Chapter 58 Aftermath
Darcy and Richard had not seen the bees, but as they pulled their aunt from the rosebush, they could immediately tell that something was wrong. Her face was beginning to swell; she had a rasping cough and her breathing sounded labored.
"Clear the path," Richard said to Darcy as he lifted Lady Catherine into his arms.
"We need the apothecary!" Darcy said loudly as he rushed ahead of Richard to clear a path through the revelers into the house, although really there was little need for it. Seeing them coming, the guests stepped aside without trouble.
"Put her in my room," Peter directed his son as they nearly flew by him to get inside.
The spell of silence now broken, most of the company began to question what exactly had just happened, while the rest called for Mr. Jones, the apothecary, who was among those in attendance that night.
As they headed to the stairs, the two men heard Mrs. Bennet suggesting that her guests go ahead and begin the meal that had been prepared for them.
Her announcements could wait until things settled down.
Mary stood with Bingley near the base of the stairs. She took a quick look at Lady Catherine's face and saw the dark red spots at the centers of the two largest swellings.
"Bee stings," she said. "I will get my medicine in case Mr. Jones needs it."
She followed closely behind Richard as he ran up the stairs. Mr. Jones arrived, threading his way through the people gathering nearby and quickly followed.
Reaching the room that had been his and was now occupied by his uncle, Darcy pushed open the door as he entered and held it out of Richard's way. Richard followed right behind him and deposited their aunt gently upon the bed. Her breathing had stopped but neither man realized that yet.
"Let me see to her," said Mr. Jones, coming in behind them.
Darcy and Richard both stepped back to give the apothecary room. They watched as the man checked for her pulse with a worried expression and then put his ear to her chest to listen for breathing or a heartbeat. He looked around him and saw a small shaving mirror on a nearby bureau.
"Please bring me that mirror," he asked.
Being closest, Darcy grabbed the mirror and brought it to Mr. Jones. He understood the reason for the request and suspected what the apothecary would find. Lady Catherine lay limp and motionless on the bed. Her features had gone slack, even more so than one would see in sleep or unconsciousness.
With all the anger, hatred and haughtiness drained from her expression, and even discounting for the swelling, it was like looking at someone else entirely. It surprised him that, for someone who had loomed so large in the lives of so many, she now appeared small and fragile.
As Darcy expected, Mr. Jones held the surface of the mirror close to Lady Catherine's lips and waited. The apothecary then lifted the mirror and was examining it minutely for any hint of mist when Mary rushed in carrying a small bottle made of dark-tinted glass.
"I have the tincture you made for me in case I was stung again." She tried to offer him the bottle, but Mr. Jones shook his head.
"It will do no good, Miss Mary," he said gently. "She is gone."
The news surprised and shocked Mary. She physically reeled back at his words, and Darcy put a hand on her shoulder to steady her.
"Would it be wicked to say I am glad?" Anne asked from just outside the door.
They all turned to look at her. She shook her head slightly and continued.
"Mother came here intending harm. That is who she was.
She has spent a lifetime manipulating, controlling and hurting others.
Granted, that is not how things always turned out and on some occasions her manipulations resulted in good.
Still, all the good that has come out of her evil does not absolve her from her crimes of intention. "
"What you say is true," Richard agreed. "I tried to offer her the love and respect due to my father's sister, and I do appreciate the military commissions she paid for no matter what her intent was in doing so.
All the same, I spent so much time and energy countering her harmful schemes, I cannot claim to be very upset by her death.
Right now, I feel only pity, not sorrow. "
Peter Fitzwilliam had joined Anne at the door as Richard spoke. His son's words and a look at the figure on the bed told him all he needed to know.
"I cannot fault you, son," he said. "She was my sister, but all I can feel is pity as well, and that is primarily pity that she wasted her life scheming against others instead of loving and being loved.
The bigger question is what we should do now.
There is a houseful of guests just sitting down to dinner. "
"And a garden full as well," Richard added. His father shook his head and Richard subsided, looking slightly ashamed of the interruption.
"The point is," Peter continued, "if we tell them now, many will feel they should leave in order to show respect for the supposedly grieving family. The party will be ruined, the food and preparations will be wasted, while many may go home with nothing for dinner."
The others in the room all looked at Mr. Jones as the expert on how the locals would behave. He considered for a moment before he spoke, looking at the woman on the bed.
"I think," he began seriously, "that people in the neighborhood would want to know the truth before they leave, but not until after they have had their dinner, for exactly the reasons Viscount Rand has mentioned.
Mrs. Bennet's meals are too good to be missed, especially if you, who are the deceased woman's closest family, do not deem it an insult for the party to continue downstairs. "
"I think I should deem it an insult for the party to break up on my mother's behalf," Anne muttered.
Peter looked sadly at his sister. "And letting that happen would give her continued power to disrupt our lives, at least for tonight.
