Chapter 22 Struck Down
Georgiana was at the pianoforte when Lady Catherine entered the room. She cast her gaze about her.
“Where is Anne?”
“She sits with Miss Bennet.”
“Richard, have her come down at once. She will take the inflammation herself. Anne is too delicate to withstand such an illness. If Miss Bennet, who is strong, has been laid low, it may carry my daughter away.”
Darcy entered the room.
“My cousin remains in the chamber, but she does not attend the patient. Mrs. Collins performs all that Miss Bennet requires.”
“And how do you know this, nephew?”
Richard said, “Our cousin keeps us informed of Miss Elizabeth’s condition, Aunt. Shall I call her down, that you may see for yourself she remains well?”
“Ring the bell, Richard. Ask Drake to send for my daughter. I shall judge for myself how she goes on.”
She turned upon Darcy with displeasure. “I place the blame for this illness upon you, Fitzwilliam. You encouraged that woman with your marked attentions. I can plainly see that you have fallen prey to her arts and allurements. And do not suppose I failed to observe the manner in which you regarded her. You seated yourself so near as to invite her to reciprocate.”
Georgiana ceased her playing.
“Do not distress yourself, Georgie. Lady Catherine is only offering her opinion. There is nothing between Miss Bennet and me, Aunt, so you need not persist in this manner. You are making us all uncomfortable.”
Anne had come down and now stood at the entrance to the drawing room. “Mamma, pray, this does not serve us. We already feel great concern for Elizabeth’s health. You need not increase our distress with unfounded accusations against Fitzwilliam.”
Lady Catherine turned upon her daughter and pointed an accusing finger. “As for you, I observed how you regarded your cousin. Do not present me with that innocent air. I saw how you looked at him, and he at you.”
Color rose in Anne’s cheeks. She glanced toward Richard and found him smiling. She relaxed. And then a laugh escaped her.
“How did I look at my cousin, mamma? Did I gaze upon him with longing, or with hunger?”
Lady Catherine recoiled. “Anne. You forget yourself. How dare you address your mother so?”
“I shall tell you how I looked at him. I wished him to ask me to marry him. That, mamma, is how a woman looks when she loves a man.”
Richard’s smile widened. He rose and went to her side.
“I accept your offer, Annie. I love you and wish to never be parted from you.”
She placed her arms about his neck, and he bent and kissed her.
The other three occupants of the room fell into stunned silence. Then Lady Catherine stirred.
“How dare you conduct yourselves in such an improper manner before me, your intended, and your young cousin? Shall the honor of Pemberley be so disgraced?”
“Mamma, pray, Pemberley has no place in this. Richard and I shall marry, and we shall reside here at Rosings, for Papa left this house to me. Do you not know that I have loved my cousin since I was a child? Marriage to him has always been my dearest wish. Richard is my dream come to fruition.”
Lady Catherine was furious. Her face contorted with a rage her family had never before witnessed, and then her complexion darkened to a deep purple.
Darcy was concerned by the spectacle and thought that if she did not govern her fury, she would bring on an apoplexy. He saw her raise a hand to her head, and then she fell. She was too far for him to catch her before she struck the floor.
Richard released Anne, and all three hurried to her side. He felt for her pulse. “She lives. It may be a faint.”
“Mamma, I am sorry. I am sorry.” Anne cried.
She sank to her knees. “This rests upon me. I should not have teased her.”
“We must carry her to her bed,” Darcy said. “Anne, ring for a footman. Have him bring a leaf from the dining table. We will use it to carry her upstairs.”
Half an hour later, Lady Catherine lay settled in her bed, while Anne applied the smelling salts without effect. Dr. Miller was shown in and immediately began to examine his patient.
“I believe she has suffered an apoplexy, Miss Anne. Had it been only a faint, the salts would have revived her by now. We must wait and see whether she recovers from the attack.”
Anne began to weep. Richard drew her close, and she rested against him.
“Dr. Miller, what may be done for my aunt?”
“Very little. You may attempt to give her water with a toddy lifter, as you have done for Miss Bennet, but if her mind is much affected, the organs will fail, and she will pass. We can only wait and see which course it takes.”
He turned to Anne. “Shall I prepare a calming draught for you, Miss Anne?”
“No, sir. I wish to sit up with my mother.”
He gathered his instruments and addressed Darcy.
“Sir, you sent for me on account of Miss Bennet. Has her condition worsened?”
“Yes, Dr. Miller. She complains of pain along her ribs and a burning in her lungs. Her lips bear a bluish cast, and she speaks but little.”
“I will go to her, though her lungs showed improvement when I examined her earlier. The force of her cough has likely strained the muscles along her ribs, which accounts for her pain. The burning arises from the inflammation.”
The physician withdrew, and Darcy followed. He entered quietly and took his place against the wall, hoping to pass unnoticed.
He watched as Dr. Miller placed his ear at several points along Elizabeth’s back while Mary supported her upon her side.
He straightened and smiled at the young lady. “Mrs. Collins, the treatments prove effective. I hear air moving throughout the lungs, even to the lower parts on both sides. The breath sounds remain diminished, and there is some rhonchi, yet her condition improves.”
He turned to Mr. Darcy. “Do you have any questions, sir?”
“She is often flushed, doctor.”
“Yes, she will remain feverish while her body contends with the inflammation. Continue the percussion, for it affords her benefit. Mrs. Collins, administer the willow bark tea about thirty minutes before the treatment, to ease the pain she feels in her muscles.”
