* * *
Bingley had just swung himself into the saddle, with apologies to Darcy for his tardiness, when they both heard the sound of galloping hooves approaching and saw, speeding down the drive on a great barrel-chested black gelding, a man in the scarlet coat of the militia.
As the soldier pulled up near them, Darcy exclaimed, “Captain Carter? This a surprise. We understood from Colonel Forster that none of your regiment were to leave the camp.”
The captain doffed his shako at them and smiled. “I am glad, very glad, that I have found you before you set off. I heard of your purpose after your visit yesterday, and determined that I must be allowed to assist you. I was inoculated at Oxford, and with that protection I could not face myself in the looking glass if I only sat about the camp at such a time.”
Darcy shared a look of surprise with Bingley, then turned back to their visitor. “Captain, we are both Cambridge men, but I daresay we may be able to tolerate your company in such a cause as this,” he jested.
The captain’s smile turned self-conscious. “Unfortunately, my commanding officer is not convinced of the efficacy of inoculation, and so has allowed me to leave only on the grounds that I shall not return to camp until the trouble has passed.” He looked at Bingley. “I fear, sir, that I must beg for a place to lay my head of an evening. A cot is all I require.”
“Nonsense!” Bingley cried. “You shall be my guest, even as Darcy is.”
Darcy, espying the rucksack tied behind Carter’s saddle, dismounted. “Come, if there are to be three of us, we may start a little later. Bring your bag, and let us divide up our visits.”
With expressions of gratitude from the soldier, all three men entered the house. The housekeeper was asked to prepare a room for the master’s guest, and the captain’s bag was whisked upstairs by a footman. It took them scarce a quarter hour in Bingley’s study to reapportion their tasks, and at Captain Carter’s suggestion they agreed to rotate these appointed rounds, for variety and in order that friends might be met with regularly.
Darcy refrained from claiming the Bennets to be his only ‘friends’ in the neighbourhood, for the only member of that family whose company he enjoyed was already close by, under the same roof as he. Though he must be wary of placing himself too much in her beguiling company, he could and would ensure she knew of her family’s welfare every day.
CHAPTERTHREE
Mrs Hurst had not forgottenher promise to the Bennet sisters, and shortly after breakfast her maid arrived at Jane’s chambers bearing four novels and a short note urging the Bennet ladies to enjoy them and to have no hesitation whatsoever in requesting anything within Mrs Hurst’s power as mistress of Netherfield to supply.
Elizabeth sat with her sister all day, distracting her from the mounting discomfort with conversation and readings, and busying herself with stitchery while Jane slept. She noted with resignation the early signs of the dreaded rash in the form of an increasingly red patch on her sister’s forehead. By the time Mr Jones arrived in the late afternoon, he was able to feel lumps starting beneath the skin.
“Miss Bennet,” he said gently, “the rash is coming on now. I wish to prepare you both for what will follow.” He glanced briefly at Elizabeth, then returned his attention to his patient. “Over the next two or three days, the rash will spread; first, the face, then the upper limbs, then the trunk, and lastly the legs and extremities. It will happen very quickly, beginning with redness and followed soon by bumps beneath the skin. These will, after a few days, become cloudy and this is the most dangerous time. You will feel your worst and be at your weakest. You will be losing fluids every moment, and I cannot stress enough how important it is that you take in as much nourishing liquid as possible. You will not wish to. Your mouth and throat may still be painful, and you may feel that even swallowing is an effort beyond your capabilities. And yet you must.”
He turned to Elizabeth, whose trepidation was plain. “This most trying period could last a week or more. While Miss Bennet’s mouth remains painful, you may find that it is easiest for you both if you administer fluids by way of a long funnel. Ask the housekeeper if there is one here that would be suitable, and if there is not, I will bring one for you.” Elizabeth nodded mutely, now even more frightened.
Mr Jones turned back to Jane. “Miss Bennet, you are young and strong, and I have every confidence in your ability to survive this. Exert yourself to take in nourishment; that is your only task for the next fortnight. In time, the lesions will dry up and scab over. I cannot say you will be comfortable, but by then your mouth and throat should be, if not healed, then greatly improved, and your health will return with rest and food. There will be scarring—there is always scarring—but it is likely to fade over time. When we have got past the worst, I will bring a salve which may help.”
Elizabeth was gladdened that throughout the apothecary’s lengthy explanation, his tone had been calm and kind; Jane’s distress had not been made worse, even when he mentioned scarring. “Have you any questions for me, either of you?”
“Is it true that one may go blind?” Jane asked, her sore throat making her voice raspy and uneven.
“It does happen,” he acknowledged. “And I cannot tell you why. I can only advise you to do everything in your power to keep the fluids from the sores out of your eyes.”
Jane nodded slowly and then subsided back onto her pillows. Elizabeth rose to see Mr Jones to the door. “Thank you for your time and your information. I have nothing to ask you now, and I am sure you have others to see.”
“Unfortunately, I do,” he said. “I received word yesterday of three ailing servants at Haye-Park, whom I must visit today to diagnose.”
Elizabeth and Jane exchanged a look of concern. Haye-Park was occupied by the Gouldings, neighbours and friends of long standing to the Bennets. The younger Mr and Mrs Goulding had three small children, and young Mrs Goulding had not many years previously been Miss Jones. “You will, I hope,” said Elizabeth, “convey our best wishes to your sister, and all the family there?”
Mr Jones bowed. “I shall, I thank you.” He bade them good day and left.
Elizabeth turned back to her sister. “I must insist that you do not fret over the Gouldings, at least not yet! They are not themselves ill, and could not possibly be in more capable hands.”
Jane smiled slightly at her sister’s teasing air and agreed that, beyond adding the Gouldings to her prayers, she would endeavour not to dwell upon melancholy possibilities.
* * *
The next morning, a soft knock again came at the door just after dawn. Jane was awake, her sleep cut short by the discomfort of the rash which was advancing rapidly over her body. Elizabeth slipped out into the passageway to find Mr Bingley, dressed for his daily excursion.
She smiled and informed him without prompting that Jane’s illness was progressing as expected and that she bore it stoically. Mr Bingley replied that he was grateful for the information, and then he hesitated, seemed to consider something, and at last fixed her with a look that was equal parts determined and abashed.
“I wonder, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, producing a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, “if you would be so good as to give this to Miss Bennet, if you do not think it too improper. As you see, it is not sealed, and I wish you would read it so that you may know there is nothing unseemly within.”
She was surprised, indeed, as much by his boldness as by the somewhat improper suggestion. But he was their host, they resided in his home, and there was nothing of secrecy in his application. She accepted the page and opened it.