I think you are both correct. Announcing her death later will also present the best opportunity to release the secret regarding the other recent deaths in our family. "
"Other deaths, Viscount Rand?" Mr. Jones asked.
"Yes, deaths that mean you address the wrong man with that title. My father and eldest son recently died in an accident. I had been waiting to publicly announce it until I could tell my sister in person. I just missed her when I visited with that intent yesterday and never had the chance today."
"So, you are now the Earl of Matlock?" Mr. Jones said slowly, making a question of the statement.
"I am. The title of Viscount Rand now belongs to my son, Richard."
"I congratulate you both, along with my sympathies for your losses."
"Thank you. It is always an ambiguous moment. One cannot gain the family title without losing a family member. All the same, I had wanted to announce it when it happened but felt my sister deserved to learn the news directly from me, not from gossip."
Mr. Jones nodded. "That is very understandable, my lord.
Well, if you announce that news this evening, it may distract from any morbid feeling over your sister's sudden death.
What you say is true about the ambiguity, but there is always something of a spirit of romance in the eyes of the gossips when someone they know inherits a title.
You and the new Viscount are well-liked here and the new Lady Rand is the daughter of one of our most popular citizens.
That will brighten the spirits of those here greatly. "
"And how it would have annoyed Aunt Catherine to know they will be more interested in Charlotte's good fortune than in her, even though she would also declare their interest as below her disdain." Richard smiled fondly at the figure in the bed as he spoke.
"Richard!" said his father with equally fond exasperation. "I think you have seen too much death in your career to take even this loss seriously."
Richard shrugged and his father continued, "Mr. Jones, I hate having you miss the dinner, but if you go down, we may as well tell all now.
I propose you, Anne and I, at least, stay upstairs.
Despite his current jocularity, I think Richard can be trusted, along with Will, to rejoin the company and arrange to have a meal sent up for us. "
"And send Martin to come and comfort me, please?" Anne asked with a slight smile, "although I do think we should dine in my room, not here. No one will be the wiser."
Peter nodded in agreement with her plan. He turned to Mary. "How are you doing, Mary? Since you are one of those whose betrothal is being celebrated, I think you should go down as well, but we will be guided by your preference."
"I am upset, but that will be attributed to concern. While I will not lie to anyone, I can avoid the subject until you make the announcement."
"Good, that is all that is needed. We will leave my sister here to lie in state and solitude while we adjourn to Anne and Martin's room for our meal. Richard, make sure you speak only to Mrs. Hill about bringing up the food," Peter looked warningly at his son, who responded with a cheeky grin.
"Of course, Father. I have performed covert campaigns before, you know. Mrs. Hill is our best operative in the household."
Peter waved his son towards the door. "Off with you boys," he said with a slight chuckle. "Take Mary down and go play your parts. Thankfully, all the deceptions will soon be unnecessary."
"I will talk to Martin," Darcy volunteered as Richard gestured for Mary to precede them.
They found a small crowd waiting at the bottom of the stairs with Bingley at the forefront. He came halfway up the steps to meet Mary and offer her the support of his arm for the remainder of the descent.
As Darcy joined Lizzy and Martin, who were also among those waiting, he heard Mary reply to an inquiry, "She was clearly stung by bees, so I brought Mr. Jones the tincture he prepared in case I was ever stung again.
Now, please, I would prefer not to say anything more.
" Bingley led her away before the questioner could press for additional information.
One of the guests asked Darcy how matters stood with Lady Catherine.
He offered Lizzy his arm as he replied, "Mr. Jones is doing everything he can for her.
Thank you for asking." With a polite nod, he quickly turned away, indicating to Lizzy and Martin that they should step away from the main group of people with him.
As soon as he felt it was safe, he whispered to Martin, "Anne would like you to go up and join her in your room. She will explain everything."
Martin thanked Darcy quietly and quickly headed for the servant's stair, the better to avoid notice. Watching him go, Darcy wished he had thought to suggest that. Fortunately, Martin appeared to realize some secrecy was needed.
"What has happened?" Lizzy asked, distracting him from his thoughts.
"Aunt Catherine has died of a reaction from the bee stings," Darcy replied very quietly. "We do not wish to announce it until after the guests have enjoyed their meal so they do not feel they must leave before then."
"I like that she is not even allowed to disrupt dinner," Lizzy whispered back, reminding him of Anne's comments. "Are you well?"
"It is a surprise," Darcy told her. "I hardly know how I feel about it. There is too much else to think about now."
"True," she said in a more normal tone. "Mama wants us to join the celebration. After all, our betrothal is one of the reasons for this gathering. Shall we return to the garden and the guests still out there?"
"Yes, I think that would be best," he said. "I have little appetite, but I will be better satisfied in the open air."
"Let us first quietly notify my father," Lizzy suggested, dropping her voice again.
"That would be wise," Darcy agreed. They headed off to find Mr. Bennet.