I apologize in advance for the super long chapter. We're now within the last three chapters. Once more, I was required to do some research. I'm sure there are some inaccuracies regarding laws of the time. So forgive me if you come across one. It's the best I could do in my understanding of Regency era laws.
Thank you for all the reviews and the excitement.
Chapter 37
Very few things were retained in her memory. Mary had no memory of leaving of the concert hall. Although she had wakened minutes after collapsing on stage, the pain was so horrendous that consciousness swayed between writhing and blackness. At first, she vaguely recalled Captain Carter's form hovering over, but eventually his form was exchanged for Lizzy's, then Mr. Darcy's. All her sisters swirled around in disembodied voices, talking to each other and talking to her without making any sense. When she questioned her vision and the fog, she ran a hand over her face, discovering her explanation; her spectacles were missing. At one point, she attempted to ask where they'd gone, would have asked if nausea had none taken a deadly grip. It was so loud, all around her, though everyone attempted to be as quiet as possible. The rattle of the carriage helped none. Unlike other nights, the driver did not take his leisure all the way home. Once feeling the familiar pillows and cotton of bed about her, all her sisters fluttered from one side to the other. They never seemed to stop moving.
Another spasm seized. Before taking consciousness once again, Mary looked up at Jane, turning her gently onto her side. Her voice and Kitty's worked as quickly on the ties as possible. Georgiana's voice was there, a bit more distant. Lizzy told her not that one—the looser one, less-fitted. All her limbs fell limb, her eyes too heavy for anything. Lydia's voice murmured and cooed at intervals. As the dress slowly was peeled away, a weak but desperate plea was made for the red silk. "Lord, nobody cares about your dress!" hissed Kitty. Corset was untied and removed with greater rapidity. Lizzy's voice had hold of the stockings. Jane and Kitty maneuvered arms and legs into a loose-fitted nightgown. Georgiana's slender, silent form came to the head, tilted the neck, undoing the roses, hairpins, and earrings. That done, Mary finally was allowed absolute peace and stillness. The horizontal position alleviated the worst of the pain. For some minutes, she dared not move, especially not her hips.
"Can I do anything?" It sounded like Lizzy. "Do you want anything?"
"Take off the blankets please… all but the sheet."
"You'll be cold. Aren't you?" protested Georgiana.
"She likes it cool when she's ill," whispered Kitty. "Lydia, open the window."
"She must be cold. She's shaking violently…"
"No. She is just nauseous," explained Lizzy. "It looks bad if you've never seen her this way before. I'm not worried about that." Not that anyway, being implied. "Mary, just in case you want it, I'll go down and have the maid bring you some mint tea."
Until Dr. Reis arrived, all conversation kept its distance from her hearing. All her sisters sat to wait until the doctor arrived. Mr. Darcy had followed, remaining respectfully behind the door with his rather disturbed brother-in-law. He did greet her but little else; he must've perceived any direct inquiries to his patient would be useless. Questions turned toward her sisters. Every movement was taken with the greatest care, from lifting her hand for a pulse, shifting the sheet, and especially feeling the middle and lower abdomen. With this examination, Mary distinctly remembered the presence of his hands but no pressure, thank heavens. One of the fingers tested the vicinity of the ovary by a mere brush of the finger, letting it rest—then removed it hastily at the onset of pain. He said nothing to her, nothing to her sisters. Mary's eyes barely opened to see him reach for the sheet and cover her once more.
"Miss Bennet," he spoke softly, "I don't want you to worry about anything. I'm going to bring you some laudanum. You will feel quite better for it. Good thing you've already had a little tea. That can only help. I just need a few words with your family. I will apprise them of our change of plans, and then we'll consult you shortly. I'll just be a minute."
Chop and Lion were not happy with this at all. When he left the bedside, they were up on the bed with Lion forcing his head into her hand and Chop nuzzling her neck and braid. Both kept Mary company while the majority of the room emptied into the hallway. Kitty offered to remain, in agreement that Mary should not be left alone. Of course, who wouldn't want to hear the doctor's verdict and what was happening? And Mary could've laughed if it didn't hurt, watching Kitty shamelessly laying her ear to the door.
"… no time to be wasted, Mrs. Darcy… This has taken a turn I do not like… Better to act now, if this turns to fever… internal bleeding is a possibility…" No more. Kitty voluntarily drew away.
"I can't hear them that well, unfortunately," she lied.
The delegation outside the door went downstairs at Lizzy's insistence, into the drawing room. One topic was a certainty, while another hotly debated.
