The door opened, and Jane felt a rising panic. To be in such a state! To impose in such a way! They couldn't even be considered dear friends yet; they were just new acquaintances desiring more information about the people surrounding their home. Jane was genuinely worried for the contents of her stomach. She took slow, small steps towards the parlor. The agony of this embarrassment was acute.
When shown into the room, both sisters stared at her, mouths agape. Mrs. Hurst glanced out the window, where the deluge was still very active. Miss Bingley stood up and rushed to Jane, reaching out her hands. Jane said the only thing she thought of.
"I'm so sorry; I got caught in the rain. I was so looking forward to seeing you both."
"You poor dear girl," Miss Bingley said, holding Jane's hands. Mrs. Hurst also came to Jane's side, exclaiming that she was soaked through.
"How unfortunate! Come next to the fire, and I will go fetch a dress for you to wear while your things dry," Miss Bingley said, leading Jane by the hand to the fire. Jane nearly melted into tears, a few escaping down her cheeks. As Miss Bingley swept from the room, Mrs. Hurst gave Jane a handkerchief.
"If we had known there would be a terrible storm, we would never have insisted you come," she said apologetically.
"I would have felt sad either way," Jane admitted. "I was so excited to spend time with you both, but the clouds opened much too fast."
"Yes," Mrs. Hurst admitted. "I suppose that is one benefit the city has over the country; the distance between friends is not quite so far." Jane smiled in agreement as Miss Bingley reappeared with a servant and some clothes.
"Here we are," she said. "Just follow Martha, and she'll help you change and put your clothes to dry. We'll have hot tea waiting for you when you return to us."
OOXXOOXoXXx
The planned luncheon actually recovered fantastically. The Bingley sisters were good-humored and intelligent, and there was an air of politeness surrounding them both. Jane was grateful they generally avoided the topic of her ride-over. She suspected they knew exactly what had happened and that her mother had orchestrated it, but it was only referenced once.
"Mrs. Bennet must have been quite excited when you received our note," Miss Bingley said.
"Yes, she was," Jane said, burning with embarrassment.
"I assume the whole neighborhood is excited Caroline," Mrs. Hurst said, "to have new additions, especially one as gregarious as Charles. Why, we've been invited to so many gatherings, you'd think we've been known here for years."
"It does seem you've been welcomed into our little flock," Jane said with a smile, amazed at Charles single-handedly improving the view of his party to the whole neighborhood. Invitations poured in for his whole party to attend every event. Even though most of his party was hated by the neighborhood,
"I don't know how he manages it," Miss Bingley casually said. "Without him, I don't believe we would attend half as many events."
"He's even planning on holding one himself. A ball, he says," Mrs. Hurst laughed, "with no date. I just hope he knows the planning that such a thing requires."
"I'm sure he's learned from watching the balls you both have planned," Jane said.
"That's true," Miss Bingley said ruefully. "I'm sure he remembers the fit I threw when he tried to hold a ball with a two-day notice." Jane laughed as Mrs. Hurst described how livid Miss Bingley really was.
Eventually the sun seemed to fall, though no one could see the torrential rain still pounding on the house.
"Well, Miss Bennet." Miss Bingley said with a resigned air, "Even if you were well, there could be no going home in this. I wouldn't be surprised if the men could not return." Jane did feel heated. She lifted her hands to her cheeks to find them very warm. Mrs. Hurst leaned over with a motherly air, placing the back of her hand on Jane's forehead.
"I anticipate you staying here for longer than just one night. Your face is so flushed, and it is such a rotten feeling to be sick. I hope, for your sake, that I'm wrong." Jane smiled weakly, feeling an ache in her back and an itch in her throat. She felt Mrs. Hurst's words were true, and she was glad for the preemptive, implied permission to stay here in the peaceful Netherfeild for the duration of her illness.
"I think you might be correct, Mrs. Hurst," Jane said shyly.
Thus, they all went up to bed.
