Page 16 of Infamous Relations

“Well, it is yet one more thing that I shall have to thank Mr. Darcy for, I suppose.” She thanked the coach driver and footmen prettily too, and by that time the parsonage door had opened and Mr. Collins was hurrying down the path, holding a lantern high.

“What is it? What calamity? Is Lady Catherine taken ill?” He stopped at the sight of Jane. “Miss Bennet! What are you doing here?”

“I am here to attend my sister, Mr. Collins; I am sorry to trespass upon your hospitality without notice,” Jane said, dipping him a small curtsy, and then, since he did not seem inclined to escort her inside, she stepped around him and walked determinedly towards the door.

Chapter Twelve

“Jane, thank God you are come!”

Jane’s eyes welled with tears as she saw Charlotte hurrying down the stairs; she put her arms around her friend and hugged her tight.

“Tell me quickly, how is Lizzy?” she begged desperately. “I came as fast as I could!”

“I did not dare to hope that you should be here so soon, Jane, it is truly wonderful,” Charlotte squeezed her hand. “Lizzy is a little better. The doctor just left a few minutes ago, he has been marvellous, but he was up all last night birthing Mrs. Gorman’s new babe and had no sleep, I made him go home to eat and rest…”

Jane did not care, she only wanted to get to her Lizzy. Almost tearing her bonnet ribbons in her haste to remove it, she dragged it from her head and rushed after Charlotte, disregarding Mr. Collins’ petulant voice downstairs remarking about late-arriving guests being a sign of great ill-breeding.

“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane whispered when finally she came into her sister’s presence. Elizabeth looked so pale, so small and frail. Sinking to sit on the bed beside her, Jane seized Elizabeth’s hands in hers, chafed them gently. “I am here now, Lizzy. Your Jane is here. I will not leave you, day or night, until you are well again; I want only to nurse you with the loving devotion you showed me at Netherfield.”

Tears trickling down her cheeks, she kissed Elizabeth’s hands, reached to caress her cheek. “She does not wake, Charlotte?”

“She has roused, but she did not seem to know me; her eyes did not see me. The doctor said that she has done very well to rouse so quickly at all, and he hopes that she will do better tomorrow.”

Jane reached carefully to lift the cloth – the very cold cloth, she found – on Elizabeth’s brow, sucked in a sharply horrified breath at the colour and size of the contusion beneath it. “Lizzy, oh dear Lord.” She firmed her lips, wiped away the tears on her cheeks. “You have been icing this, Charlotte? Do you have any fresh ice?”

“Maria has just gone down to get some,” Charlotte nodded, and at that moment Maria scratched at the door.

Soon they had a fresh ice-pack prepared; Charlotte sent Maria to her room for a while and went to get fresh tea.

“Thank you, Charlotte,” Jane said softly as Charlotte handed her a cup. “I do not know what we should do without your kindness.”

Charlotte only shook her head, wondering if she should tell Jane the truth. It was an unbearable burden for her to carry alone, and one person in Elizabeth’s family should surely know. Charlotte did not think she could quite bear to speak to Mr. Bennet of it, and any of the other Bennet ladies were quite out of the question, even if they were here.

Jane, though, would never tell the secret, would never judge Elizabeth. And while most people thought Jane Bennet soft and weak, Charlotte knew the strength of the other woman’s character. Taking a deep breath, Charlotte said softly, “Jane, there is something I must tell you.”

Poor Jane, who until that moment had not suspected that such wickedness existed in the world! She listened with an incredulous expression, with mounting disbelief, to Charlotte’s account. Until as she finished speaking, Charlotte stood, drew back the blanket covering Elizabeth, and gently unlaced the neck of her nightgown to show the bruises and scrapes upon her bosom.

Charlotte had expected more tears, had expected anguish. She hadn’t expected Jane’s exquisite face to grow as still and cold as though she had been carved from finest marble.

“Who would dare touch my sister so?” Jane snapped, enraged. “She is by no means unprotected – my father and uncle will see that whoever has done this suffers to the end of his days!” She retied Elizabeth’s nightgown with fingers that shook with rage, covered her sister gently. “We will find the miscreant who has done this foul deed,” she said, her voice ringing with righteous rage. “And we will make him pay.”

Mr. Collins, preparing for bed in his own room nearby, heard Jane’s raised voice, her angry vow, and began to tremble. Crawling under the bedcovers, he closed his eyes tight, but sleep did not come to him that night.

Jane ground her teeth, slowly stilling her rage. In all her life, she had never been one fraction so angry as she felt in that moment. If she could only lay her hands on the fiend who had so injured her Lizzy, she thought that she might have torn him limb from limb her own self!

Charlotte spoke to her, asking how she came to arrive so fast, and Jane managed to gather her wits enough to respond tolerably, explaining how she had caught the post and fortuitously met with Mr. Darcy at Sevenoaks.

“Mr. Darcy was at Sevenoaks?” Charlotte asked in confusion.

“Indeed, which seems odd indeed. He said that he should call here tomorrow morning? But has he not been staying with his aunt? In her last letter Lizzy wrote that you had all dined at Rosings Park with Mr. Darcy and his cousin, a Colonel something or other…”

“Colonel Fitzwilliam, indeed,” puzzled, Charlotte shook her head. “Well, I daresay that shall be explained tomorrow.” Looking at Elizabeth, resting quietly just now, she reached out and touched Jane’s hand. “Come, we must pass the time somehow. Will you not tell me of what you have been doing in London?”

They talked until very late, until Charlotte’s eyes grew heavy and she struggled to stay awake. Jane reached out and grasped her shoulder lightly.

“Please, Charlotte, go and get some rest,” Jane roused her friend gently. “I will stay with Lizzy.”

Weary, but unutterably glad to no longer be bearing the burden of her secret alone, Charlotte stood and hugged Jane. “Bolt the door behind me, dear Jane,” she murmured quietly before taking her leave.