Not quite at the assembly yet, but getting close... *duh duh duh*
Chapter 5
Elizabeth looked down at her ill-fitting gown and tried to smooth out the creases.
"You look lovely, Lizzy," Jane said kindly.
"I look as though I were a street urchin," Elizabeth said with a laugh. "Thankfully, our friends and neighbors know not to judge me for my dress."
Jane nodded in agreement, then excused herself to help Lydia with the last of the preparations for the local assembly. While Elizabeth waited for her family, she stared into the fire as she reflected on the extraordinary amount of changes that had occurred over the last fortnight.
After leaving their Aunt Phillip in Meryton, Elizabeth spent the walk home contemplating her aunt's situation. When she arrived at home, she went upstairs with Lydia to check on their mother. "She hasn't moved at all," Jane whispered.
"Let me sit with her," Lydia said. "You go rest, Jane."
Jane opened her mouth to protest, but Lydia laughingly gave her sister a shove. "Go! I have plenty of gossip from my aunt to share with my mother."
Finally acquiescing, Jane gratefully went to her bedroom to lie down on her bed for a while. Elizabeth listened at the door while Lydia regaled their mother with news from Meryton. Unfortunately, Mrs. Bennet did not respond to her youngest and liveliest daughter, either.
It wasn't until the following day that Mrs. Bennet finally began to demonstrate some sign of life. Mrs. Phillip came to call on her sister, and she would not be denied access. She pushed her way passed the poor maid that opened the door, leaving the girl to stand agape in the open space.
"Close the door," Hill hissed, bustling quickly up the stairs behind a determined Mrs. Phillips. Without pausing to knock, Mrs. Phillips threw open the door to her sister's bedchamber. A startled Jane dropped the book she was holding, but Mrs. Bennet did not even flinch at the noise.
"Fanny? Fanny!" Mrs. Phillips spoke sharply to her younger sister. When there was no response, she marched across the room, took her sister by the shoulders, and began to shake her. Mrs. Bennet's head flopped limply back and forth.
"Aunt!" exclaimed a horrified Elizabeth, who had come out of her room to discover the source of the commotion.
Ignoring her niece, Mrs. Phillips raised her hand and slapped Mrs. Bennet across the face twice; first on the right cheek, than on the left.
Jane let out a cry of dismay, and Elizabeth raced down the stairs. "Papa!" she cried, flinging the door open to her father's study.
Mr. Bennet looked up in astonishment. "Lizzy, what on earth?"
"You must come immediately, Papa! Aunt Phillips is hitting Mama."
With a swiftness that belied his years, Mr. Bennet stood from his chair, knocking it to the ground. He took the stairs two at a time, with Elizabeth close on his heels.
Mr. Bennet stopped so suddenly at the door to his wife's room that Elizabeth crashed into his back. "Papa?" she asked, but her father quickly hushed her.
Elizabeth stared into the room with disbelief. Mrs. Phillips sat on her sister's bed, holding a sobbing Mrs. Bennet. Jane stood next to them, both hands covering her mouth.
"My daughter is dead, Lucy. It is all my fault. How can I bear it?"
Elizabeth gasped, and Mr. Bennet opened his mouth to object.
"It is most certainly not your fault!" Mrs. Phillips said vehemently. "There is nothing more you could have done to save her."
"If only I had taken better care of her. I neglected myself when I was pregnant, and I allowed her to play in the rain and catch croup as a child. Every winter she got worse, and what did I do? Chastise her for coughing and irritating my nerves! I would give anything to hear her cough again!"
"I know, Fanny, I know. No one blames you."
"They should!" cried Mrs. Bennet in despair.
"No, we shouldn't," Mr. Bennet interjected firmly.
Mrs. Bennet looked up and blinked her eyes at her husband. Tears filled his own as she focused on him for the first time in weeks.
