Chapter 47 Two Weeks #3
“One of you may stay if she wishes it. Let her rest, and I shall return in the morning.”
Mrs. Bennet allowed Jane to remain with her.
Elizabeth went upstairs with her sister and stopped outside their mother's bedchamber while Jane entered. The curtains had been drawn, leaving the room in shadow. Mrs. Bennet lay beneath the covers with one arm across her forehead.
“Jane?” she murmured.
“I am here, Mamma. You need only rest.”
Elizabeth quietly closed the door.
She went downstairs and found Mr. Bennet in his study. Before she could ask, he told her, “Mr. Jones does not believe your mother is in danger. Let us hope a night's rest restores her.”
Elizabeth wished she could take comfort from his words, but she remembered too well what had happened before, when Lydia had run away with Wickham.
Was it all beginning again?
They had crossed into the past hoping to change what had happened, but could the course of events truly be altered?
The next morning Mrs. Bennet's headache had not improved, and she asked for her sister.
Mrs. Phillips arrived before Mr. Jones.
She hurried into Longbourn demanding to know why no one had sent for her the night before, but the moment Hill told her how ill her sister remained, her complaints ceased.
“I shall go up to Frances. Take these, Hill. I shall not need them again today.”
Mrs. Phillips thrust her bonnet and gloves into Hill's hands and hurried upstairs.
Elizabeth found her a short while later sitting beside the bed. Mrs. Phillips held one of her sister’s hands between both of hers.
“You gave us a dreadful fright, Frances. You must stop this nonsense and get well. I have no one else who will listen properly when I tell her what is happening in Meryton.”
Mrs. Bennet made a faint sound but did not open her eyes.
Mrs. Phillips adjusted the coverlet. “There now. You sleep. I am not going anywhere.”
She glanced at Elizabeth. “She looks very poorly. Mr. Jones is coming again this morning, I hope.”
“He is.”
“And so, he should. I shall stay until he has seen her.”
She was still there when Mr. Jones arrived.
By afternoon Mrs. Bennet seemed no better, but no worse. She slept for much of the day, waking only briefly to complain of the pain in her head. Mrs. Phillips remained beside her, leaving only when Jane persuaded her to eat something.
Lydia was not permitted downstairs. She sent repeated messages through Alice asking after her mother, and by evening her anger over her confinement had given way to fear.
Elizabeth was crossing the upstairs passage when Lydia called to her through the nursery door.
“Lizzy, is Mamma very ill? Alice will only tell me that Mr. Jones has been here again.”
“He says she must be kept quiet. She has slept for much of the day.”
“Please ask Papa to let me see her. I would not disturb her, Lizzy. I only want to tell her I am sorry.”
Elizabeth rested her hand upon the door. “Not tonight. If Mamma is better tomorrow, we shall ask Papa and Mr. Jones.”
There was a long silence from the other side.
“Tell her I am sorry.”
“I will.”
Elizabeth continued down the passage toward her mother's room.
* * *
Mrs. Bennet was no better the following morning. The pain in her head had worsened during the night, and she had been sick twice before dawn. Mrs. Phillips had slept only a few hours in a guest chamber before returning to her sister's bedside.
Mr. Jones came early and remained longer than he had the day before.
When he came downstairs, Mr. Bennet was waiting for him with Jane and Elizabeth.
“Her condition concerns me more this morning,” Mr. Jones said. “The continued pain and sickness are troubling. She must remain in bed and be kept as quiet as possible. I shall come again this afternoon.”
“Is she in danger?” Mr. Bennet asked.
“I cannot say that she is, but neither would I dismiss the possibility. Send for me immediately if there is any sudden change.”
Mrs. Phillips came down after he left and found the family gathered in the drawing room.
“He has frightened Frances,” she said. “She asked me whether she was going to die, and I told her not to talk such nonsense. She has had headaches before.”
Jane took her aunt's hand. “Mr. Jones did not say that Mamma is dying. He wants us to watch her carefully.”
“Well, of course we shall watch her. I am going back upstairs as soon as I have had some tea.”
Kitty began to cry.
Mrs. Phillips drew her close. “None of that, Kitty. Your mamma needs a quiet house, not all of us frightening ourselves before there is anything to be frightened about.”
The morning passed slowly.
Mrs. Bennet slept for long intervals, and when she woke, she spoke little. Mrs. Phillips stayed beside her while Jane and Elizabeth divided their time between the bedchamber and the rest of the family.
Shortly before noon, Alice came to Elizabeth.
“Miss Lydia is asking again whether she may see her mother.”
Elizabeth went to her father.
“Papa, Lydia has asked several times to see Mamma. I think we should allow it.”
Mr. Bennet put aside his book. “Mr. Jones said she was to be kept quiet.”
“Lydia understands. She has been frightened since yesterday and only wishes to see her.”
He considered this before answering. “Very well. Take her yourself, and if she upsets your mother, bring her away.”
Elizabeth went upstairs to take Lydia to their mother's room.
The girl who came out bore little resemblance to the furious Lydia they had dragged home from Oakham Mount. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and she kept her head bowed.
“Is she very ill, Lizzy?”
“She needs quiet. You may sit with her, but you must not excite her.”
“I will be careful.”
Mrs. Phillips was beside the bed when they entered. Mrs. Bennet opened her eyes at the sound of the door.
“Mamma,” Lydia whispered.
Mrs. Bennet looked at her youngest daughter.
Lydia approached the bed and began to cry. “I am sorry, Mamma. I shall never disobey again if you will only get well.”
Mrs. Bennet lifted her hand weakly.
Lydia seized it and pressed it against her cheek.
“Lydia.”
That was all she said.
Mrs. Phillips put an arm around Lydia's shoulders. “Sit quietly beside her. You may stay if you do not upset yourself or your mother.”
Lydia sat down and held her mother's hand.
Elizabeth left them together.
For the remainder of the afternoon, Lydia made no complaint about returning to the nursery. She asked only how her mother did and whether she might see her again.
Mr. Jones returned as promised. Mrs. Bennet was awake and complained that the pain had become unbearable. He left medicines with Hill and repeated his instruction that someone remain with her.
Mrs. Phillips refused to go home.
“You may tell Mr. Phillips that I shall stay with Frances again tonight. He can send whatever I require.”
By evening the house had become unusually quiet.
After dinner Jane went upstairs to relieve Mrs. Phillips, and Elizabeth remained below with her father, Mary and Kitty. The three sisters plied their needles in silence while Mr. Bennet attempted to read.
A scream sounded overhead.
Elizabeth was out of her chair and running down the hall when Jane appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Papa! Send for Mr. Jones!”
Mr. Bennet ran into the hall as Elizabeth hurried upstairs.
Mrs. Phillips stood beside the bed, crying out her sister’s name. Mrs. Bennet lay motionless against the pillows, her face strangely altered.
“Frances, look at me. Frances!”
Elizabeth went to the bed.
“Mamma?”
There was no response.
She touched her mother's hand.
“Mamma, can you hear me?”
Nothing.
Mrs. Phillips began to sob. “She was speaking to me. She said my name, and then she made such a strange sound. Oh, Frances, wake up.”
Elizabeth stood beside the bed looking down at her mother. Was it beginning again?