7. Chapter Seven
The next morning the Bennet family gathered around the breakfast table, a time-honored tradition whereupon they discussed the previous night’s entertainment and upcoming events. Because Hertfordshire’s weather was not conducive to easy travel during November, their social calendar was quite bereft.
“Mamma, before I forget to tell you,” Lydia said quite unexpectedly. “My aunt says the officers of the ____shire militia do not go as often to Miss Watson’s as when they first arrived. For some reason, they are often standing about outside Clarke’s library.”
“When did you see my sister, Lydia?”
“Papa went to the bookseller to pick up an order. Because he likes to browse the shelves for longer than we care to wait, he dropped me and Kitty off at Aunt Philips. She fed us the most delicious scones.”
“Your great aunt Tilly’s recipe, I dare say. ‘Tis the best in the whole of Hertfordshire.” Mamma smiled in remembrance of her aunt, then turned her focus on Lydia. “Do you remember us discussing the militia after Lady Lucas visited?”
Lydia nodded and said, “I do.”
“While officers look very dashing in their uniform, you must remember most of them are second or third sons and their income is a pittance. When you finally have your Come Out, I do not mind if you dance with them, but you must not set your heart on marrying one of them. You are not suited to follow the drum, my dear. You like your comforts too much for that.”
Mamma was prevented from speaking further by the entrance of the footman with a note from Netherfield. He presented it to Mary, who flipped it open and began to read.
“Is it from Miss Bingley?” Mamma called out with barely contained excitement.
“It is,” replied Mary, and then read the note aloud.
My dear Friend,
If you are not so compassionate as to dine today with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day’s tête-à-tête between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this. The gentlemen are set to dine with the officers. Yours ever,
Caroline Bingley
No one said anything while Mary folded the note and set it beside her plate. Lips pursed and brow furrowed, Mamma looked down the table at her husband and then took a deep breath.
“I must admit, I am surprised she invited only you. Whatever could she mean by ignoring your older sisters?”
“I cannot answer for Miss Bingley.”
“I am of a mind to have you decline her invitation.” At Mary’s small gasp, Mamma reached over and squeezed her hand. “I will not ask you to meet her rudeness with your own. We must set precedence and behave as true ladies.”
Mamma addressed the footman, who waited by the door.
“Please tell Miss Bingley’s servant we shall have a reply for him to take back to Netherfield. Make sure he has some tea while he waits.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said with a slight bow before exiting the dining room.
“Mary, my dear,” Mamma said. “I shall answer Miss Bingley and tell her to expect all of us this afternoon.”
“All of us?”
“Yes, indeed. Even Kitty and Lydia.”
“I thought you said we would not reciprocate with rudeness,” Elizabeth reminded her mother, knowing the inherent danger of poking a mamma bear who was now protecting her own.
“My daughters will not be slighted by a woman who thinks she is above a landed gentleman’s daughter, much less the daughters of an earl.”
Over the past few weeks, morsels of gossip regarding what Miss Bingley thought she knew about Jane and Elizabeth’s dearly departed father had reached the ears of Mrs. Bennet.
“Miss Bingley does not know the truth of our situation.”
“Regardless of her ignorance, she has behaved very poorly.”
“Mamma, may I suggest an alternative?”
“And what might that be, Jane?”
“I propose that Mary, Elizabeth, and I attend the ladies of Netherfield Park. We three are out in society and it is custom for us to visit together. If she dares to raise her eyebrows at our proper conduct, then we will know she is not someone we wish to further an acquaintance with.”
And so it was that three ladies descended upon a surprised Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.
“Iunderstand you have family here in Meryton.”
“We do,” Mary replied. “Our mother’s sister is married to Mr. Phillips.”
“Is this the aunt and uncle who have a little shop in Meryton?” Miss Bingley asked before raising her fingers to hide a smile.
“My uncle does not own a shop. He is the attorney who negotiated the lease your brother signed to rent Netherfield Park.”