"My dear Fanny," he said tenderly, crossing the room to pick up her hand, "I do not blame you for our daughter's death. A combination of poor weather and poor health is what took her. No amount of kindness or chastisement would have changed the situation in the slightest."
Mrs. Bennet's face crumbled, and she knelt on her bed and fell into her husband's arms. "Oh, Thomas," she sobbed. "Our darling girl is gone forever."
"Not gone forever," Mary said from the hall.
Elizabeth looked around in surprise. She had been so focused on her mother that she had not not Mary's and Lydia's approach behind her.
"Kitty is not gone forever," Mary repeated. "Kitty was baptized and believed; she is with God, as we all will be one day."
"But she is gone now, and I miss her," Mrs. Bennet wept, sitting back from her husband and retrieving another handkerchief from her bedside table.
"We all miss her, Fanny," Mrs. Phillips said, "but this is not the way to honor her life. Kitty was a cheerful, happy girl. She would be devastated to be the cause of such grief to her family."
"Indeed, Mama," Lydia said fervently. "Kitty would probably make a joke about being the first to die and therefore going before all her sisters."
Mrs. Bennet let out a watery giggle. "That does sound like something she would say."
"I think Kitty would want us to continue on in her memory. Do things to make others happy the way she would, in her honor," Jane said.
The others all murmured their agreement. After a moment of silence, Mrs. Phillips said, "Now then, Fanny, we must get you washed and dressed."
Mrs. Bennet looked down at herself and gasped in dismay. "My heavens, I look terrible!"
She attempted to stand and move towards the washbasin, but only made it two steps before almost collapsing. Mr. Bennet, who was still near her bedside, caught her quickly.
"I think, my dear, that your convalescence has done you no favors," he said. "It may be some time before you regain enough strength to move about."
"Here, Sister, let me help you," Mrs. Phillips said, moving to Mrs. Bennet's side. "The rest of you, out!"
Obediently, the members of the Bennet family who were in the bedchamber filed out into the hallway where Lydia and Mary had been observing the scene. There were several moments of stillness before Mr. Bennet dryly remarked, "Well, Lizzy, it appears that your mother is not being beaten by your aunt."
"Oh, Papa," gasped Elizabeth. "When I saw Aunt Phillips strike Mama, I was certain she had run mad."
Mary and Lydia gasped, and Jane admitted, "I thought I might faint."
"Well, it seems your aunt had a better understanding of how to help your mother than the rest of us did," Mr. Bennet said with a sardonic smile. "I only wish we could keep here here permanently."
"Maybe we can," Elizabeth mused.
Mr. Bennet quirked an eyebrow at his daughter. "Now, Lizzy, I would have thought you above kidnapping, even if it is for someone you love."
Elizabeth laughed. "No, Papa, I think she would come willingly. When Lydia and I visited her the other day, she seemed terrified when we told her our concerns about the winter. She and Uncle Phillips do not have the funds to stay warm and fed if things become as desperate as we think they will."
"Go on," urged Mr. Bennet when Elizabeth hesitated.
"What if we were to ask Aunt and Uncle Phillips to move in with us for the winter? We were all going to share bedrooms anyway as a way to stay warm. If we give them Jane's room, which has the largest bed and is the warmest, then Jane can come in with me. Mary and Lydia can stay together in Mary's room, and we will not need to heat Lydia's room at all."
Mr. Bennet nodded thoughtfully. "It would be a benefit to both our families if the Mr. and Mrs. Phillips were to stay with us. Mrs. Phillips can do so on the pretext of helping your mother."
"Which she would be," interrupted Mary.
"Precisely, so there would be no deception," Mr. Bennet responded with a twinkle in his eye. "Very well, I will extend the invitation before she leaves. In the meantime, let us continue with our day while your aunt helps your mother."
Mr. Bennet went back down the stairs to his study, while the remaining girls went into Lydia's room.
"Even if they do not come stay with us, we will still want to share beds this winter," Elizabeth said. "Let's begin moving Lydia's things into Mary's room so we can close this room entirely."
