Chapter 12 Anne de Burgh
Elizabeth stood at the side entrance of Rosings and hesitated, uncertain how to proceed. Miss de Bourgh had instructed her to enter by this door, yet the act was too bold, and for a moment she remained where she was, undecided.
A few minutes later, a servant approached from behind and stepped around her to open the door. “May I assist you, miss?”
“I am Miss Bennet. Miss de Bourgh directed me to enter here, as it leads directly to her private parlor on the second floor.”
The servant curtsied. “Yes, miss. Shall I conduct you upstairs?”
Elizabeth smiled. “I should be obliged.”
Elizabeth followed her up the narrow stair and soon realized it was the servants’ passage.
It struck her as odd that Miss de Bourgh should send her this way.
Did she suppose Elizabeth too insignificant to enter by the front?
She was still considering it when a small shriek broke in upon her thoughts.
“Miss Bennet! You came. Sarah, you must not tell Lady Catherine you saw me upon the back stair, nor that Miss Bennet has arrived. She is not expected until three, for I told my mother I asked Miss Bennet to arrive at a later hour. You understand, Sarah?”
The middle-aged woman chortled. “Miss Anne, you are at your tricks again. Of course, I understand. You run along, Miss, and never mind your mamma.”
Anne seized Elizabeth’s hand. “Come, let us walk. I have spent the morning shut up in a darkened room with my poor Maria.”
They hurried down the stair. Elizabeth was astonished to find Miss de Bourgh so quick and light of step. She showed no sign of breathlessness, nor any appearance of the frailty Mary had spoken of.
They did not pause until they reached the beech grove. There, Anne stopped and released her hand. “Indeed, Elizabeth, you run very well. It is rare to find a lady who does not require a rest at every turn.”
Elizabeth laughed, still surprised by her companion’s vigor.
“You will excuse me. May I call you Elizabeth? I have thought of you as Elizabeth since we met yesterday.”
Elizabeth smiled. “You may, unless you prefer Lizzy, as my sister does.”
“Lizzy… yes, I like that very much. It suits you. Please call me Anne or Annie. Let us do away with formalities and honorifics, shall we?”
Elizabeth only blinked in surprise.
Miss Anne breathed in the fresh air, and she twirled about on the green. “Oh, Lizzy, how I have needed this. I have spent nearly a month confined with my beloved Maria. The physician told me this morning that she will not survive the illness.”
Elizabeth’s expression softened. “What ails her? Does he know?”
“He believes she suffers from a tumor in the lung. Maria has reached the point where she can scarcely breathe. He brought laudanum today, saying it will ease her breathing and the pain. She finds a little relief when I fan her, but I am afraid to give her the tincture.”
Elizabeth’s brows drew together. “You need not fear. When one suffers as she must, laudanum will not harm her. The body grows accustomed to it, and in time it may cease to give relief at all. For now, it will ease her.”
“Then I shall not be afraid to give it. She is too weak to take it herself, so I must assist her.”
Elizabeth saw the anxiety in her face. “Would you like me to administer the first dose?”
“Would you? I should be much relieved if you would, at least the first time.”
“Of course. What is it you fear?”
“I do not wish to poison her.”
“If your poor Maria suffers greatly, it may be that the laudanum offers only limited relief, but we must try. Shall we go up now and give her the first dose?”
“Yes.”
Wishing to lighten her spirits, Elizabeth added, “I shall race you,” and set off in a full run toward the house. To her surprise, Miss Anne kept pace. They reached the door together and stood laughing as they caught their breath.
At last, Anne said, “You are the first woman I have ever known who can run.”
Elizabeth made a wry face. “Then I shall tell you a secret. I run every morning at sunrise.”
“You do? Where?”
“There is a track beyond the stables, near the old shooting range.”
Anne laughed. “That is the very place where I run each morning!”
“Then perhaps we may meet tomorrow and run together.”
“At what hour will you come?”
“I was here this morning at half past five. It was still dark, for I would not risk being seen, lest idle tongues in the parish fasten upon my sister and the rector.”
“Very well. I shall meet you at half past five. But come, let us go up and see what may be done to ease Maria.”
Miss Anne tapped at the door and entered her companion’s chamber. The maid at the bedside rose at once.
“Remain, Martha. We are to give Maria her medicine, and then we must go down to join my mother.”
“Yes, miss.”
The two young ladies drew near the bed, and Elizabeth heard the woman within it moaning. “Annie, where is the laudanum?”
Miss Anne went to a cupboard, brought out a small bottle and a glass rod, and placed them in Elizabeth’s hand.