Miss Bingley pursed her lips, seemingly uncomfortable at being reminded they did not own the estate where she rested her head at night but rented it from another. Regardless of this annoyance, she continued with her line of questioning, solidifying Elizabeth’s belief she had a nefarious purpose for the unexpected invitation to tea.
“Are the rest of his family involved with other such industrious enterprises?”
“His eldest brother inherited the family estate in Surrey.”
“Our dear Uncle Phillips is a second son,” Elizabeth interjected, not wanting Mary to reveal their beloved uncle’s father was a baron. “He chose to follow the law instead of taking orders, which brought him to our corner of Hertfordshire.”
“A choice Aunt Phillips is very glad of,” Jane added.
“Your other uncle,” Caroline continued as though neither Elizabeth nor Jane had spoken. “He is in trade, yes?”
Mary nodded in the affirmative, adding, “Our uncle is very successful. He and his wife live in London.”
She took a small bit of her cake.
“In Cheapside, I heard.”
“Near Cheapside, on Gracechurch Street.”
“I imagine he lives there to keep a watchful eye on his property,” Miss Bingley tittered and slid a glance toward Mrs. Hurst.
Elizabeth’s anger began to simmer. What was supposed to be a pleasant tea had turned into an inquisition where the perpetrator believed she had all the answers and only wished to humiliate her guests.
“Speaking of property,” Elizabeth began with false sweetness. “Remind me again, Miss Bingley, in which county we can find your father’s estate?”
She would have gone further but Jane laid a warning hand on her forearm just as an odd sound came from Mary. Both turned their attention toward her.
“Jane,” she said in a small voice. “I do not feel well.”
Mary then doubled over and struck her head hard enough on the floor to render her unconscious. Both Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst emitted tiny screams.
“Miss Bingley, is there any lobster in these cakes?” Jane demanded as she hurried to Mary’s side, gently lifting her sister’s head to rest on her lap.
“How would I know?”
“Please find out if there was.”
Miss Bingley continued to gape and cast panicked glances toward her eldest sister. Mrs. Hurst seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation and hurried to the bell pull. Only when a footman stepped into the room did Miss Bingley snap out of her stupor.
“You there,” she demanded and pointed at the footman. “Have Mrs. Nickers attend us and send a maid to ask the cook what was in the cakes she sent up for our tea.”
The footman looked at Mary lying on Jane’s lap before rushing from the room. Elizabeth heard Mrs. Hurst murmur to her sister, “Her name is Mrs. Nicholls.”
“Oh, who cares? She is just a housekeeper.”
At that moment, the butler entered the room.
“What may I do to help, Ma’am,” he queried, addressing Jane, not Miss Bingley.
“Send Jeremy for Mr. Jones, he is the fastest rider of all the footmen. Tell him Miss Bennet is having one of her reactions and we need him post haste.” The butler turned to do her bidding, stopping when Jane called out again. “Cardston, after that, please find Mrs. Nicholls and tell her I need water for drinking as well as to wipe Mary’s face, it will help cool and relax her.”
Cardston withdrew to do her bidding, completely ignoring the gaping mouth of his temporary mistress.
“Who do you think you are, to order my servants about as if they are your own?” Miss Bingley demanded. “It is not as though your sister is dying.”
Jane’s eyes flashed with anger upon hearing such a callous comment. Elizabeth was not at all surprised by this reaction. She and Jane could, and did, withstand the barbs and insults of ignorant people, but woe betide the person who attacked their family. Fortunately, for Miss Bingley, Mary stirred and her eyes fluttered.
“Relax, dearest,” Jane soothed, and softly stroked her sister’s cheek. “You hit your head on the floor.”
“Jane…”
Whatever it was that Mary wished to say would never be known because she promptly rolled to her side and vomited onto the rug. The outraged gasps of Miss Bingley would sustain Elizabeth for days, but only after her sister recovered. Any further outbursts were stymied by the arrival of Mrs. Nicholls, who bustled into the room with a couple of maids, bringing water and clean rags.
