Page 53 of Companions of Their Youth
And neither spoke again until they reached the gates of Netherfield.
Chapter 11
It was no more than the work of a quarter hour for Elizabeth and Mark to greet their hosts and be shown up the stairs to a guest room. Elizabeth had been secretly concerned that Jane had perhaps slightly exaggerated her malaise in order to remain longer at Netherfield, but Jane’s flushed cheeks and heated brow put that worry to rest.
“Thank you for coming,” Jane said hoarsely as Elizabeth dabbed her face with a cool cloth.
“Of course,” Elizabeth smiled warmly at her elder sister. “I know you would do the same for me.”
“You need not fuss over.”
“I shall cease when you stop looking like a boiled lobster,” Elizabeth replied, forcing lightness into her tone.
“It appears Mr. Jones was never actually sent for,” Mark said, returning to the room. “Bingley is quite livid about thematter; apparently, Miss Bingley’s instructions to the staff weremisunderstood.”
He spoke the last word in a tone of skepticism, exchanging a look with Elizabeth. Jane, however, responded in her typically guileless manner. “I feel terrible being such an inconvenience. I am certain I should be well enough to return home with you.”
She attempted to sit up, but the movement provoked a fit of coughing, and Elizabeth gently pushed her back onto the pillows. “Nonsense,” Elizabeth chided. “You are clearly in no state to be moved, and I will wager my best bonnet that Mr. Jones will agree with me.”
“I would take that wager if I had a chance of winning,” Mark said with a smirk, “as I believe it would suit me much better than it does you, as you are only tolerable—or so I hear.”
“I beg your pardon!” Elizabeth exclaimed in faux outrage.
Mark ignored his twin, choosing instead of wink at a giggling Jane. “Alas, I fear it would a losing bet—Jane does seem quite unwell—and I have no bonnets of my own to lose.”
Jane giggled, and the trio spent the next half hour in banter until a knock at the door interrupted their teasing. Mr. Jones entered, brushing the damp from his coat sleeves and nodding politely to those assembled. With a quiet professionalism, he approached Jane’s bedside and took her hand to examine her pulse.
“You are not to exert yourself,” he said, “nor sit up longer than necessary. I will leave powders with the housekeeper to reduce the fever and ease the congestion, and I suggest light broth, warm tea, and cool cloths for comfort.”
He turned to Elizabeth. “She is in no danger, Miss Bennet, but exposure to further damp or cold could worsen matters considerably.”
“I understand,” Elizabeth said. “Thank you, Mr. Jones.”
Jane murmured something unintelligible. Mr. Jones nodded gently and gave her hand a light pat. “You will be well soon enough, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth glanced at her brother, who gave a small nod. Mr. Jones turned to him. “Miss Bennet will be quite safe here, so long as her hosts ensure she is cared for with diligence. I will check on her again tomorrow.”
“I understand,” Elizabeth said sincerely, rising to accompany him out. “Thank you, Mr. Jones.”
The apothecary gave a respectful nod and gathered his things. As he stepped into the corridor, he found Bingley pacing near the banister, worry etched across his face.
“Well?” Bingley asked at once.
Mr. Jones repeated his assessment, this time with a few more technical details. Bingley’s expression did not ease until the words “no danger” were repeated.
“She is very welcome to stay,” Bingley said quickly. “For as long as needed. I shall instruct the staff to see to anything she may require. My home is at their disposal.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said from the doorway. “That is most generous.”
Bingley turned to her with an earnest expression. “Would your brother care to join me downstairs while you tend to yoursister? We were just beginning to review some of the issues concerning the boundary drainage.”
Elizabeth turned back to look at Mark over her shoulder. He looked to her for confirmation, and she gave a quick nod. “Go along. I shall be quite content here with Jane for a while.”
Mark followed Bingley down the staircase, leaving Elizabeth alone with Jane once more. She spent the next hour changing out the cloth, encouraging Jane to sip a little broth, and making her more comfortable in bed. The powders had a mild sedating effect, and soon Jane’s breathing had slowed, her eyes growing heavy.
It was then that the door opened again, this time to reveal Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.
“My dear Miss Bennet,” Miss Bingley said in her smoothest tones. “We simply could not bear the thought of you languishing in bed without company.”
