by Linda Phelps
“You have little to say on that subject!” cried Caroline. “I well remember the tricks you played to get Hurst to notice you. You were a shameless flirt.”
“That is a course you would do well to follow, if you wish to catch Darcy!” cried Louisa. “If you had followed my example you might today be married to George Longstreet.”
For a moment the women glared at each other, recognizing the approach to a familiar conversation which seldom ended without recriminations. Then Caroline resumed her pacing and Louisa returned to her book.
When a safe interval had returned each to calmness Louisa spoke. “I do miss town,” she complained. “It is so thin here. How is one to spend her time in such a place?”
“Perhaps we should learn to hunt,” said Caroline. “Hunting seems to keep Charles and Darcy and Hurst busy.” Both women laughed at the absurd idea.
“We could send to town for some hunting clothes,” Louisa said.
“I, of course, do not suffer from an excess of leisure, for I have the full responsibility for the management of Netherfield,” said Caroline. “I have not the time to read book upon book, as you have.”
Louisa turned to face her. “When we are in town, I have full responsibility for our house. Lord knows you are there often enough to be aware of the demands upon my time. And at present I have Mr. Hurst’s pleasure as my responsibility. Should you ever marry you will understand what that entails.”
They faced away from each other.
Eventually Louisa asked, “And how do you think you progress in the esteem of Mr. Darcy?”
“Quite well, thank you,” said Caroline. “I am entirely pleased with him.”
“And he with you?”
“I believe he is becoming attached,” said Caroline. “Perhaps in a year you and Hurst will visit us at Pemberly. It is such a fine house, more than anything you can expect your husband ever to provide you. And I wager Mr. Darcy will need to be tended to quite as much as Mr. Hurst.”
“One could imagine you have been there, although I know you have not,” said Louisa. “I wish you the best, Sister, but please remember that there are many charming young ladies in the world who may also aspire to become mistress of Pemberly.”
Caroline looked upon her sister with disdain. “I give them quite as much consideration as you did those women who competed with you for the hand of Mr. Hurst. How clever of you to demonstrate friendship to them in public while giving attentions which they dared not when you had the man to yourself for a few private minutes.”
Louisa looked angrily at her sister, “Be careful, Caroline. You are on the verge of quarreling with me. I’ll not have it.”
“If there is to be a quarrel, I will not be the one who started it,” said Caroline. “I have witnessed your methods of catching a husband, and I do not choose to follow them.”
“And when you have failed with Mr. Darcy, there is always William Longstreet.”
This last bit of spite was unforgiveable, and both sisters realized it. The words could not be unsaid. They hung in the air.
From long practice, the sisters had learned that when acrimony began to dominate their conversations, they must accommodate themselves with a few moments of silence. Once each had lost the red in her cheeks Louisa said, “I am sorry. I should not have mentioned the Longstreets. We are home together too much. We must go out calling again. This house is too silent.”
Caroline indulged herself with a longer minute of hostility, but what her sister said was true. “I have an idea. Let us ask someone to come visit us. We need to be entertained by an unfamiliar face.”
“I suggest Jane Bennet, “said Louisa. “She’s the least tiresome of the girls we have met.”
“But not her sister. I do not wish to see her sister.”
“I believe you,” said Louisa.
In a few minutes Caroline brought a note to Louisa for her approval.
My dear friend,
If you are not so compassionate as to dine today with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day’s tete-a-tete between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come to us as soon as you can on the receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.
Yours ever,
Caroline Bingley
A servant was dispatched to Longbourn with the invitation. The sisters, more cordial now that they had a diversion to anticipate, took turns reading aloud from a recently arrived novel. The time passed pleasantly enough until the servant reported that he had completed his task
Within minutes the men could be heard in the courtyard along with their dogs.
“Why, it is early for them to return to dress for dinner,” said Louisa.
Bingley called from the doorway, “We are just in time to avoid the rain. It begins this moment.”
Caroline walked to the window, “So it does. How unfortunate.”
The other men entered the room. “Not at all unfortunate. Rain in November is quite to be expected,” said Darcy.
“Oh, dear,” said Louisa. I hope it will not cause difficulties for our friend.” She explained that they expected Jane Bennet to come for the evening.
“A bit nasty for the carriage driver,” said Hurst.
Mr. Bingley went to the window. “I do not see her. Perhaps she will not come.”
“Do not be anxious on that score, brother,” said Caroline. “I am sure she is already on the way.”
The men adjourned to dress for the evening. In an half an hour Bingley could be heard running down the staircase, shouting for the butler.
“Why, Charles, whatever is the matter?” cried Caroline.
“Make sure the fire is good,” he called and a minute later escorted a soaked and windblown Jane Bennet into the room.”
“I am dripping water on the carpet,” said Jane. “I am so sorry.”
“Nonsense,” cried Bingley. “You must be warmed and put into dry clothing. Louisa! Caroline! Call your maids. Miss Bennet must be put to rights.”
“But whatever has happened,” cried Louisa. “Did your carriage overturn?”
Before Jane could answer Bingley said, “Horseback! I saw her from the upstairs windows. She was riding a horse!”