The four girls began to work in silence. Lydia removed a bundle of ribbons from the top of the closet and began to laugh as she sorted through them.
"What's so funny?" Jane asked.
"I remember when Kitty bought this ribbon. It looked horrid on her, but she was determined to make it beautiful. The coloring suited me better, and when she insisted on wearing it to an assembly, I took it from her room and hid it so she wouldn't appear so sallow."
"I remember that," Elizabeth said, grinning. "She was furious with you, insisting you had stolen it. She searched your entire room; how did she not discover it?"
Lydia flushed. "I hid it in Mama's room until after the assembly. Kitty gave up and wore a bonnet that was much more becoming, and I retrieved it after she fell asleep that night."
"You sly thing!" laughed Elizabeth. "Now I shall know where to search for my things if they ever turn up missing before an assembly."
"If I ever take something of yours, it will be to save you from yourself," replied Lydia with a smirk.
Elizabeth threw a pillow at her unsuspecting sister, smacking her squarely in the face. The four girls dissolved into giggles, then Lydia put the ribbon on and looked at herself in the mirror.
"You should wear that to the next assembly you attend," Jane said softly.
"There is one next week," Lydia said.
"But we are still in mourning!" cried Mary.
"Kitty would want us to attend," Lydia replied stubbornly.
"She would," Elizabeth said slowly. "I think we should go."
"What?" Mary dropped a dress in dismay.
"I have a feeling that this will probably be one of the last assemblies for a long time. If the winter is truly going to be so bad, it may also be one of the last times we see some of our neighbors," Elizabeth said.
"How terrible," Jane whispered, her large blue eyes filling with tears.
"But we will have nothing to wear," Lydia said miserably. "All our mourning dresses are worn and plain."
"What if we each wore something of Kitty's and only stood up with each other?" Elizabeth suggested. "Kitty loved to dance with us. If we tell Charlotte and Sir William, I'm certain they can let the others in the community know not to ask us to dance."
"I think that is a beautiful idea," Mary said, her eyes shining.
"Really?" Lydia exclaimed, looking at her middle sister hopefully.
"I do," Mary said. "The principle behind mourning is demonstrate our sorrow for their loss. It is a reflection of our love for them. I think attending this assembly, wearing Kitty's favorite gowns and dancing her favorites with each other will demonstrate our love for her more clearly than sitting at home would do."
"What will the neighbors think?" Jane asked. "I should hate to be the subject of gossip and talk."
"That is what Sir William and Lady Lucas are for!" Elizabeth said triumphantly. "Once they finish telling our story to everyone the see, no one would dare cut us. We've all known each other our entire lives, after all. Who at the assembly would judge us?"
Jane hesitated, biting her lip.
"What if we ask Aunt Phillip what she thinks?" Elizabeth asked. "If she doesn't see a problem with it, and she is the biggest gossip we know, then I think we should be fine."
"We can also ask Lady Lucas for her thoughts," suggested Lydia.
"Very well," agreed Jane. "If the ladies do not see a problem with it, then I think all will be well."
To Jane's surprise, Aunt Phillips, Lady Lucas, and Mrs. Bennet were all in firm agreement that the idea was a wonderful one. Word spread throughout the community, and several of their friends spoke up in support of the idea. Even Mrs. Long took the time to approach them in the street one day and say how much she admired the girls for honoring their sister in such a way.
"I only wish I could honor my mother-in-law in such a way, but she quite hated dancing, you know."
The girls entered Kitty's room for the first time since her passing. It was an emotional time for all of them as they sorted through her things. Lydia picked up a discarded bonnet from the floor and wept over it. "I will never be able to yell at her for leaving her things in such a careless manner again."
The hours spent in Kitty's room, making adjustments to her gowns and adding black bombazine accents to the skirts turned out to be a time of great healing for the four remaining Bennet daughters. They shared anecdotes from Kitty's life, and they laughed and cried together.