“Thank you, Mrs. Nicholls,” Jane said, overriding any comment Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst may have made. “Prepare the green guest room for Mary and have Cardston direct Mr. Jones there when he arrives.”
“Right away, La?, Miss Hamilton.”
“Who are you to give orders to my servants, Miss Hamilton?”
“I have neither the time nor the inclination to answer your questions, Miss Bingley. My sister’s recovery is my only priority.”
Although she wished to lend comment, Elizabeth stayed quiet. This was Jane’s fight, not hers. Two hours later, an exhausted Mary lay sleeping in one of the guest rooms after a thorough examination by Mr. Jones. Fortunately, she had only taken a bite of one small cake.
“Will she be able to come home tomorrow?” Jane asked, her attention riveted to the still form lying in the bed.
“Your sister has suffered one of her Idiosyncrasy’s. It is as I told you when she had her last spasmodic symptom, her body reacts differently to some foods. The last time it was lobster. Do we know what she ingested today?”
“Miss Bingley has learned some of the cakes had crab in them,” Elizabeth offered in reply.
“Ahh…this is good to know. It seems Miss Bennet must avoid ingesting any type of fish.” Mr. Jones paused, as if in deep thought. “Has she ever reacted to fish caught from a lake or stream?”
“Not that I am aware of,” Jane said. “We have trout regularly during the summer months. Our Uncle Gardiner is an avid angler and loves to cast a line in our stream, allowing us to enjoy the spoils of his labor.”
“Fascinating,” Mr. Jones murmured. “It seems Miss Bennet only reacts to oceanic species of shellfish. I will write one of my colleagues in Town and see if he has any further insight into these types of maladies.”
“Do you anticipate that Mary can come home tomorrow?” Jane asked.
“As far as her reaction to food, she is fine. However, she struck her head quite hard, which is the reason she became violently ill. She must rest quietly, and it is imperative she is awakened every four hours.”
“I shall stay with her,” Elizabeth offered.
“Are you certain?” Jane asked.
“After your little dust-up with Miss Bingley, I believe a strategic retreat is called for.”
Once Mary had finally drifted into a quiet rest, they made their way back to the elegant drawing room. Jane wished to properly farewell her hosts, and Elizabeth needed to confer with Miss Bingley about the recommendations made for Mary’s care and comfort. The doors to the drawing room remained partially open and upon their approach, the strident tones of Miss Bingley carried into the hall.
“What did Miss Hamilton mean? Ordering our servants around like this was her estate. She and her orphaned sister were not even invited! I declare those women from Longbourn are the main reason I wish to quit this horrible place.”
Quick footsteps could be heard along with a low murmur from Mrs. Hurst.
“I do not care, Louisa. They are below us, practically dirt farmers with two impoverished step-daughters and their estate entailed away. We must get Charles away from Miss Hamilton. She will drag him down into the mud with her and ruin my chances of making a successful marriage.”
Elizabeth not only felt Jane stiffen but saw her draw back her shoulders.
“Do nothing you will regret later,” she cautioned her normally placid sister. “Words may pierce our pride and sting our memories but they cannot change who we are and the life we will lead once Trenton returns.”
“While our lives will alter when our brother comes home in a few short weeks, I am tired of the snide remarks and underhanded comments that perpetually spring forth from Mr. Bingley’s sister.” Jane turned cerulean blue eyes toward her sister and smiled wide enough to crinkle their corners. “I believe it is time for those two ladies to be schooled in proper etiquette.”
“As you know, there is no love lost between Miss Bingley and me, and in most circumstances, I would wholeheartedly agree, but – think on this – if you reveal our rank, are you prepared for that woman and her sister to grovel and toady for your attention?”
“Now that I am aware of their true sentiments, I have no desire to acknowledge them in any form.” Jane paused and her expression turned thoughtful. “Unless I continue to accept Mr. Bingley’s attentions.”
“Is his affection worth the twin tentacles of doom waiting for us in the next room?”
Jane took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“I confess I am uncertain. I suppose we shall find out over the next few weeks.”