Chapter Seventeen
“My dear Lizzy,” Thomas Bennet’s voice was quite broken as he sat down by her bedside, taking her hand in his and holding tightly to her hand. “I should never have let you come here. Never have permitted you out from under my roof.”
She gave him a weak smile that yet had some of her usual impishness in it. “Oh, Papa, you cannot wrap up all up in swaddling blankets for ever, you know. I should have made your life a misery if you had refused me permission to come.”
He chuckled ruefully at that. “Do I not know it; Lydia even now is doing exactly that because I told her that she should not go to Brighton!”
“Lydia in Brighton; now there is a nightmare thought indeed!” Elizabeth smiled, though it faded at her father’s wry expression. “Why on earth should she go to Brighton, Papa?”
“Colonel Forster’s wife has befriended her, and wishes Lydia to be her companion there for the summer. All Lydia can talk about is ‘a whole camp full of soldiers’!” he mimicked his youngest daughter’s excitable tones.
“Oh Papa, no,” Elizabeth said in horror. “You cannot possibly consider it! I know well how badly she will behave if she does not get her way, but…”
“Never fear, Lizzy, I have learned my lesson,” Mr. Bennet shook his head. “If you can suffer such a dreadful mishap when staying in a quiet country hamlet in the home of a clergyman relative, I shudder to think what might befall Lydia in Brighton!”
Jane, sitting quietly on Elizabeth’s other side, placed her hand over her mouth, and then had to turn away, feigning a cough while she regained control over her emotions. Forcing herself to paste on a smile, she turned back to speak.
“I too am very glad that you will not permit Lydia to go to Brighton, Papa,” Jane said softly.
“Even if she were of an age to be wed, I should fear for any personable young woman among so many men. Fathers were urged to keep their daughters closely watched when the regiment came to Meryton, as you no doubt recall.”
“And that was but one regiment,” Mr. Bennet agreed, smiling at Jane. “Wise words, dear Jane, and ones I shall not forget, believe me! Why, when I have you all home safe again, I shall not permit any of you out of my sight for a twelvemonth at least!”
That made both Jane and Lizzy laugh. “Oh Papa,” Lizzy squeezed on his hand gently. “You should tire of our chattering and retreat to your library before twelve days had passed, never mind twelve months!”
Mr. Bennet squeezed back. “It does my heart good to hear you sound so pert, Lizzy,” he said a little huskily, “and to hear such sweet and wise words from you, Jane.”
Smiling, Jane stood and came around the bed to kiss his cheek.
“It does our hearts good to see you again, Papa,” she told him lovingly.
“Now, I shall go and fetch us all some tea, and you must tell us what has been happening in Meryton since we left. You are all such poor correspondents, save Mama…”
“And all she writes of is her nerves!” Elizabeth said with a giggle.
Genteelly suppressing her own chuckles, Jane left her father and Elizabeth and headed down the stairs. Passing the open parlour door, she glanced in, and stopped, startled, as she saw Charlotte sitting on the lounge, wiping at her eyes with her apron.
“Charlotte!” Jane gasped, hurrying to her friend and embracing her. “Oh, my dear, what ever is the matter?”
Charlotte lifted teary eyes to Jane’s face. “Oh Jane, it is too dreadful! In my own home? How can we ever feel safe again?”
She burst into distraught sobs, leaning on Jane’s shoulder, and Jane could only smooth her hair and wonder what on earth had happened in the last half hour to bring Charlotte — cool, calm Charlotte! — to such a pass.
Charlotte stood undecided in the parlour for a few minutes after Mr. Gardiner departed and Jane led Mr. Bennet upstairs.
Finally she squared her shoulders and made her decision; life must go on, after all, and everyone would need to eat.
Going out to the kitchen, she issued instructions to the cook before collecting a few things in her basket and leaving the parsonage by the kitchen door.
It had taken Charlotte only a few days after arriving at Hunsford as Mrs. Collins to learn the name of every person in the village, and mere weeks before she knew all their ailments and troubles.
Seeing it as her bounden duty to help those less fortunate than herself, Charlotte soon endeared herself to the entire neighbourhood with her firm but kind manner and her sensible ways.
“That Mrs. Collins is a much greater lady than Lady Catherine, and no mistake,” was uttered in many a household around Rosings, although never when anyone who might tattle such treason to Lady Catherine’s ears might overhear.
Hence, when she paid a call to her neighbour Mrs. Farley, carrying a basket of freshly-grown vegetables from the Parsonage garden, and spent twenty minutes rocking one of the colicky Farley baby twins to sleep, Mrs. Farley was more than forthcoming with information.
“Yesterday, ma’am? Why yes, I did hear some strange noises, yesterday morning, it were.
I’d just got young Jimmy there off to sleep and taken a step outside rocking Alicia when I thought I heard shouts from the direction of the Parsonage, and someone runnin’ down the lane.
But I was in the garden, not the house, so I couldn’t see them, whoever it was.
” She shook her head in sympathy. “Dr. Trent’s housekeeper told me Miss Elizabeth took a fall, what a terrible thing.
My best wishes for your friend’s recovery, Mrs. Collins, I shall pray for her in church tomorrow! ”
Charlotte managed a weak smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Farley. There, I think Alicia is asleep now,” she settled the baby girl into the crib beside her brother. “And I had best be getting back. Lizzy’s family are with her, but I want to be sure to see to their comfort.”
“Of course, Mrs. Collins, and thank you for dropping by.”
Taking a deep breath as she left the Farley cottage, Charlotte turned back towards the Parsonage; but she was not bound for her own home just yet. Instead she pushed open the next little gate along the lane and made her way up the path towards Dr. Trent’s modest little house.
The doctor’s garden was prettier than hers, she thought; while she had to argue with Mr. Collins for any flowers at all (other than roses, which were Approved by Lady Catherine), and they were kept strictly regimented in a small corner, the doctor’s garden was a riot of colour.
Yet even with fewer vegetables, the garden was no less useful; all of the plants she recognised as having use for medicinal purposes.
She paused to inhale by a particularly fragrant lavender bush, and was surprised by the doctor himself coming up the path.
“Mrs. Collins! How do you do? Is it Miss Elizabeth?”
“No, no!” She smiled at his concerned expression. “Indeed, she does so much better, Doctor! Her father and uncle have both arrived and she is in safe hands in their care and that of Miss Bennet.”
Dr. Trent’s expression lightened. “And how do you do, with an unexpected houseful of guests, Mrs. Collins? You must take care of yourself too, you know!”
Charlotte blushed a little. “Oh, I am well, Dr. Trent. Very well, pray do not be concerned on my behalf.”
“Then what may I do for you?” he gave her a puzzled frown, and offered his arm to escort her to the door. “Not that it is not always a pleasure to be in your company, of course!”
That made her laugh little, but she sobered quickly. “I was wondering, Dr. Trent, if I might have a word with your housekeeper.” She kept her voice very quiet as they entered the house. “I am trying to retrace Lizzy’s steps, as of yesterday morning.”
“Ah,” Trent gave her an understanding look. “I see. Well - perhaps we might go to the kitchen and trouble her for a cup of tea, if you can take the time? I will reassure her that she will be quite right to answer your questions.”