous repast. Mrs. Bennet reached out and touched her forehead with the back of her hand. “Lydia, my dear, you seem well enough.”
Mr. Bennet smirked. “If appetite is any indication, Lydia enjoys excellent health and spirits.”
Kitty glanced at her mother. “Are you not concerned for me, Mamma? I too was in Harpenden today.”
Mrs. Bennet waved the remark aside. “Kitty, you never sicken. Why cannot my poor Jane be as stout as you are?”
Mary and Elizabeth ate quietly and said little.
When she had finished, Elizabeth asked to be excused. “I should like to go upstairs and rest.”
“Yes, go up at once, and you too, Mary. We must not have any of you fall ill, or Mr. Jones will quarantine the house, Mr. Collins will not come, and we shall end our days in the hedgerows.”
Mr. Bennet clucked his tongue. “Mr. Collins has remained unwed these many years. He is five and twenty, Mrs. Bennet. He can easily wait another month. Pray, compose yourself. All is not yet lost.”
Elizabeth and Mary rose and left the room. When they reached the landing, Elizabeth murmured, “Come with me to Jane’s room. We must speak with her about Lydia.”
Mary hesitated. “Jane is already distressed over Mr. Goulding. She may not wish to hear of Lydia’s troubles as well.”
Elizabeth remained silent until they reached the second floor. “Perhaps Lydia’s salvation will be tied to Jane’s. Let us see what we can contrive.”
The two sisters tapped on the door and then entered to find Jane sitting at a table, her tray scarcely touched.
Elizabeth sat beside her. “You must eat, Jane, to keep your strength. Mary and I have come to speak of Lydia. In saving her, we may also save you.”
Alarmed, Jane asked, “What has our little sister done now?”
Elizabeth told all that had occurred that day and of what she had learned from Mrs. Hill.
“But what can we do?” Jane asked. “We have no money. Mamma would never allow us to send Lydia to London, and if she learned where she was, she would bring her home at once.”
Mary said, “But Papa would not. He might well leave her to Uncle Edward for a few weeks and consider himself fortunate to have Lydia’s noise removed from the house.”
“That is true,” Elizabeth said. “But our mother must be persuaded.”
Jane said, “If we could convince Mamma that I am truly ill, she might believe Lydia safer in London, away from the influenza.”
Mary frowned. “She will summon Mr. Jones.”
“Not if I refuse him. If I complain of aching eyes and pray only to be left in peace, so that I may rest, she may be convinced.”
Hope stirred. “Jane, you may easily feign the cough, the sore throat, and the weakness. Send your trays back to the kitchen nearly untouched.”
“And we shall bring you food in secret,” Mary said.
Elizabeth reasoned. “If Mamma believes this influenza is worse than what afflicted the Lucases last year, she may agree to send Lydia to Uncle Edward. I will persuade her to allow me to accompany our sister.”
Mary laughed, amused. “In this one respect, she will agree with you, for she is determined to see you married to our cousin. She will never risk your taking the illness. Pray, imagine such concern.” She lifted a brow. “I only hope I may keep Mamma from Jane’s bedside.”
“Tell her that if she sickens, she will be in no condition to receive Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth said. Then she rose and kissed Jane’s hand. “Take care, Jane. We shall contrive the rest as we are able.”