The next fortnight passed with a great deal of rain. While the Lucases and Bennets were constantly in each other's homes, organising what was likely to be the most detailed wedding ever, both matrons were most put out that they were not able to boast more regularly to the neighbourhood about their good fortune in connecting their families. The rain also ensured that Lady Lucas and Mrs. Bennet were entirely engrossed in planning the wedding together, often forgetting to ask the bride and groom their opinions. Neither the bride nor the groom much cared, for Charlotte would have been happy with no wedding breakfast at all, so long as she was wed to James. James, much more the romantic than Charlotte, did wish to present her at the wedding breakfast to all those they cared for, but did not care much for the color of the table linens or what exotic fruits would be served. His only concern was that his mother did not exceed the budget he had given her, which she decried as far too little.
When finally they had a day of sunshine, Mary declared herself desirous of seeing Miss Darcy, for she had not seen her friend since the party at Lucas Lodge. Elizabeth declared that she would ride with her sister as far as Meryton, for Elizabeth wished to stop in at the dressmaker and look through the newest sketches. She had yet to decide upon what she wished her new gown for James' wedding to look like.
After she had decided on the style, she decided to look through the fabrics that the dressmaker had available in a great enough length for the design. As she was admiring a blue muslin, the dressmaker was called away by the entrance of another party. It was little surprise when the party turned out to be none other than four of the Lucases- Lady Lucas, Charlotte, John, and Maria. Charlotte was hurried off to the back rooms with her mother, so she could be measured for her wedding clothes, while Maria was tasked with looking through the sketches and seeing what might suit Charlotte. Maria was much more fashionable than her sister, who had not understood entirely why she needed new gowns at all. It was not as if she were a seventeen-year-old girl who still wore only the palest of pastels. She had given those up before she turned five and twenty.
"That colour will look very well on you," said John, coming to stand next to Elizabeth as she looked through the fabric.
"I thank you, sir. I have not decided if I wish to wear the blue or the green," she replied.
"Green would match your eyes," said John, his voice catching just slightly as he spoke.
"It would," said Elizabeth, choosing to ignore the emotion in John's voice as she did not know how to respond to it. She supposed she was grateful that he had decided to make an effort to lessen the awkwardness between them, now that they were to be relations.
An awkward silence fell between the two, until John awkwardly bowed and went to sit beside his younger sister. Elizabeth selected the green fabric. She took a seat on Maria's opposite side and pointed out gowns that she thought would look well on Charlotte, on Maria, or one of Elizabeth's sisters. By the time the modiste returned, the three had selected nearly a dozen dresses for Charlotte, one for Maria, and had several ideas of what might look well on Mary. Elizabeth was measured for her gown, then left with a curtsey to her friend and the rest of the Lucases.
Just an hour after Elizabeth returned home, the heavens again decided to open up. Elizabeth sighed, for she was sick of the rain and its curtailment of her walks. A note arrived shortly from Netherfield, telling the family that Mary had been invited by Miss Darcy and Miss Bingley to stay for the night. Mrs. Bennet was thrilled, for she was certain that one or other of the men was certain to fall in love with her second daughter given enough time in her company.
"But Mama," said Elizabeth, "James is dining with the officers, and I am certain that I heard that the gentlemen of the Netherfield party were to go as well."
Her mother dismissed this, saying that they would certainly see each other the next day. Elizabeth did not see how this was any different from every other day that Mary spent with Miss Darcy, but did not say so.
However, the next morning, breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth:
"My dear Lizzy, —
"I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones—therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me. I am not exceedingly ill, only a headache and sore throat, so do not worry yourself about me.
Yours, etc.
Mary"
Mrs. Bennet immediately began to speak again of the men falling in love with Mary, and Mr. Bennet judged that no such thing was likely to occur. Further, he supposed how if their daughter was to die of a dangerous fit of illness, Mrs. Bennet might be comforted that three rich gentlemen had spent a few hours longer in her company.
"Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the carriage."
Elizabeth was quite anxious for her sister and was determined to go to her. The carriage was not to be had, for most of the horses were needed in the fields. Only the ladies' mares were left in the stables, and so Elizabeth was determined to ride. James, feeling all the anxiety that an older brother might be supposed to under such circumstances, decided he would do likewise, taking Kitty's mare as his horses were all in use.
"You will not be fit to be seen!" cried Mrs. Bennet.
"We will be fit to be seen by Mary," said Elizabeth, "which is all I care about."
