The conversation was interrupted when the butler came in to announce dinner. Once everyone had proceeded to the dining room and took their places at the table, Mrs. Hurst repeated her question.
Elizabeth bit her lip and looked at her father, uncertain as to how much information she should share.
Mr. Bennet shook his head. “I’m afraid it isn’t quite as simple as that.”
“What?” Bingley cried out. “What do you mean?”
Mr. Bennet sighed. “Jane was born with a weak heart, as well as a few other frailties. It has made her the wonderful creature that she is, both beautiful and kind, but I’m afraid those differences will end up fatal for her.”
Everyone in the room gasped save Darcy, whose face was cold and grave.
“Fatal?” Bingley asked in a whisper.
“I’m afraid so. Her heart was on the decline before this, but catching this chill has hastened her deterioration. Mr. Jones fears she may not recover. Even if she does recover this time, she may only have a year or so left to live, if that.”
“She’s been on borrowed time for quite a while now,” Elizabeth added in a whisper.
The room fell silent. Even the indolent Hurst had put down his brandy and was watching the conversation with uncustomary attention.
“No!” Bingley declared, coming to his feet, his fork clattering onto the table. “There must be some mistake. Please, Mr. Bennet, allow me to send for a doctor in town—”
“One has already been sent for,” Darcy said.
Everyone turned to stare at him in surprise. His features tightened, but his eyes met Elizabeth’s with a steady gaze.
“I thank you, Mr. Darcy, but there is no need,” Mr. Bennet said slowly, looking back and forth between his daughter and the tall young man.
“No need?” shrieked Miss Bingley. “Surely you cannot believe that your apothecary is more knowledgeable than a London doctor?”
“As a matter of fact, young lady—” Mr. Bennet said, but he was cut off by his daughter.
“What my father means to say, Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy, is that wehavehad a doctor from Town come before. His opinion was… well, let’s just say that his suggestions of abandoning Jane to a workhouse or an asylum were less than welcome.”
Bingley’s face darkened as he lowered himself back into his seat. “Who would dare suggest such a monstrous thing?”
Clearing his throat, Darcy said uncomfortably, “Unfortunately, there are many who still cling to the old beliefs that those who are born disfigured or blemished are a punishment from God and should be kept away from good society.”
“That is not all that unusual to hear from those who are too low in rank to provide for their families,” Miss Bennet added, her nose in the air. “Especially when finances are scarce.” She proceeded to sneer down her nose at Mr. Bennet.
“Well, it is simply not an option for us,” Mr. Bennet said firmly. “So while I appreciate your rather extraordinary kindness, Mr. Darcy, I’m afraid your physician is wasting his time coming all this way. Perhaps another message might be sent before he leaves, or at least before he travels too far.”
“I can assure you that this physician does not embody any of those beliefs. He is my family physician, and I know of at least one patient he treats with issues such as Miss Bennet’s. Not once has he expressed the necessity of placing a person elsewhere if the family is able to care for them.”
“Mr. Darcy would only choose the best of doctors,” Miss Bingley added. “It is so kind of you, sir, to go to such lengths for people we are not well acquainted with.”
“Then it seems I have no choice but to thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet said.
That led to a soliloquy in which Miss Bingley effusively extolled the generous nature of the Darcy family and how well thought of they were in Town and amongst the first circles. Darcy sat uncomfortably silent at the praise that monopolized the remainder of the dinner conversation.
Elizabeth ate her food mechanically, the rich dishes tasteless. Instead, she surreptitiously inspected Darcy from the other end of the table, trying to make out the reason he would send for help for Jane when he had spoken so harshly of her at the Meryton assembly.
Eventually, Miss Bingley signaled an end to the meal, and Elizabeth stood to go with the two ladies and leave the gentlemen to their port and cigars. Mr. Bennet, who greatly enjoyed both—but only in the solitude of his bookroom—attempted to excuse himself to help Elizabeth to the drawing room.
His excuses were gainsaid, however, when Bingley began to pepper the elder man with questions about Jane and her life. Elizabeth gave her father a sympathetic smile just before the door closed behind her. A footman gave her a kind smile and offered his arm.
Once they were settled in the drawing room, it was clear that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were also eager to learn more about their “dear Jane” and the Bennet family.
“I understand you have family in London. Which part of town do they live in?”
