Chapter 14 #2
The lady slumped back into the chair, overcome by a severe hacking cough, her eyes watering as she pulled a handkerchief, already sodden, from her sleeve and put it to her nose.
“Ma’am, you are unwell,” cried Elizabeth, immediately realising that Lady Catherine’s face was coloured more than one would expect from temper alone.
She turned to her footman, James, who had accompanied her and Georgiana on their return from Lambton.
“James, ask Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Winthrop to attend me urgently in the study.” She said nothing more, for she had learnt from Lady Jersey that silence was as effective a weapon as speech in damping down the temper of another who was unlikely to listen to reason—particularly if the lady were unwell.
“I am highly displeased!” exclaimed Lady Catherine, her angry tone undiminished, yet again interrupted by a severe cough. She attempted to stand but had insufficient strength in her arms to assist herself from the chair.
There was a nervous shuffle at the door. Both Mrs. Reynolds and Winthrop entered, staring at Lady de Bourgh with trepidation.
“Mrs. Bennet, you wished to speak with me?” Mrs. Reynolds clasped her hands together, her knuckles white.
“Lady Catherine appears extremely fatigued, unwell. Please assist her to her room and have some tea—perhaps some broth—taken up to her.”
James, who had returned to the study, stepped forward, gently taking Lady Catherine’s arm. “If you please, ma’am, I will assist you.”
Lady Catherine, taken completely unawares by the turn of events, found she was unable to break free of his grip, though in truth, she did not have the energy to resist. Before she could respond, she was being led into the corridor.
“Winthrop, did Miss Anne, Lady Catherine’s daughter, accompany her?” Elizabeth was taken aback by the suddenness of Lady Catherine’s collapse, though perhaps it was only fatigue from the long journey from Kent.
“Indeed, Miss Anne is in the drawing room. I believe Miss Darcy is attending her,” replied Winthrop. “My apologies, Mrs. Bennet. I had not thought to lock the door to the study.”
“In future, only the senior staff, Miss Darcy, and I should have access. I dislike locked doors, but there appear to be too many inquisitive guests in this house. Now, I must introduce myself to Miss Anne.”
Elizabeth paused in the corridor, her breath still shallow from the encounter.
She pressed her palms together to steady herself, then smoothed her skirts with deliberate care before proceeding toward the drawing room.
The door stood ajar, and within she could hear the gentle murmur of Georgiana’s voice, a soothing contrast to the storm that had just passed.
Inside, Miss Anne de Bourgh sat rigidly on the edge of a settee, her slight frame swaddled in layers of pale muslin. She bore little resemblance to her mother: her features were delicately drawn, her complexion wan.
Georgiana, seated beside her, looked up as Elizabeth entered, relief softening her countenance. “Mrs. Elizabeth, may I present my cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh?”
Elizabeth offered a reassuring smile. “It is my pleasure, Miss de Bourgh. I hope your journey was not too taxing.”
Anne’s lips parted as if to reply, but she merely nodded, her gaze dropping to her hands.
Georgiana rose, drawing Elizabeth aside.
“Lady Catherine means to remain some weeks, I fear. She arrived unannounced and is greatly displeased with everything—from the weather to the tea service.” She glanced at Anne, her brow furrowed with concern.
“Anne is… not herself. She is overworn, I think.”
Elizabeth glanced at the slight, trembling figure and felt a surge of compassion. “We must make her feel welcome. Perhaps a walk in the gardens when she is rested? Away from Lady Catherine’s oversight.”
Elizabeth returned to Anne, her manner gentle. “Miss de Bourgh, if you wish, we could explore the conservatory later. The camellias are in bloom, and it is quite peaceful there.”
At that moment, the sound of Lady Catherine’s voice echoed faintly from the upper landing, protesting her removal. Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Georgiana.
“My apologies, but I was rather abrupt with Lady Catherine,” she said. “It was not my place to have her sent to her room. But you understand, Georgiana, that we cannot have her rifling through Mr. Darcy’s affairs.”
