“Miss Lizzy, what on earth?”
Hill’s strident tones caused Elizabeth to smile as she pulled off her boots and looked at the soles of her feet with a wince. While the cuts had not reopened, they were definitely red and painful.
“I needed to speak with Papa, Hill. It couldn’t wait, and Mr. Bingley’s carriage wasn’t available.”
Mrs. Hill’s stern expression softened as she knelt to examine Elizabeth’s injured feet. “You should have sent a note with Jamie, at the very least, and your father could have sent the Longbourn carriage for you.”
“Not if Mama had anything to say about it.”
Hill pursed her lips but chose to ignore the protest. “Now, let me tend to your feet, and I will see to it that you are more comfortable. It would not do for your father to see you in such a state.”
Elizabeth allowed the woman with the shared duties of a housekeeper and lady’s maid to bathe her feet and dress them with ointment and fresh bandages. Sally, the young scullery maid, was sent to fetch a pair of Elizabeth’s house slippers, which were placed on her tender feet.
Feeling refreshed, Elizabeth gingerly made her way to her father’s bookroom, knowing that he would be ensconced inside, taking refuge from the female chatter that was echoing from the drawing room throughout the entire house.
“Come in, Lizzy,” was his reply to her particular set of raps on the door.
She took a deep breath and entered the room, bracing herself for the conversation to follow.
∞∞∞
Half an hour later, Elizabeth finished her recounting of the conversation Mrs. Hurst had broached with her the night before. “I told her I wished to speak with you, Papa, before saying anything.”
Mr. Bennet sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, fingers massaging his temples. “What do you think, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth chose her words carefully. “I believe that Jane’s affections for Mr. Bingley are sincere, and he clearly cares for her as well…” Her voice trailed off.
“But…?” he prompted after several moments of silence.
“It is all just so complicated!” she cried, throwing her arms up in the air in exasperation. “There are too many unknowns.”
“Such as?”
“What if she wants to marry him? Would she make herself more ill, trying to take on the duties of a mistress? He says that he would not expect her to perform wifely duties”—Elizabeth turned quite red at this, but forged on— “but how can we trust that he will keep his word? Once they are married, she would be entirely in his power, and we would be helpless to protect her. We know nothing of his character.”
Mr. Bennet adjusted his position in his chair and cleared his throat. “That is a valid point. We may be able to ask Mr. Phillips if something can be written into the marriage articles. Perhaps, if you are willing, we could write that you are provided a home in the same residence as Jane for as long as she lives.”
“Would that even be legal?”
He pursed his lips. “That would be for my brother Phillips to discover. We may not be able to prevent him from doing what he wishes, but another idea is that we could impose a financialpenalty for certain things. A child, for example, could be left an extremely large legacy to be paid out.”
“That still wouldn’t keep Jane safe.”
“Being here at Longbourn won’t keep Jane safe either, my dear. Either way, she will still die.” Mr. Bennet’s voice broke on the last word.
Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. “At least here she would certainly be surrounded by people who loved her and would not mistreat her!”
“Mistreatment can take many forms. What would Jane’s life be like here at Longbourn?”
“I would be here,” Elizabeth replied fiercely.
“Could you tend her day and night? We would not be able to afford private nurses as Mr. Bingley could. Nor a personal physician from London. Are you willing to change her soiled bed linens when she becomes too ill to use a chamber pot? Our maids will not be able to do that and their own duties.”
“What about her dowry? Did you not tell me that you had set aside ten thousand pounds for her dowry or maintenance?”
“Elizabeth, do you have any idea how much it would cost to pay a private doctor?”
She shook her head, and he replied, “A country physician makes about three hundred pounds per annum; a doctor in town can easily make ten times that amount. When you add in the cost of extra nurses and maids, as well as medications, it is very likely we would run out of funds before she runs out of heartbeats.”