OOXXOOXoXXx
Jane felt horrendous when she awoke. All her bones ached; it felt like her head was splitting behind her eyes; the light became unbearable; and when she coughed, it was a deep reverberation that made her throat raw. Evidently, a servant had seen the matter and gone to get the sisters.
Mrs. Hurst immediately came to check her forehead again, gasping when she did.
"Good lord, Miss Bennet! You're much worse than I anticipated! You mustn't move a bit; I'll go get something for you to write with so I can send your note with our man as he gets Mr. Jones." Her words allowed for no argument. In fact, she didn't wait for one to be made, given how quickly she left the room. Miss Bingley went and closed the curtains on the window before coming to Jane's side.
"You must accept my apologies, Miss Bennet. To think the storm would be so awful to trap you. Even my brother came in quite late due to the weather." She did look quite contrite as she moved to fetch Jane a cup of water.
"I'm so sorry to impose Miss Bingley, and none of us had any idea of this happening," Jane said, accepting the water, but after drinking it made her nauseous. Miss Bingley looked quite doubtful. She took the water and set it on the nightstand. She would instruct the cook to make some broth for later, if she was up to it.
Mrs. Hurst returned to Jane to write her note. Jane reported that she had a trifling thing, hoping her family would stay away and not crowd into Netherfield's tranquility.
"You really are a sweet girl," Miss Bingley said, having read over her shoulder. "As much as I adore you, I'm afraid I can't say the same for the rest of your family." Mrs. Hurst immediately blushed but didn't try to rebuke her sister. Jane sighed, not feeling up to explaining all the thoughts in her head.
"They mean well," she said quietly.
"I'm quite sure," Mrs. Hurst said, "we'll leave you to rest," and the sister vacated the room.
Jane didn't like the tone of Mrs. Hurst. Did she have a mocking tone? Or did Jane imagine it? And Miss Bingley looked doubtful when Jane proclaimed that no one could have foreseen the storm. "They think you're mercenary. You planned this to steal their brother." Jane shook her head but regretted it immediately. She wished Lizzy were here. She felt atrocious, mentally and physically, and she didn't want to be alone.
"You wished for this—to stay away from your family. You've let them speak badly of your family. Your every action betrays your family." Jane could only frown, unable to refute that truth. "You don't actually want to save your family; you just want to escape it. You've deluded yourself." Jane could only curl up under the bedsheet and weep.
She was just getting to the loud sniffles when the door opened up. She hastily wiped the worst of the damage from her face and pulled the covers down. Her spirits immediately lifted, which surprised her briefly.
Mr Bingley! He had the grace to look sheepish as he snuck into her room with all manner of goodies. He looked at her with such concern and sat down on the bed. He rifled through objects and produced many handkerchiefs. He gave her one and left the stack on the nightstand.
"Don't let your thoughts be too terrible," he said. "I'm thrilled to have you here, even if you are very ill. And it must be nice to recover in such a quiet place. With five younger sisters, I imagine silence is a rare treat." Jane was astonished at how simply he put her worries to rest. "What a dear man!"
"I know I ought not to be here," he continued, "but to be sick and alone is awful. I remember when I would get sick at school. So, I've brought you all my favorite things. I have ginger honey candies, licorice and marshmallow drops, raisins, and lemon tea with probably much too much sugar." Jane started to cry again, but with tears of relief and affection.
He set all the things down on her nightstand and held her hand. She wanted to hug him and welcome him into her bed. Not as married people do, but as she and Lizzy did. She wanted to talk to him until she fell asleep, to share her problems and hear his joyful, sensible view on the matter. He was quickly becoming as much of a boon as Lizzy. He looked at her, red, watery, and terribly imperfect, and he continued to smile.
"I love the ginger candies," Jane said tearfully, followed by an unladylike sniff. He promised to get her all the ginger candies she wanted, but for now she needed to sleep. He squeezed her hand and vacated the room.
When she curled up to sleep this time, enjoying the ginger candy, she felt much better.