“Oh, she had gone to the study? Why, she said she merely wished to refresh herself,” Georgiana replied.
“My mother,” whispered Anne, “heard from cousin Richard that Darcy was away. She was annoyed that he had not written to her, for he always comes to Rosings at Easter, yet only Richard came.”
“Surely she could have written to him?” said Georgiana. “For he is not hiding away—just gone to Ireland to supervise one of our father’s investments.”
“Indeed, she could have written. But that is not her way,” Anne replied, a glint in her eyes.
“I believe she wishes to manage Pemberley in Darcy’s absence.
She does not believe that you, Georgiana, can look after the estate without it falling into ruin.
” She laughed softly. “We heard much of the exchange down the corridor, Mrs. Elizabeth. It would have been difficult not to hear my mother’s outrage all the way to Kent!
You are a friend of Georgiana?—indeed, possibly more than a friend?
” She gave Elizabeth a shrewd look, which belied her otherwise frail demeanour.
“I doubt very much a mere guest would dress down Lady de Bourgh when in full fury!”
Elizabeth could but suppress a smile at Miss Anne’s perceptiveness.
“You are quite correct, Miss de Bourgh. I am a guest of Miss Darcy, for we met in London at Lady Matlock’s.
Yet also I have oversight of certain matters pertaining to the estate.
Mr. Darcy entrusted me with more than the care of his sister’s leisure.
” She glanced at Georgiana, who gave a small, grateful nod.
Anne’s shrewd gaze softened, and she seemed to gather courage from Elizabeth’s candour. “I am glad of it. My mother is not accustomed to being crossed, nor to finding herself so skilfully managed. But I confess, I am feeling a little unwell. I should retire to my room.”
“Miss de Bourgh, your mother is also unwell, possibly a little fevered. Did you encounter any illness on your journey?”
“None on the journey, but before we left Hunsford, several children came down with the measles—though they recovered quickly enough. Mr. Collins spoke of it when he came to tea, just prior to our departure.”
Elizabeth felt a sudden chill. “Did Mr. Collins appear well when he visited?” she asked, with some trepidation.
Anne de Bourgh was silent for a few minutes as she thought back to the afternoon. “No, he was in very good spirits, but Mrs. Watkins from the village had a slight cough and rheumy eyes, but she said she had had only a poor night’s sleep, and she would feel better on the morrow.”
“Georgiana, had you the measles, as a child perhaps?” Elizabeth was now extremely worried. Measles was caused by an infectious agent in the blood of patients, transmitting it to healthy individuals through mucus spread by coughing.
“When I was six or seven. Oh, how William teased me because of the red blotches on my face. He called me his little red Derbyshire leprechaun.”
“A red rash! Oh dear, I saw such a rash on my mother’s neck as she was dressing this morning. She hid it under her fichu,” said Anne, looking between Georgiana and Elizabeth, who now held expressions of great alarm.
“Georgiana, we must quarantine the house!” cried Elizabeth. “Measles is highly infectious; it can cause death not only to children but adults as well, and can lead to inflammation of the lungs and the brain.”
* * *
“Mrs. Reynolds, Winthrop. We believe Lady Catherine has the measles, likely Miss Anne as well. She is fatigued, with a cough, though not as severe as her mother’s.
Georgiana has assisted her to her room.” Elizabeth wrung her hands.
“We must place Pemberley in quarantine. The gates are to be closed—entry to the estate and exit of any persons already here must cease forthwith. Mrs. Reynolds, please identify those staff who are certain they had the disease as children, for they are likely immune. They must run the house with no contact whatsoever with the other staff. Winthrop, please enquire at the stables whether Lady Catherine’s attendants have any symptoms—it would be best if they were quarantined also. ”
She turned once again to Mrs. Reynolds. “Anyone who has had contact with Lady Catherine or Miss Anne, unless they have had the measles before, must be isolated, kept away from everyone else. Mrs. Reynolds, how best shall we disperse the staff? We must keep contact with the disease to a minimum.”