"I don't disagree with you, Lizzy," Jane clarified. "I think it would be best we write to our mother and father."
"With all due respect, Jane, I agree they should be informed. But I will not wait upon any answer from them—"
"I'm sure, being this serious, they will come."
"I don't want her meddling in a decision that is not hers! Forgive me," Lizzy breathed. "I don't mean to be passionate, Jane. But all our lives, she has opposed all doctors ever visiting the house. It truly angers me that Mary has been prevented of a doctor's care when she ought to have had it many years ago. Now, she is very ill and needs this surgery. I will not have our mother prevent it."
"Do we need express permission from her father?" asked Mr. Darcy. "Could not myself, or even her uncle, be seen in place of a guardian?"
"Mr. Darcy," began Dr. Reis, "do you fully understand the implications of taking on that role in this situation? I wish I could better vouch for it, but surgeries are not without high risk. I will be honest with you all. Surgery can be done. I've conducted a number of them in the past, but there's always a chance of infection, even despite our best efforts. If I am correct, and there is hemorrhaging, there may be no avoiding it. My worst fear would be an abscess. I'll be racing to prevent that. Still, surgery itself is a risk. If you sign yourself to it, you take responsibility for any consequences of it."
With watery eyes and mutual struggle to speak, all sisters looked round at one another. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. Even if they'd all gone separate ways and separate lives, they were all still together, still alive. The thought of that possibility: from five to four.
"I'll write the letter," Jane shuddered out, swiping away the start of her tears. The throat cleared. "I'll write our mother. I won't give her specifics. I'll just say that Mary is very ill. She should know, but not enough to give her reason to try preventing this."
The butler broke the tenseness upon entering and announcing Dr. Carter. The man was still full dressed from the concert. No thought was given to it.
"What news?" he gasped out.
"Captain Carter!" cried Lydia. "Doctor?"
Dr. Reis repeated his verdict in short, hushed fashion. It didn't require so much as for the family. Surveying the room, he knew the full weight of the world had come to fall on each of them. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley looked between each other gravely. Jane, Lizzy, and Lydia dared not look at one another for fear of the floodgates. Miss Darcy already had lost that battle. Though the most silent of them, she sat with her head hung. A crumpled and pink face was busily attended by a handkerchief, and the sobs, which she silenced, forcefully racked her small frame. He turned quickly away, a scene too familiar to himself and feeling too close to the heart.
"My sister would not be talked into staying at home," he informed the gentlemen thickly. "And when my mother heard of it, she insisted on coming along. They are waiting outside."
Mr. Darcy summoned the butler back, asking that he fetch Mrs. and Miss Carter from the carriage at the door. Lizzy also took opportunity to summon tea for themselves and anyone in the room in need of fortifying.
"Dr. Reis, I must ask," Lizzy exhaled. "The surgery: is it necessary for Mary to be moved and taken to your clinic? Can we not have it performed here in the comfort of her room?"
"It might seem rather hard on her, I understand. But I have better control of circumstances in my own clinic. Pardon my indelicacy, surgery is not a clean procedure, Mrs. Darcy."
"May I see her?"
Lizzy took the task of leading him up the stairs and to her room. A few candles had been left lit, but no fire. Kitty had borrowed one of her sister's shawls, pulled a chair near the top of the bed. Both of them alternated strokes between the two cats, which purred incessantly. Chop's pretty head lifted, recognizing the captain as no stranger, almost greeting him with a soft chatter.
"I came as soon as I could," he began. "Dr. Reis wanted me to let you know he'll be up any minute with the laudanum."
"Thank you."
In a rather ironic turn of events, Lizzy did as her mother had done many times, but of course, without the same intentions. She quietly waved to Kitty to step out. That conversation from downstairs could wait at least five minutes.
"I caused quite a scene, did I not?"
"Don't worry about that."
"They've not told me yet."
"Told you what?"
"I know what is coming… I shall have to undergo surgery. Dr. Reis already discussed this matter with me, some time ago."
"Are you anxious?"
"Of course," Mary heaved a sigh. "I'm terrified, but this is why I consulted him in the first place. In this state I'm in now, I'd rather be here in London than anywhere else. No matter what happens, I trust him to whatever must be done. If… If he can, I know he'll save me. If he can't, he'll at least take away my pain for good. That's a cure in of itself—"
"That's nonsense!" he chided. Still quiet but in severe tone: "That is not a cure. Don't you ever say that to me again. Mary, I mean it, there's no room in the surgery or in recovery for that kind of attitude. You need a fighting spirit."
