Page 16 of A Most Beloved Sister
Declaring fatigue, she and Kitty chose to remain near the shops in the hopes of being introduced to some of the handsome young officers who had recently settled in. For all that Lydia spoke of wanting to marry the wealthy man from Derbyshire, she couldn’t say no to admiring a man in a red coat.
Elizabeth continued on her way to Netherfield, doing her best to quiet the concerns in her mind by concentrating on the scenery. Unfortunately, she became too lost in her thoughts and did not pay attention to her surroundings. She muttered an oath as she landed in a mud puddle, the wet dirt splashing up onto the hem of her dress.
It was in that state that she arrived in view of Netherfield with tired ankles, dirty shoes, and a flushed face. To her dismay, she was shown into the breakfast parlor instead of directly up the stairs to her sister. All the Netherfield residents—save Jane—were still sitting down to eat their meal, and their surprise was evident on each of their faces.
“Good morning,” Elizabeth said with false brightness. “I have come to inquire after my sister. How is she doing?”
Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst exchanged glances before the younger replied, “I am afraid she slept very ill indeed. She was awake when I inquired after her via a maid, but she was too unwell to join us for breakfast.”
“It is quite distressing!” exclaimed Bingley, running a hand through his hair. “I am quite dismayed that she was caught in the rain. I understand a bolt of lightning startled the horse, causing her to dash away into the woods. It took some time for your servant to find Miss Bennet and get her back on the path toNetherfield, so I’m afraid she did not arrive until well after the rain had begun.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened at this information, and she begged to be excused to see her sister. A footman was summoned to lead the way, and she dipped a brief curtsy. The door hadn’t even closed behind her when she heard Miss Bingley loudly declare, “Did you see her hem, Louisa?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and followed the servant up the stairs and into the guest wing of the house. Upon opening the door, she was quite alarmed when she discovered her sister to be very pale and feverish.
Jane sat up and burst into noisy sobs when she saw Elizabeth. “Oh, Lizzy!”
Sighing, Elizabeth sat on the bed next to her sister and pulled her into her arms. “There now, Jane. I’m here.”
Eventually, Jane’s tears gave way to slumber, allowing Elizabeth to gently lay her back on the pillow. Her worry had grown considerably during the time she held her sister; Jane’s body had felt far warmer than was normal. Between her tears and temperature, it was clear that Jane was quite unwell indeed.
She crossed the room and rang for a maid. “Can you ask Miss Bingley to send a servant for Mr. Jones, please?”
Returning to her sister’s side, Elizabeth began to pray.Please, Lord, let him come quickly.
Chapter 5
Elizabeth anxiously paced her sister’s room at Netherfield, impatient for the apothecary to arrive. When Mr. Jones finally did come with his bag of herbs and treatments, she breathed a sigh of relief.
While sitting on the bed next to his patient, Mr. Jones placed a hand on Jane’s forehead and frowned. “Yes, she does have quite the fever, doesn’t she?”
He then picked up her wrist and placed his fingers on the inside. His frown deepened as he counted the seconds tick by on his pocket watch. Finally, he looked over at Elizabeth. “I need to listen to her heart. Do I have your permission?”
Elizabeth smiled at the man upon whom she looked to almost as a grandfather. “Of course, sir.”
He chuckled. “I know I have done it dozens of times, but I still prefer to ask permission first when my patient is female.”
Mr. Jones turned his head and leaned down until his ear was resting on Jane’s chest just above her heart. Once again, he marked the passage of time on his watch. When a full minute had passed, he raised his head and returned the watch to his pocket.
After pulling a small notebook out of his bag, he jotted down a few lines before looking up at Elizabeth. “Her heart still seemsto be skipping beats, as it always has, but I don’t like how fast it is. She needs to take willow bark tea infused with lavender three times a day. She also needs to drink bone broth every hour to keep up her stamina.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together and swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in her throat. “Do you think she will be all right?”
The apothecary sighed. “If it were anyone else, Miss Elizabeth, I would say yes. But there is just so much about Jane that we don’t know—and may never know. I’ve only met a couple of other children with a condition similar to Jane’s; none of them lived past the age of ten.”
Tears filled Elizabeth’s eyes, and she blinked them away furiously. Mr. Jones gathered his things and prepared to leave. As he passed by Elizabeth, he patted her shoulder and said gently, “There now, Miss Elizabeth. Jane is in God’s hands, and He may yet again surprise us.”
The door closed behind him, leaving Elizabeth alone in the room with her sister. She took a deep, shaky breath, then sat down heavily on the armchair and let the tears finally fall.
Miss Bingley’s poor hostessing was of benefit for Elizabeth, as when a maid finally was sent to check on the two eldest Bennet sisters, the only sign of Elizabeth’s weeping was the damp handkerchief in her hand.
“Begging your pardon, miss,” the girl said, dipping a curtsy, “but the mistress wanted to know if you would be joining them for tea.”
“No, I would like to remain with my sister,” Elizabeth said firmly.
She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or offended by the fact that it was another two hours completely before anyone bothered to check on them. While it allowed Jane plenty of time to rest—and Elizabeth plenty of time to cry more—it was dreadfully neglectful of their hostess not to even offer a maid to sit with them.
When at last another knock came on the door, it was Miss Bingley herself that breezed through, along with Mrs. Hurst.