“Mr. Darcy, there is no other treatment to prescribe. The herbal tinctures she is taking are the most effective. Mrs. Collins, send for me if her condition worsens.”
“Thank you, Dr. Miller.”
Darcy followed the physician out. “Sir, we are about to dine. Will you join us?”
“I shall, young man. I have no other calls at present.”
“Pray come, sir. May I offer you a drink?”
“The cognac you served earlier was the finest I have tasted, Mr. Darcy.”
“Allow me to pour you a glass, sir.”
When dinner concluded, the physician took his leave.
Darcy, Richard, and Georgiana sat alone in the drawing room when the sound of a carriage reached them from the drive.
After a few minutes, Drake announced Miss Jane Bennet.
Introductions were made, and then he escorted her upstairs to her sister’s chamber.
“She appears near two and twenty, would you not say, Darcy?”
“Yes, that seems right. Miss Elizabeth has not yet reached one and twenty.”
“She is a handsome woman.”
“Mrs. Collins gave me to understand that this sister and Miss Elizabeth both possess skill in the care of the sick,” Darcy said.
Georgiana drew nearer to her brother. “May I go up to my cousin? I believe Anne would welcome some diversion.”
“That is kind of you, Georgiana. Let us know if Anne is in need of anything.”
Drake escorted Jane Bennet up the grand staircase. She took care not to appear an eager country girl dazzled by the magnificence of the house and its furnishings, though inwardly she could not help but feel astonished by such grandeur.
At last, they stopped before a bedchamber door, and the butler knocked softly. Jane heard hurried footsteps, and then the door flew open, and Mary threw herself into her arms.
“Jane. Oh, Jane. I have longed to have you here with us. Lizzy is so ill, and I fear for her.”
The butler discreetly withdrew and closed the door behind him.
Mary began to weep. “Oh, Jane, I pray Lizzy will recover. Come and see her.”
“What says the physician?” Jane removed her bonnet and then her pelisse.
Mary dried her eyes and attempted to compose herself. “Forgive me. She is not dying. Dr. Miller says she will recover and that her condition has improved to his satisfaction. Yet, she appears very ill. Come and look at her.”
Mary lifted a candlestick and led her sister to the bed. Jane studied Elizabeth’s face with alarm.
“Her lips are very blue, and I have never seen our sister so pale. Her skin is also blue.”
She bent over the bed and gently shook her. “Lizzy. Lizzy, wake up. Can you hear me?”
“I believe she sleeps. Her nights and days are confused, and she remained wakeful much of last night.”
“Mary, help me turn her upon her side so that I may listen to her lungs.”
Together, they shifted Elizabeth gently. Jane placed her ear against her sister’s back and listened carefully. When she straightened, her expression eased somewhat.
“She is indeed very ill, but I hear air moving throughout the lungs. Yet she remains feverish. Come, sister, let us heat water and prepare a poultice.”
The two sisters set themselves to Elizabeth’s care, and when they had finished, Mr. Darcy arrived to perform the percussion treatment.
Jane stood aside in astonishment as the nephew of the house entered her sister’s chamber and personally administered the treatment. She watched his face closely.
He is in love with my sister.
Jane did not know whether to feel joy or apprehension. Could a gentleman so elevated in rank truly harbor honorable intentions toward a humble country gentlewoman with neither fortune nor powerful connections?
When he had finished and quietly excused himself, Jane hurried to the bedside. Elizabeth had curled up on her side, exhausted by a violent fit of coughing.
“Lizzy, how are you? Drink this honeyed tea. It is a mixture the Harpenden apothecary prepared for me.”
“Jane?”
“Yes, my dear. I have come to you.”
“Jane, you are here. And Mary?”
“Mary is here as well.”
Mary drew near the bed. Elizabeth reached for each sister’s hand and held them tightly.
“Am I dying?”
“No, Lizzy, you are not dying. You progress very well. Air moves freely through your lungs. Your lips remain blue, but you are mending. I have no fear for you.”
“It is well then. I am so tired, I can hardly keep my eyes open.”
Elizabeth turned upon her side and fell asleep almost at once.
Darcy returned to the drawing room and settled into a chair beside his cousin.
“Darcy, I wish to marry Annie tomorrow, or the day following. If my aunt does not recover, we must wait at least six months before we may marry. I would remain here with my cousin and support her through what lies ahead.”
“Yes, Richard. If you depart early tomorrow, you may reach London within two hours. The rector can perform the ceremony the following day. I shall stand with you, and Mrs. Collins may attend Anne.”
“I shall go up and speak with her now. She may hesitate out of regard for her mother.”
“Tell her we both judge it best that the marriage take place as soon as possible.”
Richard left him then, and Darcy remained alone.
His thoughts returned to Elizabeth. How had he come to love her in so short a time?
Never had he felt so for any woman. Fear for her health pressed upon him.
When she coughed, he saw the struggle for breath, as if she labored against suffocation. He covered his eyes with his hand.
He wished to marry her, above all else he had ever desired.
He longed to sit beside her bed, to care for her and watch over her.
He believed she returned his regard. Nothing stood between them now.
His Uncle Henry would not approve, yet with Aunt Catherine no longer able to oppose him, his uncle was unlikely to stand in his way.
Hope rose within him. There remained no true obstacle. When she grew strong enough to come downstairs, he would offer for her.