Chapter 36

Elizabeth's Bedchamber

Longbourn

The Next Morning

5 th December, 1811

Elizabeth's eyelashes fluttered briefly, and she groaned as she turned away from the light streaming through the thin curtains of her eastward window. It was far too early to wake up!

A minute, or five, or ten passed, and her brain woke up sufficiently to inform her that it must be quite late if the light was sufficiently bright to bother her.

She rolled over again and peered first at the window and then at the clock, whereupon she sat up in surprise. It was very late indeed, almost 11 o'clock. She had not woken up so late in many a month! It was most peculiar; even the morning after the Netherfield ball, she had awoke by ten o'clock.

On the other hand, the last weeks had been physically and emotionally fatiguing, and perhaps it was not so surprising that her body and mind both needed extra rest.

Elizabeth stretched her arms and back, cast aside her blankets, and hurried over to the fire, which had been started by a maid many hours previously. She threw in a log, poked the embers vigorously with a fire iron, and was rewarded with a blaze of heat. For five minutes, she merely sat, basking in the warmth, her mind pleasantly calm. It was a relief to have the wedding safely over. Today she, her two younger sisters, and Mrs. Bennet would spend an hour discussing changes in the household. Kitty would be moving into Jane's bedchamber, as Elizabeth had no desire to give up her own, and Lydia had not yet decided whether she preferred Kitty's or Mary's chambers.

But yes, it should be a gentle, lazy day, and Mr. Bennet, who had, she understood, continued to drink heavily throughout the previous afternoon, would likely spend the day in his own rooms.

Her sleepy cheer was interrupted by a loud gurgle from her stomach, and she realized that she was quite hungry. She pushed the remaining wood back in the fireplace to ensure that no sparks would leap out into the room and made her leisurely way downstairs into the dining room, where Kitty and Lydia and Mrs. Montgomery were breaking their fast.

"Good morning," she said, and the others responded with a chorus of cheerful greetings. "Good morning!"

"I like your room better," Lydia said to her next older sister, obviously continuing a conversation which Elizabeth's entrance had interrupted. "It has more windows than Mary's."

"Mary's room is bigger, though," Kitty argued, "and the bed is a little larger, too."

"I am not a large person," Lydia protested. "I do not need a bigger bed."

"That is true enough," Mrs. Montgomery said. "I think it entirely reasonable for Lydia to move into your old room, Kitty."

"But if you do that, and I take Jane's old room, we will be in different wings of the house!" Kitty cried out.

"Oh! I had not thought of that! It would be exasperating to not be able to pass easily from my room to yours and back again! Very well. I will move into Mary's room."

Kitty smiled in relief. "I am glad."

Elizabeth, who had been collecting food from the buffet, poured herself a cup of coffee, added milk, and then made her way to the table.

"I would be glad to help you move your clothing and jewelry and trinkets into your rooms," she offered.

"I was thinking the servants could do it," Lydia remarked.

"Well, they can assist," Elizabeth said, "but keep in mind they have all been working very hard these last weeks preparing for the wedding and the breakfast thereafter. I think it would be kind to help with the process. Also, you will need to oversee where you put your things."

"That is true," Kitty said just as the door opened and Mrs. Bennet walked in.

Elizabeth, who was lifting her coffee cup to her mouth, set it down quickly at the sight of her mother's face and leaped to her feet. "Mamma, what is it?"

This provoked the other ladies to turn their attention on the matriarch, whose forehead was creased and her skin pale.

"Girls," Mrs. Bennet said in a carefully controlled voice, "I have sent for Mr. Jones. Your father is not well today."

Elizabeth felt briefly light headed and said, "Not well? What do you mean?"

Her mother paused, and Elizabeth felt her breath come faster. "Mamma!" she cried, "he is not ... you are not saying that Father is...?"

Mrs. Bennet walked over, gently pushed her second daughter into a chair, and then took a seat herself.

"He is not ... gone ," she said, "but he ... he cannot speak. I do not know exactly what has happened. Mr. Stewart discovered only twenty minutes ago that Mr. Bennet was profoundly unwell. In any case, I do beg you to eat and drink, and I will let you know what Mr. Jones says."

"Yes, Mamma," her daughters murmured meekly, and Mrs. Bennet left the room.

Elizabeth, gazing at her sisters' pale countenances, said, "Kitty, Lydia, as Mamma said, it is important to keep up your strength. Do eat, my dear sisters."

Her sisters obeyed, but the formerly cheerful atmosphere of the room was now one of gloom and anxiety, and Elizabeth found herself struggling to follow her own advice as she stared at her plate. What had happened to her father?

/

Drawing Room

Longbourn

An Hour Later

The crackling and popping of the fire in the hearth was the only sound in the drawing room. No knitting needles clicked, no fabric rustled as it shifted, nor was the silence broken by the sound of pages turning, and certainly there was no conversation. Someone listening outside the door might be forgiven for thinking the room deserted, not realizing that all the ladies of the house had gathered together and were sitting inside in an agony of silent apprehension.

Elizabeth watched her family, her own hands twisted together in her lap until her knuckles were white. Mrs. Bennet was staring blankly at the opposite wall, Kitty was looking out the window, Lydia gazed at the fire, and Mrs. Montgomery, like Elizabeth, was glancing from one pale, strained face to the next. She caught Elizabeth's eye and smiled faintly, but it was a thin and anxious effort.

Elizabeth looked up hastily as the door opened and Mr. Jones stepped inside. She popped to her feet as if thrown, her family likewise rising all around her.

"I fear that Mr. Bennet suffered an apoplexy at some point last night," Mr. Jones said, getting directly to the point. "He is quite unable to speak, and the right side of his face and body are greatly weakened."

