The lady complained of a painful sensation in the chest, and fears for the strength of her heart.
“Miss Bennet, do you need the apothecary surgeon?” The shopboy had stopped by her side. “The apprentice can do nothing on his own.”
In her haste to hide her bad manners, she clutched the final sheet behind her skirt. “No, there is nothing that cannot wait. I shall return another day.”
Elizabeth left the shop quickly, the last page of Mr Jones’s letter still in her hand.Prying and thievery. My father would be ashamed of me.Actually, he would have laughed at her for her foolishness and teased her about it for years to come. She sighed and hid the sheet in her reticule.
It was not until she was alone in her room after dinner that she had the opportunity to read Mr Jones’s opinion on her heart.
The lady complained of a painful sensation in the chest, and fears for the strength of her heart. I suspect the pain is caused by occluded coronary arteries and is triggered by exercise and emotional exertion. Many are seized by it whilst walking, and with most, when they stand still, all this uneasiness vanishes. As such is not the case with this patient, and since her heart pains have continued for more than a year, it is likely the disease will go to its height until the patient will suddenly fall down in great agony, and perish. Any small excitement or exertion ought to be avoided, but there is no remedy that could lead to a recovery in so advanced a case. I suspect she will not live past Michaelmas.
Elizabeth covered her mouth to stifle her sobs.I had not been up to the expectation of such a diagnosis as this!
She could die at any moment in a fit of dreadful pain. Her mother would fuss and alarm when Elizabeth told her the sad truth, but she could do nothing to ease her. Mary would quote proverbs on death, and Jane had too many duties at home with her boys to attend to her. Kitty was married and gone, and the Gardiners were in Canada. Lydia and Charlotte would not sympathise to any lasting degree, as frivolity on one side and rationality on the other would prevent it. Mr Collins would be glad to not have to pay for her upkeep any longer.
I will die, and my death will be neither instant nor painless, and nothing can be done.
She would never enjoy independence, or experience those great emotions of life, or love in all its forms. Her days would be empty until she cried too hard, danced too long, walked too far, felt too much, and died. All she could do between now and then was please those who maintained her, with little to occupy her save for her scarcely tolerated visits with Georgiana Darcy.
Georgiana does not pity herself, and she has lost more than I in her short life.
Elizabeth used her sleeve to dry her eyes, although she still took heaving breaths and tears still fell. Who would cry for Georgiana whenshe died? Her brother would not cry, although he would mourn. She suspected Mr Darcy had been watching his sister for so long that he would not be able, or willing, to notice the transition from ill to dying when the time came. He took great care of her with medicines and he protected her reputation, but that was not enough. Georgiana needed someone to be by her side, someone who knew her secrets and loved her, a friend to comfort her.
How could she help Georgiana and be her friend once her family knew of her diagnosis?They will isolate me more, and then I shall have nothing to live for.
Elizabeth would be forced to spend her days at rest, although Mr Jones’s letter made it plain that would not matter. She would have even less freedom than she had now. Ultimately, her heart would fail, and it would fail soon.
I shall not tell them.
It was a kindness to those who loved her not to know she could perish at any time. After watching her father be seized by heart pain and seeing to what end that came to, it would be a trial for any mother to watch even her least favourite daughter suffer the same. Her mother, Jane, Charlotte, and the others would only be distressed by the letter.
Her tears stopped, and Elizabeth grew calm. It was the way she could have peace in her final months, such as any peace or tranquillity could be had at Longbourn. She had so little say over the course of her own life, but the knowledge of her fatal disease would be hers alone to manage.
The Longbourn family would still prohibit her visits with Georgiana if they ever learnt about her seduction and child. How awful and alone would Georgiana feel if her only friend was forbidden to see her? What would the effect be on Georgiana’s health? Who would love her and care for her if the Collinses and her mother forbade her from calling at Netherfield’s lodge?
That is what I want to do with the time I have left: I want to care for Georgiana Darcy.
But as a dependent spinster maintained by Longbourn House, she could at any time be prohibited from holding Georgiana’s handwhenever she needed it, night or day. It was brutally unfair. How could she have any power over the rest of her short life, let alone be free to come and go from Netherfield’s lodge? She thought of one way, but was she out of her senses to consider such an implausible option?
No one could comfort her about her own impending death, but there was a way to have some freedom before she died and always be available to Georgiana. It was an awful prospect and a doubtful one, but if it could ever be brought about—once she gained the courage to pursue it—it was a means to a worthy end.
I am going to die soon, anyway.
Darcy was onlyin the parlour with the ladies because Miss Bennet had promised him some music, but she was still entertaining his sister with her conversation, and she looked so happy that Darcy was content to wait and read his letters.
“I cannot tire you, I am sure, on this subject, or I would apologise!”
Georgiana laughed in reply, and did not appear wearied at all. She had, in fact, spent an hour in the garden with Miss Bennet weeding the strawberries, and was now reclining on the sofa happily listening to her friend chatter away. Miss Bennet’s visits throughout April had become a part of their common daily routine, and he was forced to admit it was an agreeable change.
Georgiana was more cheerful than she had been in months, and Darcy knew to whom he was indebted.Miss Bennet is good-natured, and with the most lively, intelligent dark eyes I have ever seen.In this place, as he was, it was not a trial to be on equal terms with a poor, undistinguished woman with connexions to trade.
“Fitzwilliam?” He started and tore his eyes from his sister’s friend to look at Georgiana. “Is that from L—is that letter from Aunt Cathy?”
No one claiming to have no connexions and living on a few hundred a year was likely to be a near relation to Lady Catherine de Bourgh. A titled connexion would raise questions. “Yes, but it is the same as the last: full of unsolicited advice.”
“Does she mention my cousin Anne?”
Darcy shifted his weight in his seat. “Only in the usual way.”