“The carriage horses were needed on the farm,” said Jane in a faint voice, and directly began to cough.
Bingley led her to the fire. “Brandy!” he demanded. “And a shawl.”
“You are in a state,” said Caroline, handing her shawl to her brother. It was not certain if she referenced Bingley or Miss Bennet. He wrapped the shawl around the shivering woman, taking the opportunity to rub her hands and arms. The sisters exchanged glances with Darcy. Did Jane Bennet’s condition present such an emergency that Bingley could ignore the proprieties?
Jane began to shiver. “If I may be so presumptuous, may I return to my home in your carriage? I do not think I will be good company tonight.”
“Of course,” said Louisa. I will call for it—”
“Indeed no, Miss Bennet,” interrupted Bingley. “You are in no state to attempt the journey. You will sleep here! Louisa, have the maids make up a room, the blue one, I think, and make sure they make a roaring fire.” He turned to his sisters. “Was it beyond the wisdom of either of you to send a coach for her?”
“Please,” said Jane, “I do not ever want to make such trouble for your servants. It is a great imposition on this family. I cannot allow it.”
“You must allow it,” said Bingley. “Caroline, send one of the men for the apothecary.”
“No, you must not,” insisted Jane.
Bingley threw up his hands. “Sisters, convince her.” They were silent.
Darcy stepped forward, “Miss Bennet, I pray you will take advantage of the offered hospitality. Think how concerned we would be were you to set out into this dark, wet night, and none of us knowing until morning if you have arrived safely. That would be extremely worrisome for all of us. We would be unable to r
est tonight if we did not have immediate knowledge of your safety. Your leaving now would be a heartless act. Bingley is quite right. The only place for you is here, where you will be dry and cared for, and we can be easy.”
Jane Bennet was anxious to reject the many comforts she had been offered, but while she could press her case against Bingley and his sisters, she was more than a little intimidated by Mr. Darcy. In any event, she would not argue with him. “I thank you,” said she. “I will stay the night, but only that. If my horse is properly stabled tonight and if the morning brings sun, I will relieve you my care then.”
So it was that the men went to Meryton to dine, the sisters ate their quiet dinner in the great dining room of Netherfield, and Jane Bennet ate what she could from a tray that was delivered to the blue room. When the sisters came to see how she fared, she was already asleep. She had thrown her covers from her, and an unhealthy blush shone on her cheeks. They exchanged glances and slipped quietly from the room, sending one of the housemaids to watch over their friend.
Miss Bingley’s journal (Netherfield)
It seems we shall have Jane Bennet in residence here for a time. The foolish girl came to dine with us, but instead of coming in a carriage, as any civilized person would expect, she rode a horse and was therefore drenched to the skin with cold rain. I am sure I never would have invited her had I known she would do such a thing.
Now she is ill, coughing and hoarse and red about the nose and cheeks. I am not at all sure she will be able to return to her home tomorrow, even if her family thinks to send a carriage. One knows that such symptoms can lead quickly to an illness with more serious consequences, although I’m sure that such a fate will not befall Miss Bennet. If it should happen so, it is not in the least my fault. I never guessed she would not come in a carriage.
Charles is acting rather silly about her illness. People do not die of trifling colds He speaks of her sufferings constantly, and it is all Louisa and I can do to keep him from spending a long vigil outside her room. To my mind, she is not fit to be seen by any man, so we keep him away. Still he sends every hour for word of her condition.
Let us hope her tenancy at Netherfield will be brief.
Mr. Darcy’s Journal (Netherfield)
Jane Bennet was caught by the rain when she came to visit the sisters today. She was thoroughly soaked. I wonder at her parents. It is not beyond the intellect of men to expect rain on any November day. Still, they allowed her to travel on horseback!
Bingley is frantic with worry about this, his latest love. He has given orders for a fast horse to be kept saddled so he can send for the apothecary immediately, should he be needed. He is ready to send to town for a physician and hot house strawberries to tempt her appetite. He has been foolish enough about other women, but this seems extreme. I suppose he enjoys the opportunity of providing her with her every need, as if he were a hero in a novel.
In fact, I quite admire his inclination to sympathize with and care for a woman he favours. Next summer when we are all at Pemberly, I will do what I can to create an attachment between him and Georgiana. Such a man will do much to help her forget her earlier error.
Miss Bingley’s Journal (Netherfield)
How arrogant! Lizzie Bennet has come to see how her sister does. She did not even come on a horse, but walked the entire three miles through what has been left in the countryside by a violent rainstorm. Not only walked, but unescorted! I can picture her jumping over pools of standing water and catching her skirt on a stile. (The first evidence of style I have ever seen in her.) If I had been told Louisa was on her death bed, I’m sure I could not be persuaded to attempt such a journey. Nor would Louisa go to such extraordinary lengths should I be the victim of illness. Further, I could never make my family or dear Mr. Darcy uneasy for my safety in such a fashion.
When Elizabeth Bennet walked into the breakfast room it was all I could do to keep my countenance. While last night Jane Bennet was concerned about leaving a little water on the carpet, her sister was completely unconcerned about leaving dirt! What a sight she was! Her stockings were filthy, and her petticoat!