A horrified silence fell until Lydia, with tears in her eyes, asked, "Is there medicine that will help?"

"No, Miss Lydia," the apothecary said gently, "or at least, nothing that I am aware of. I recommend that you summon a physician with more experience. Perhaps someone with additional knowledge or skill can assist Mr. Bennet."

Elizabeth swallowed a great lump in her throat and looked at her mother, who, most unusually, appeared frightened and vulnerable.

"Do you have any recommendations, Mr. Jones?" Elizabeth asked, her voice shaking.

"There is a physician named Mr. Harding who lives not too far distant, but I am not certain as to whether he has experience with such afflictions," Jones said. At this moment, the door opened, and the butler stepped inside and said, "Mr. Darcy has called, Madame."

"Oh," Mrs. Bennet said helplessly. "We cannot. Pray tell Mr. Darcy…"

"Wait please, Mr. Stewart," Elizabeth requested and turned to face her mother. "Mamma, Mr. Darcy is well connected, and he might know an excellent physician in Town."

"We surely should not ask Mr. Darcy for…," Mrs. Bennet began, and then her expression firmed and she nodded. "You are quite right, Lizzy. Mr. Darcy may not be a close friend of our family, but he is Mr. Bingley's dear companion. Perhaps he would be willing to assist us. Mr. Stewart, kindly escort Mr. Darcy in here."

Darcy, entering the drawing room a minute later, was startled to see all the Bennet ladies standing in the middle of the room waiting for him. Quickly, his surprise turned to worry at the anxious expressions worn by all the women.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Bennet said, and he noted with deepening concern that her voice was shaking. "Mr. Bennet experienced some kind of attack last night, and is gravely ill. Mr. Jones has suggested that we summon a physician from London to attend him, and while I know we are not well enough acquainted to warrant such a request, given the situation, we wondered if perhaps you had any recommendations."

"Of course!" Darcy said promptly, and his eyes, quite independent of his thoughts, shifted to gaze at Elizabeth, whose brown eyes were filmed with tears, and whose face was white. "Yes, I have an excellent physician in Town, and if you like, I will send a letter off by express immediately."

"Thank you," Mrs. Bennet said with obvious relief, and Elizabeth managed a slight smile through unshed tears.

"It is my honor," Darcy said, and as conventional as the response was, he meant it. It had not, of course, been his expectation that he would find Longbourn in an uproar due to the sudden illness of the patriarch, but he cared for Miss Bennet and was pleased that he would be able to assist her and her family in some small way.

"There is a desk over here in the corner," Elizabeth said with a gesture, "and there is paper and ink and quill. Lydia and Kitty, could you run out to the stables and inform them that the carriage will be needed soon?"

The girls nodded and hurried out of the room, whereupon Elizabeth turned an apologetic look on the butler. "Mr. Stewart, I know you would ordinarily send a boy to the stables, but I think my sisters need something to do."

"I understand completely, Miss."

Darcy had, by this time, taken his seat at the desk and was dashing off a quick letter to his private physician, even as he found himself listening keenly to the conversation continuing on behind his back.

"Mamma," Elizabeth said, "what ought we to do about Jane and Mary? Should we tell them about Father's illness? The very day after their weddings?"

Mrs. Bennet was silent for a moment and then said, "I do not … I would rather not unless it is absolutely necessary. What do you think, Mr. Jones?"

Silence fell for a full thirty seconds, and then Jones said, with obvious reluctance, "Mrs. Bennet, I do not, of course, know exactly what the future holds for your husband, but I believe that he may not survive the next four and twenty hours."

This provoked murmurs of distress from the ladies, and when Elizabeth spoke again, her voice was hoarse with suppressed emotion. "You think it is as bad as that, sir?"

"I am afraid I do. I am not certain, of course. The only one who knows the future is the Lord Almighty. I merely warn you that there is a high chance that Mr. Bennet will pass on soon. Given that, do you think Mrs. Bingley and Mrs. Collins would wish to know the situation?"

There was a short moment of silence, and then Mrs. Bennet said, "What do you think, Lizzy?"

"I think Jane would wish to know and Mary would not, given the circumstances, I mean. Jane is nearby and can visit Father within the hour if she chooses. Mary is, assuming all went well, already in Kent. For her to rush back when the situation is at the moment uncertain seems unwise."

"That is very sensible," Mrs. Bennet agreed. Darcy had, by this time, finished his note, and after scanning it again to check for legibility, folded it, sealed it with a wafer, and quickly wrote the direction on it. He then stood up and handed it to Mr. Stewart, who left immediately.

"Mrs. Bennet," Darcy said, "would you like me to carry a note to Netherfield to Mrs. Bingley on your behalf?"

The mistress of the house hesitated and then said, "I would prefer if Elizabeth could take the news personally, if you are willing, my dear."

"I am," Elizabeth said stoutly, looking out the window, which was now showing dark skies and increasing wind. "May I have the carriage?"

"Of course. Lizzy, would you also stop by Meryton on the way and leave a quick note for my sister Phillips? I would be grateful if she were able to join me. I feel the need for my older sister's comfort today."

"Yes, perhaps I could drop off the note, and then pick her up after I speak to Jane," Elizabeth mused, her brow furrowed.

"If I may," Darcy said, "I came here in a carriage and would be pleased to escort Miss Bennet to Netherfield, and you could send your own carriage to fetch Mrs. Phillips."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy, that is both sensible and kind," Mrs. Bennet said gratefully. "I fear I am not thinking clearly. Yes, that would do very well. Lizzy, take Sally with you for propriety."

"Of course, Mamma."