Elizabeth read the directions, then bent toward Mrs. Jenkinson. “Ma’am, the instructions advise half a measure for moderate pain, and a full measure for severe. Which shall I give?”
“A full measure, if you please,” the lady whispered.
Elizabeth complied, dispensing the drops inside the patient’s cheek. When it was done, both women waited in silence.
Within a few minutes, they saw the tension leave the poor woman’s brow and shoulders.
“It has eased her. She sleeps. Come to my room, that we may refresh ourselves, and you must set your hair to rights.”
Elizabeth addressed the maid. “Pray inform Miss de Bourgh when Mrs. Jenkinson wakes again in pain.”
“Yes, Miss Bennet.”
They slipped from the room, refreshed themselves, and then went down to the drawing room to join Lady Catherine.
Elizabeth was soon prevailed upon to play and sing, and afterward they took tea together.
“Miss Bennet, have you a beau at home?”
Elizabeth lifted her eyes to meet Lady Catherine’s inquisitive gaze. “No, my lady.”
“You are a pretty enough girl. What is amiss with the gentlemen in your neighborhood?”
“The young men I grew up with have either gone to university or are serving in the Peninsular War.”
“Ah, of course. And your father has not thought to send you to London for a Season?”
“Not yet, Lady Catherine. He is in no haste to see us married.”
“You cannot be more than twenty, I am certain, but if you delay much longer, you may find yourself left upon the shelf.”
“Yes, my lady. I shall be sure to inform my father.”
Elizabeth heard Miss de Bourgh suppress a snort of laughter and had all she could do not to glance her way. Instead, she consulted her chatelaine watch and rose. “I beg your pardon, Lady Catherine. I have overstayed my visit.”
Miss de Bourgh rose as well. “Miss Bennet, will you come up with me to see Mrs. Jenkinson before you go? She may require more of her medication, and I should be glad of your assistance.”
“Certainly.”
Elizabeth curtsied to Lady Catherine and followed Miss de Bourgh from the room. They hurried up the stairs and slipped into the companion’s chamber. Mrs. Jenkinson lay restless, moaning softly in her sleep.
Miss Anne bent near. “Maria, are you in pain?”
“Yes, Annie.”
“We shall give you more of the laudanum.”
“Lizzy, the directions say we must wait two hours before administering another dose.”
Elizabeth said, “Mrs. Jenkinson is already in distress. Let us give her more, and you may consult the physician tomorrow about increasing the dose.”
Anne asked, “Maria, it is not yet time, but shall I give it to you?”
“Yes, Annie, pray do. I am in great pain.”
Elizabeth took up the glass rod, measured out the dose, and placed it within the patient’s cheek. They waited. Soon, the tension eased from the poor woman’s brow, and her body settled back against the pillows.
Anne exhaled. “She sleeps. The relief does not last long.”
“No,” Elizabeth said. “Perhaps the physician may increase the dose, or prescribe something stronger.”
“Elizabeth, would you remain with me tonight? We might take turns at her bedside.”
“Can none of the servants assist you? Must you sit up the whole night?”
Anne’s expression faltered. “She is like a mother to me. I cannot leave her, save with you, for I trust you to know what is to be done if she should require aid.”
“Very well. Ask your mother to send a note to Mr. Collins. I shall carry it to him, pack what I need, and return.”
“Thank you, Lizzy. I feel so alone, and Maria has suffered so.”
“Come, let us go to your mother.”
With Lady Catherine’s note in her hand, Elizabeth returned to the parsonage, only to find Mr. Collins had not yet returned home. He was attending to a dying parishioner and might not return until morning.
Elizabeth gave the unsealed note to Mary. After reading the missive, she said, “Let us eat and then pack you a portmanteau, Lizzy. I shall send Jack to carry it for you.”
They dined in silence, and afterward Elizabeth prepared her things and made ready to depart, escorted by the servant. Before she left, she queried her sister. “Mary, will you be comfortable here alone? Your servants are all day servants, are they not?”
“Yes, I shall be quite well, Lizzy. It is a rare pleasure to be alone with my thoughts, without my husband at my shoulder, observing every little thing I do or write.”
“But matters have improved?”
“They have indeed. He keeps busy drawing and redrawing plans for his garden, enough to plant a small estate. And the time he spends in the parish making visits is a blessing to me. Things are much better, yet I confess it is a relief to be free of him in the evening, if only for a few hours.”
“I am glad for you, Mary.”
Mrs. Jenkinson passed a troubled night, and Miss Anne woke Elizabeth in tears. Elizabeth sat up at once. “Has Mrs. Jenkinson passed?”
“No, Lizzy, but she is in great pain. We must increase the dose and remain with her to be certain she comes to no harm.”