Jane, Mary, and Lydia were quick to find their favorite gowns from Kitty's wardrobe. They had all inherited their mother's slender, willowy frame that was in style. Unfortunately for Elizabeth, she was the only one of her sisters to inherit her grandmother Bennet's curvy form. This meant that the only gown of Kitty's that could be altered to fit her frame was a color that quite clashed with her complexion and was several seasons out of date.
Jane attempted to convince Elizabeth that she looked beautiful no matter what, but her assertions were spoiled when Lydia wrinkled her nose and said, "It's hideous, Lizzy."
Elizabeth laughed. "I'll simply have to add more black to the top and frame my face with curls to offset the coloring. Besides, it is not as if there is anyone to impress at the assembly."
It was this dress that Elizabeth wore as she sat by the fireplace, waiting for her family to finish their preparations and leave for the assembly.
One by one, the Bennet family descended the stairs, follow by Mr. and Mrs. Phillips. The couple had quickly accepted Mr. Bennet's offer to reside with them for the winter. While there was definitely a period of adjustment, no one could deny that Mrs. Bennet had greatly improved under her sister's devoted attentions.
Last to descend were Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, dressed in their nightwear. "Have you decided not to come, Papa?" Elizabeth asked her father.
"No, I thought I might attend in my dressing gown," he responded with a wink.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Do not stay up too late reading," she warned, standing up from the chair and kissing him on the cheek.
"Not to worry, my dear. The port and fire will put me to sleep long before it can be considered 'too late' to fall asleep."
Mr. Phillips cleared his throat. "I will keep an eye on them, Bennet, and introduce them to the newcomers."
Elizabeth turned to her uncle in surprise. "What newcomers?"
"Honestly, Lizzy, where have you been?" cried Lydia. "Did you not hear Aunt Bennet telling us at dinner two nights ago that Netherfield Park has been let at last?"
Elizabeth blushed. While she was grateful that Aunt Phillips had been of such use to her mother, it meant that dinnertime had become quite tediously full of gossip. Elizabeth had taken to sneaking a book in to read surreptitiously at the dinner table under the pretense of frequently arranging her napkin and spilling food.
"I think it quite admirable of Lizzy to avoid gossip," sniffed Mary, but a twitch at the corner of her lips gave her teasing away.
Lydia rolled her eyes. "Well, there is no time to discuss it again now. It is time to leave! All you need to know is that Netherfield Park has been let by a single young man of large fortune."
"Yes, those are the most important details," Elizabeth said dryly.
"Oh dear," Mrs. Bennet said. "With that attitude, perhaps I should come to the assembly after all."
Lydia's eyes widened in horror. "But Mama!" she protested. "You are not dressed, and we must leave at once or we shall be late!"
"No, my dear, you must remain at home and rest," Mrs. Phillips said, taking her sister's hand and patting it. "I've asked Hill to fetch you some warm milk and biscuits."
Mrs. Bennet gave her sister a small smile. "Thank you, Lucy. Please take care of my dear girls."
"As if they were my own," Mrs. Phillips promised.
Lydia bounced impatiently from foot to foot as she waited for the conversation to end. At last, Mr. Phillips directed the family out to the waiting carriage.
Just before she walked out the door, Elizabeth stopped to look once more in the mirror. The gown, which had suited Kitty's delicate coloring perfectly, made Elizabeth's skin look quite pale and her eyes unusually large and dark.
She grimaced at her reflection. Until this moment, she had not worried about her looks in the dress, thinking she would only be seeing friends and neighbors who had known her for years. It was so rare that they had newcomers in their little village that she felt insecure at appearing less than her best for her first impression.
Never you mind, she scolded herself. If these new residents at Netherfield are shallow enough to judge me based on my looks alone, then they are not worth worrying about.
She squared her shoulders and walked to the carriage, head held high, forcing back the feeling of foreboding that seemed to come over her since she first heard about the party from Netherfield.
It can't be that bad, can it?