I pushed the door open and nearly gasped. Charlotte, usually so robust and cheerful, reclined on her bed, her nightgown rumpled and her face unnaturally pale. The sunlight filtering through the windows cast a warm glow on her, but it couldn't mask the weary shadows beneath her eyes.
"Charlotte?" I moved to her bedside and brushed her forehead. “Are you ill? Was it something you ate last night?”
She managed a feeble smile, her hand gesturing for me to sit beside her. "I am just... not feeling well, Lizzy."
I sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand into mine, feeling the coolness of her skin. "You are more than 'not well,' Charlotte. You look... positively ill."
Charlotte sighed, her eyes drifting towards the window. "I've not been strong for some time now. I've tried to hide it, but I fear after last night, it's caught up with me."
“Some time now?” I repeated. “Why did you not say anything?”
She shrugged weakly. "What would it have done but worry my family? Besides, I did see Mr. Jones."
"And?"
Her eyes met mine, and there was a depth of sadness there that I'd never seen before. "He was concerned. Very concerned."
"Charlotte, no..." My voice was barely above a whisper.
"Headaches, stomachaches, dizziness," she listed off, her voice oddly detached. "I often feel as though I can't catch my breath. And there are some other things I’d… rather not mention."
“But you'll get better,” I insisted. “Surely, you only want rest. You must take care to eat properly and not overtax yourself.”
She shook her head and looked away. "It’s more than that. Mr. Jones thinks I have a wasting disease, Lizzy. There’s nothing he can do."
The world seemed to tilt beneath me, and blood pounded in my ears. "No,” I whispered. “That can't be right."
Charlotte rested a hand on my arm. "I'm not afraid, Lizzy. Well, perhaps a little. It's not as if I had grand prospects awaiting me."
I couldn’t hold back the tears. "Charlotte!"
“I know it’s hard, Lizzy. I didn’t want to say anything. Please don’t tell Mama!”
“But she ought to know! And Jane and Maria… they should all know.”
“Oh, yes, do tell Jane. She could keep it to herself, but please, don’t tell my family. They don’t need that sort of burden.” She sighed, her eyes wistful. "Truly, Lizzy, it will be all right. I did wish for a bit of romance, though. Just a taste."
My throat tightened. "Charlotte, you deserve so much more than just a 'taste'."
She chuckled. “I always said I did not care about such a thing, but after watching Jane with Mr. Bingley, I think it would be very fine indeed just to sample a little. That would be enough for me.”
I shook my head. “No, it isn’t. It’s not right, Charlotte.”
She thinned her lips and sighed. “Well, I suppose it’s not up to us to decide that, is it? Now, why did you rush over here so early the morning after a ball? Don’t tell me Mr. Darcy presented himself on your doorstep this morning with an offer of marriage.”
I sniffed and blubbered a laugh, then wiped my nose. “Mr. Collins, actually.”
“And what did you say?”
I scoffed. “Well… I refused him! What else could I do?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I suppose that is a matter of opinion.”
“And I made mine known.” I laced my hand in hers. “What can I do foryou, Charlotte? Shall I bring a book up and read to you?”
She smiled and shook her head on the pillow. “I will be well enough later, Lizzy. These bad spells come and go. I just need a little rest, and I will be downstairs by the time Mama begins to look for me. Go on—I am sure your mother is searching for you, too.”
I huffed and shook my head. “That is precisely why I came here. Are you sure you will be well?”