Eliza, (as she is also known, she has an uncommon number of Christine names, adopted in an attempt to make herself seem more important than she is) did not seem conscious of the appearance she presented. She asked only to see her sister. Charles found this concern to be commendable, and he made sure that she was shown the blue room straight away. Louisa and I joined the Bennet sisters when we had breakfasted. I’m afraid our unexpected patient is not healed. She complained of head ache, and it is obvious that she remains feverish.
Unfortunately, when the apothecary examined her, he pronounced her unable to travel. Back into bed she went, and Louisa and I spent much of the day expressing our concern while discovering how her condition proceeded. I very much wanted to see an improvement that would rid us of her presence, and especially of the presence of her sister, but there was none.
Thus we were in the sick room as night began to fall, and Elizabeth asked for the use of our carriage, to which request I readily acceded, but no. Jane Bennet would not be without her sister. What could I do? I sent a servant to Longbourn to fetch clothing for both of our unanticipated guests. I might have refused, but Charles would have insisted that I give hospitality to both. Anything to comfort his latest attachment.
Really, I feel quite discommoded by all this sending of servants and visiting of sickrooms. People who cannot feel a little rain without becoming ill would do better to stay home.
Darcy’s Journal (Netherfield)
This Elizabeth Bennet interests me. At the Lucas evening party she turned down an opportunity to dance with me, although since I have been in this society I have asked no other local woman. She was polite but very determined not to partner with me. Still, she smiled, and her dark eyes –they are rather remarkable--regarded me with some sympathy. The dancing was very informal, and perhaps, like me, she dislikes making a spectacle of herself. As she walked off I could not help but notice the lightness of her steps, I wager the next time we meet at a ball I will be more persistent and she more agreeable.
She came here this morning to inquire after her sister, who is being tended in one of the bed chambres. Had I known of her plan I would have made sure to arrange for one of Bingley’s carriages to carry her. As it was, she marched into the breakfast room, windblown and dirty. She had walked the entire distance!
One must admire the character of a woman who would make her way in this fashion. I am rather glad I did not know of it until after the fact, for a woman walking the countryside without an escort is not always safe from predatory males. Had I guessed what she did, I would have felt concern.
Despite the mud that clung to her stockings and hem, she had an extraordinary bloom about her. Her cheeks were scarlet from exercise. I could not look away from her lovely eyes. I trust no one noticed, unless the lady herself did.
She was welcomed with expressions of warmth and shown to her sister. Miss Elizabeth reappeared for dinner, looking much more like herself. All asked about Jane Bennet, but there was no good news on that front. Bingley expressed much dismay. He had hoped Miss Bennet would be well enough to join us that evening.
He kept the attention of Elizabeth throughout the meal, for which I was grateful, for I was able to look at her without her noticing. However, when I realized that Caroline and Louisa had their eyes upon me. I immediately attended to my plate.
Elizabeth returned to her sister directly the meal was finished. Without delay the sisters began to discuss her.
Caroline: “She has no style, no beauty. She is full of pride and impertinence.”
Louisa: “She looked quite wild this morning.”
Caroline: “Her hair so blowsy and untidy!”
There was more which I do not remember. I was angry at the sisters and felt a desire to argue with them, but luckily Bingley acted as my proxy by disagreeing with them entirely. He praised the loyalty and love Elizabeth Bennet displayed
by her actions.
Caroline then spoke to me: “I am afraid, Mr. Darcy that this adventure has rather affected your admiration for her fine eyes.”
She and Louisa began to snigger, as if they knew a secret.
“Not at all,” said I. “They were brightened by the exercise.” This remark turned their sniggers into open laughter. They assumed I was speaking in humourous irony. I saw no reason to correct their assumption.
They then went on to discuss the Bennet family and its low connections. Most of this was aimed at Bingley, for they want him to understand that Jane Bennet is not worthy of his notice.
Later Elizabeth came to the drawing room, saying her sister slept, and chose to read a book rather than join the card game. I was relieved that she did not take a place near me at the table. I do not feel quite myself when I am in her presence.
Miss Bingley’s Journal (Netherfield)
I am vastly put out by Elizabeth Bennet. First she disgraced the breakfast room with her disheveled appearance, and then she joined us after dinner and had the poor taste to argue with me. I was speaking to Darcy about his dear sister Georgiana, for whom I have the highest regard and affection. When I mentioned how accomplished Georgiana is, Charles claimed to have discovered that all women are accomplished.
Even for Charles that was an absurd comment. He listed the accomplishments of these ladies; painted tables and netted purses! Why even some of our housemaids might manage to net a purse, should they ever have the proper materials and enough time away from their duties.
I insisted that an accomplished woman has many more talents. Louisa and I agreed that we did not know more than a half dozen who could be so called.
Now Miss Elizabeth asked what we comprehend to be an accomplished woman. I gave my criteria: A thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing and the modern languages. Darcy added the requirement that she has improved her mind by way of extensive reading. We thought as one on this topic.
Elizabeth claimed surprise that we knew any women who fit the model. And this despite the fact that I and Louisa were before her as she spoke!