"Will you not have Sarah fetch you a spare gown and petticoats, Lizzy?" asked James, "Then Mama might not be so very anxious if you might refresh yourself upon our arrival."Elizabeth agreed and spare clothes were sought for all three Bennets that were to be at Netherfield.
When they arrived, they were shown first up to rooms where they might change their clothing before going to greet their hosts in the breakfast parlour. All were present except Mary, Miss Darcy, and Mrs. Annesley. It was amazing to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst that the Bennets had both come, riding three or four or five miles in such muddy weather, and Elizabeth was certain that they held her in contempt for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their brother's and Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners there was something better than politeness; there was good humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying both she and her brother coming so far. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast.
Their inquiries after their sister were not very favourably answered. Miss Mary had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately; and Mary, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience from expressing in her note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal to much coverssation, but could not help but to tell Elizabeth and James of the extraordinary kindness she had been treated with.
"She sat with me late into the night; Mrs. Annesley that is," said Mary.
"That was very kind of her," said Elizabeth.
"Miss Darcy wished to remain but was ordered to bed. She has been with me since dawn while her companion sleeps."
"I am sure they are both all goodness and charity, Mary," said Elizabeth, "but you must not tire yourself with conversation. Drink the tea that Miss Darcy had sent up and rest."
"It is vile," complained Mary as Elizabeth and James helped her to drink.
"You must drink it," said James, "I know it is bitter, but it will help with the fever."
Mary gave in, drinking nearly the entire cup of tea before laying down to rest. James went down to the others while Elizabeth silently attended her sister.
When breakfast was over, they were joined by the sisters and Miss Darcy; and Elizabeth began to like Mr. Bingley's sisters herself, when she saw how much affection and solicitude they showed for Mary. The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it; advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased despite the tea, and her head ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment. Miss Darcy was rarely absent, but as the gentlemen were present, the other ladies were only rarely present.
James, having business elsewhere and feeling all the awkwardness of being a guest at the house of one who had been a rival for his betrothed's affections, quit Netherfield in the afternoon. Elizabeth felt she should go also, and said so reluctantly.
"Oh, but you must not go," said Miss Darcy, when Miss Bingley was on the verge of offering the carriage to Elizabeth.
"Indeed, I would like it if you might stay," said Mary weakly.
"Oh yes. It is always better to be tended by ones own family," said Miss Darcy.
Miss Bingley wished herself rid of Miss Eliza Bennet but could not say so - particularly in front of the girl she hoped to someday call sister. Therefore, Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a greater supply of clothes.
Rosings Park, near Westerham, Kent
Ninth of November
My dear Cousin Fitz,
I fail to see what is so much the matter with Miss E that you feel yourself completely out of danger concerning her. She may have relations in trade and only seven thousand pounds, but I cannot think you could find a better sister for GG than one whom she already confides in. More than that, GG would gain four sisters and another brother, which I would think exceedingly useful when she comes out. If she is as charming as you say, which such fine manners and good humour, then I think you would do well with her for a wife. As for fortune, I know you are perfectly indifferent to it. As to her relations in trade, I cannot give my opinion without knowing more of these relations. You know I am not against tradesmen or their relations, else I would never have considered Mr. B.
Speaking of Mr. B, he is well. He is healing and is out of danger of infection when last he wrote. His ship shall return to England sometime soon, but I have heard no news as to a specific date of arrival. He tells me that we should marry, even if I am not strong enough to be a real wife to him, for then I might take up my place. I do not know, for I know he must wish for heirs and what if I do not recover as Mrs. J predicts. I would feel perfectly dreadful to have leg-shackled him and to know he would come to resent such a thing without a true marriage.
I thought of another point concerning your Miss E. You say that she has three sisters and a brother, so you know she could very likely provide plenty of heirs for Pemberley. I think you must consider your happiness and stop considering only what your uncles and aunts will think. You should ignore what the ton would think all together. I know you, Fitzwilliam Darcy. You would not be happy with the ton misses. You would be miserable and you would make them miserable. If you are determined to give her up, then you must look for someone lively and kind, as you say she is, when you go to look for your wife. I shall not have a Miss Bingley as a cousin.
Mother and I are well. Mother sends her greetings as does Mrs. J. By the bye, Mrs. J and I shall be going on a day trip to the Downs. Mother does not know, for she shall be away that day. I am all anticipation. I know you have been. I shall have to tell you my thoughts when next I write.
Yours, etc.
Anne