Chapter 19 #2
Everything was slow and then very fast. People were rushing this way and that, clearing off the dining table, moving furniture, opening doors, and sending for a doctor.
The Bennets’ groom and coachman had joined Lady Catherine’s servants, and Papa was directing them to carry Lady Catherine’s body into the dining room.
“Lizzy, what did you do?” asked her father.
“Why does everyone assume I am at fault?”
Her mother glared at her, and Elizabeth ran into Jane’s outstretched arms.
“Jane, I assure you, I did nothing.”
“I know,” Jane whispered. Then Jane turned to Mrs Hill and asked to have a servant sent to Netherfield to retrieve Mr Bingley.
How much time had passed as she stood rooted to that spot Elizabeth could not say, but a doctor entered, as did Mr Bingley with a servant, who was quickly dispatched back to Netherfield to send word to Mr Darcy at Pemberley.
Mr Darcy.
Mr Darcy.
He had been at Netherfield until recently, but when he had departed, she could not say, for she had refused invitations to dine there and had insisted on walks alone rather than ones with Jane and Mr Bingley that included him.
She had kept to herself and then was told he had gone, sending his regards through Jane who disapproved of Elizabeth’s behaviour towards him.
“Your anger is misplaced, Lizzy,” Jane had said.
And, “He has said he had something to attend to when Mr Collins passed. You must allow for there to be more than one pressing matter at any moment.” And, “Your cruelty will not bring Mr Collins back.” Elizabeth knew her dear sister was right on all counts, but could not change how she viewed the events or her feelings.
The doctor declared Lady Catherine deceased, which was no surprise to anyone, for the great lady had not moved since the moment she collapsed.
What to do now?
Mr Bingley said he would accompany the body to Rosings the next morning, and returned to Netherfield to prepare for his departure.
Jane walked part of the way with him, Papa stepped out to make arrangements for Lady Catherine’s servants to spend the night, and her younger sisters followed Mama to her room where all tended to her nerves as she wailed about what others would think when they learned Lady Catherine had died in their garden.
Elizabeth was now alone with the body. She stepped forward. Lady Catherine’s eyes had been closed, but her expression, even in death, was that of disdain.
What had Lady Catherine said? “I was told that Miss Elizabeth Bennet would, in all likelihood, be soon united to my nephew.”
Who had said this? Mr Darcy himself? No, if it had been Mr Darcy, she would not have needed to come to Longbourn to confirm it.
And Mr Bingley sent a messenger to Pemberley, meaning Mr Darcy had not been at Rosings.
He would not have confessed such a thing in a letter to his aunt, Elizabeth suspected, or likely at all, given what she had seen of their interactions.
Then who? Colonel Fitzwilliam? He was with his regiment and not travelling until Mr Bingley’s wedding.
Miss Georgiana Darcy? Would Mr Darcy have told his sister about his feelings, and if he did, would the young lady tell her secrets to one such as Lady Catherine?
She might be intimidated enough to tell anything she knew about her brother, but Mr Bingley said Mr Darcy was returning to Pemberley to be with his sister, so she was not at Rosings, either.
Mary did not know anything about the matter.
Could it have been a servant who saw her with Mr Darcy at Rosings all of those weeks ago?
And if so, why would that person have waited so long to tell? There was no sense in this.
Papa returned to the dining room. “Ah, Lizzy. The doctor has left to speak with the carpenter. Mr Henry will make a temporary coffin for transport, and Mr Bingley will accompany the body, as you know.”
“Papa, I wish to go.”
“Where?”
“To Rosings.”
“You did not know her well. No one would expect it of you.”
“I feel responsible.”
He paused. “You said you merely had a conversation.”
“We did, yet…yet she was with me at the end.” She repeated, “I feel responsible.”
“Her death was not your fault.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together. He had not heard the tone Elizabeth had used. She had been insolent. She had been obstinate. She had been a headstrong girl, and the shock had killed Lady Catherine. Elizabeth had no doubt of this.
“Please, Papa. In addition to doing what I deem correct, I can see to Mary, and I wish to ask her to return home for Jane’s wedding, if not forever.”
His mouth twisted this way and that, and then he said, “I cannot send you alone with Mr Bingley. It would not be proper.” As she was considering what options to suggest, he said, “I will accompany you. I would like to see Mary, and Longbourn can spare me for a week.”
She was not expecting this. “Will Mama—”
“I think it best that she and the other girls stay here.”
Elizabeth wondered if Jane would be sorry to be left behind, but there would not be a place for her to sleep comfortably at the Parsonage with Papa in the house.
A week away from Mr Bingley would not please her, but she had wedding plans to attend to, and she and Mama could distract themselves in this manner.
Mrs Hill quietly entered to ask her father where luncheon should be served, and they agreed upon the breakfast parlour.
“Come, Lizzy. We need sustenance to see us through this unusual day.”
Unusual indeed.