It was agreed that the east wing, unused, would house the staff who had not been exposed to the disease before.
There was sufficient space in the stable loft for the coachmen and footmen who had accompanied Lady Catherine to be kept well separated from the other staff.
Mrs. Reynolds and Winthrop hurried away to organise the house.
Elizabeth fell into a chair, her mind working through a list of the tasks to be done.
Notes to the tenant farms to keep away from the manor.
An inventory of the stores in the house and outbuildings, since no supplies would be available from elsewhere.
There was so much to consider. She stood, straightened her skirts.
First, she must understand the disease, determine the best treatment for Lady Catherine and Miss Anne, and decide how long the estate should remain in quarantine.
She walked briskly to the library. She remembered the title—Domestic Medicine: Or, a Treatise on the Prevention and Cure of Diseases by Regimen and Simple Medicines, by William Buchan. Good, there was a chapter on measles—
WHEN the eruption suddenly falls in, and the patient is seized with a delirium, he is in the greatest danger.
If the measles turn too soon of a pale colour, it is an unfavourable symptom, as are also great weakness, vomiting, restlessness, and difficulty of swallowing.
Purple or black spots appearing among the measles are very unfavourable.
When a continual cough, with hoarseness, succeeds the disease, there is reason to suspect an approaching consumption of the lungs.
OUR business in this disease is to assist nature by proper cordials, in throwing out the morbific matter, if her efforts be too languid; but when they are too violent they must be restrained by evacuations, and cool diluting liquors, or, if that should disagree with the stomach, a little manna may occasionally be added to them.
Elizabeth took her notebook from her pocket. She carefully copied the regimen. Pray that Cook or the under-cook were not isolated, for she was uncertain who else could manage the kitchen with reduced staff, yet all of the household and the outdoors men were still required to be fed.
She wrote quickly, her mind racing as she noted: “Elder-flower tea, barley-water, clarified whey—avoid all small beer, no vinegar or sharp pickles. Light broths, stewed apples. Keep the chamber cool, the air fresh. No feather beds or heavy curtains.”
She underlined the last, recalling Georgiana saying that Lady Catherine had a penchant for velvet hangings and down coverlets—she would resist, but the sick must have air.
Her pen hesitated. What of the children in the cottages, the elderly labourers?
She must warn them, too. A second list began in the margin: “Send word to each cottager, especially those with young children—strictly no visitors to the manor, nor to Lambton, until further notice. Alert Mr. Taylor, the apothecary, of fever at Pemberley. Request leeches, tincture of laudanum, and rose water. Enquire about fresh lemons, if any may be had—”
She broke off. Lemons?—perhaps the hothouses still sheltered a few.
A determined knock at the library door startled her from her thoughts.
Mrs. Reynolds entered, her face drawn yet composed.
“We have begun the arrangements, ma’am. The east wing is airing now, and the kitchen girls are preparing broth for Lady Catherine and Miss Anne.
Mr. Winthrop is with the grooms—none appear ill as yet, thanks be. ”
Elizabeth set down her pen. “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. And the staff—are any in distress?”
“Two of the housemaids are in tears, fearing for their families. I have sent James with notes to the village.” Mrs. Reynolds hesitated, then added, “Should we write to Mr. Darcy? Or wait until—” she faltered, not wishing to speak the worst.
Elizabeth’s heart clenched. “We must write to him at once, and to Lady Jersey, for she must know the reason for the house’s closure. Let them understand no one may come or go. I shall draft the letters directly—have them taken to the gatehouse, to be collected by the post from Lambton.”
The housekeeper nodded. “Very good, ma’am. And if I may—Miss Darcy asks if you would sit with Miss Anne, when you are able. The poor girl is frightened.”
Elizabeth pressed Mrs. Reynolds’s hand in gratitude. “Tell Miss Darcy I shall come immediately. And Mrs. Reynolds—thank you. I know this is not what any of us expected.”
“Nor you, ma’am,” replied Mrs. Reynolds. Indeed, Mrs. Bennet, we are blessed to have you here.
* * *