Chapter 3 #2
Mr. Jones arrived before long and assured Elizabeth that Jane’s fever was not at a dangerous level; he also agreed that her lungs were clear.
He made up two draughts and left firm instructions as to the timing and amount of doses, and he urged the usual: rest, staying warm, eating hot chicken broth, and drinking hot tea or possets.
Before he left, he promised to return in the morning to check on her.
Elizabeth ordered trays for their dinner, and she read Ennui to Jane whenever her sister was not succumbing to ennui, herself, and sleeping.
During her sister’s naps, she read about Humboldt’s travels to Cuba and Colombia.
She was delighted when Georgiana came to check on them after her dinner downstairs.
The girl seemed a bit upset, and when Elizabeth gently asked if anything was the matter, Georgiana admitted that Miss Bingley seemed determined to make her play the pianoforte to the group, once the gentlemen returned from their port and cigars.
“I do not—I have never…performed for acquaintances,” she murmured.
“Just tell her no as politely as possible,” Elizabeth suggested. “If Miss Bingley insists, I am certain that your brother, or maybe even her brother, will step forward in your defence. And if they are not noticing your distress, perhaps you can tell them?”
Georgiana’s eyes were huge, and she shook her head as if Elizabeth was suggesting the impossible.
“Well, then, could you simply say that you are exhausted, and go to your rooms?”
“I did that last night.” Georgiana was back to whispering again. She continued, “I think everyone understood, because my companion and I had just arrived that day, and carriage rides are tiring, but I cannot use that excuse tonight.”
Elizabeth looked into Georgiana’s despondent eyes, and a sudden memory occurred to her. She remembered hearing from Miss Bingley that Mr. Darcy had become master of his estate five years ago, when his father died, and that his mother had died years before that.
Actually, Miss Bingley had been in truly objectionable form that day, going on and on about the fact that Mr. Darcy was not only the most handsome man in all of the United Kingdom, but he was also one of the richest young landowners.
The worst part was when she had crowed that he had no living parents to try to please.
Of course, that meant that Georgiana, too, was an orphan. And if her mother died years before her father died, five years ago, she might have had very little mothering in her life.
Elizabeth’s heart reached out to Georgiana. “Would you like me to go down with you?”
Georgiana looked as if she had just received a gift of gold and gemstones. “Oh, that would be so wonderful!” she said. She looked at Jane and said, “That is, if you can spare your sister, Miss Bennet?”
Jane easily agreed to the plan, sipped her willow bark tea, and assured Elizabeth that she wanted to sleep soon, anyway.
Elizabeth changed her dress and tidied her hair while Georgiana rang for a maid to watch over Jane. The two of them went downstairs and entered the drawing room. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst smiled brightly at Georgiana, but when they saw Elizabeth, their smiles grew strained.
“Come in, dear Georgiana!” Miss Bingley said. “And Miss Eliza. Tell me, how is our patient doing?”
Elizabeth hated the name Eliza, although she did allow her best friend, Charlotte Lucas, to call her that. Given the fact that she had not given Miss Bingley permission, it rankled a bit that she had shortened her name at all.
Of course, Elizabeth gave no hint of her irritation while giving a report on Jane’s health. She sat near Georgiana and graciously accepted a cup of tea. Just a minute later, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Hurst entered the room.
“Miss Elizabeth!” Mr. Bingley said with his usual happy smile, “I am so glad to see you downstairs. I hope that means that your sister is doing well.”
She reported what Mr. Jones had said and that Jane was ready to sleep after she finished her fever-reducing tea. Mr. Bingley seemed encouraged and reminded her to let him know if he or his sisters could do anything more to bring relief.
Miss Bingley stood and said, “Dear Georgiana, it is time to exhibit your mastery, your very decided talent, on our instrument. I have been so looking forward to your performance.”
Georgiana looked at Elizabeth, and she appeared quite panicky.
Elizabeth shot a look at Mr. Darcy, hoping he saw his sister’s face, but he was looking down at nothing at all that she could see.
Then she glanced at Mr. Bingley—surely he, with all his friendly concern, would notice his guest’s discomfort.
But he was just smiling at the room in general, saying things about how jolly it is to have accomplished ladies playing music in one’s own home.
Poor Georgiana looked the opposite of jolly, and Elizabeth stood up, “Miss Darcy, would you mind if I went first?”
It was terribly rude, and everyone stared at Elizabeth, but Georgiana looked as if she was her saviour, so Elizabeth decided she could stand the others’ probable disapproval. “Oh, yes, Elizabeth!” Georgiana said in quite fervent tones. “I mean, please do play for us. I do not mind at all!”
Elizabeth glanced at the sheet music on the piano, and, as she suspected, it was much more complex and difficult than anything she had ever attempted.
She chose to play something she knew by heart, instead.
She felt that she acquitted herself well, and the accolades she received were exactly what she expected: enthusiastic praise from Mr. Bingley, a polite compliment from Mr. Darcy, snores from Mr. Hurst, nothing at all from Mr. Bingley’s supercilious sisters, and vehement applause from Georgiana.
Elizabeth rose from the piano bench, certain that her rudeness had only delayed the misery Georgiana expected, and indeed, Miss Bingley grabbed the young girl’s elbow and walked her over to the pianoforte rather forcefully.
Mr. Darcy’s eyes widened, but instead of doing something himself, he looked straight at Elizabeth.
His eyes seemed to be attempting to express something, but Elizabeth had no idea what he was trying to say, or ask.
With two Darcys looking at her as if she should act, as if she could help, Elizabeth almost laughed. Why was Mr. Darcy so incapable of being rude to Miss Bingley, in defence of his sister, when he had seemed, not so long ago, perfectly capable of being rude to her for no reason at all?