"I am not resigned, of course. I am… trying not to lose my head about it. Please, Luke, tell me what Dr. Reis said? I know you know. If you can spare Lizzy or Jane… Besides, you could explain it more clearly than they… Please?"
"He suspects a rupture of the growth on the ovary." They never had spoken this candidly. Appropriate or not, it didn't matter anymore. "He felt a little swelling, and he's rather anxious to see the damage for himself. From what little I know of these things, ruptures can occur but often heal on their own. Unfortunately, you are showing clear signs of internal bleeding. It's vital that he operate immediately to stop the bleeding, and if necessary, a detail that he spared your family—if necessary, drain any abscess."
"Infection."
"Yes."
"What does my family say?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Darcy will do whatever you wish. I may not be family; although I'm sure I can speak for every one of them, we hope the risks do not frighten you from proceeding."
"No. I may be afraid, but not scared senseless."
"My mother and sister came with me. They're as anxious for you as myself."
"What… I thought your mother did not like me. I'm rather surprised."
He smiled. "Well, she holds a grudge, but she's not without feeling. She's a bit hard and strong in her love. I don't have to tell you about that.
"No. That is dear of them. And I, scarcely an acquaintance."
"Mary, this is very bad timing on my part. This is not a time you should overexert yourself. I'm sorry for my selfishness but it won't wait… Mary, will you marry me?"
Leaning her head back and staring at the ceiling, she tried in vain to contain the happiness that had come too late. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. Poor Chop attempted to nuzzle the hand shielding her eyes, lightly pawing at her cheek.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to upset you."
"No… No, I…" she sniffled, then caught her breath. "How can I say yes now? Everything is changed now. Do you not understand that I could die from this? It is a possibility even I cannot deny. If the end must come now, I will accept that, but you… Haven't you been through enough tragedy in your life already these past few years? You've lost your sister, then your father… Even if I come through just fine, say that I do, what will be our future? I may or may not be capable of having children. That is also a very real possibility. I may recover but I will be weaker for it, an invalid of delicate health for the rest of my life… Why would you want that?"
The sobs threatened to overtake entirely, if not his grasping hand; with much greater surprise, to feel his form lean, tenderly brushing lips on her forehead. "Do you really think me so weak to be afraid of all that?" he murmured. "It does not matter, even if the worst, I would still mourn you the same as a wife. I've marched in war before. Death is always a possibility, but so is survival. Mary, you have the same odds before you. Life is also possible. Whether it's fifty years, fifty days, or shorter, the joy of our time together will far outweigh the heartache."
"Oh, you fool!" she burst, laughing and crying at once. "So if I survive, what do you expect me to do?"
"Love me. That's all I expect, and you can expect the same."
"But what about the practicality? You expect me to be your surgical assistant?"
"Of course, I'm afraid that is a requirement." He was not to be looked at, with glistening eyes himself and a voice starting to turn hoarse.
"Do you expect me to wait up late for you too? Your days are long after all."
"Of course not, don't be silly! You'll go to bed at a normal hour, but if it's possible, can you leave me a little morsel in the kitchen?"
"Very well."
"Have you no expectations to be met, my dear?"
"Will you be my brutal critic, should I continue to compose?"
"No question about it. And no question whether you will; you will continue to compose. And we'll have friends and parties of our own to celebrate their publication."
"Do I have to have parties? They can be rather tiresome sometimes."
"Yes, you do. We'll do a little entertaining, just enough; then most of our days, we'll have the house all to ourselves. And you can fill every room with books. Have your own piano…" He too began to cry with laughter. "We'll invite your father to come visit. He'll probably be right at home with the entire house turned into a library."
"You would really do all that?"
"… Only if Mrs. Carter will permit me."
Very slowly did Mary edge herself upward, with the pillows shifted behind her. Not once did he release her hand. Perhaps it ought to have waited for the parlour, wearing her best dress, in the peak health, when she was well enough to venture down. Others might have asked leave to go to the girl's father. No circumstance was so opposite of ideal, laying an invalid in her bed and receiving a marriage proposal. At least, there was no duty or patroness or entail to be given consideration. Expressions of affection were by no means violent, but they were not denied her. Cradled in an arm, all the promises and tenderness and kisses due Mrs. Carter were dutifully bestowed.
Cutting short their sad bliss was Dr. Reis, to bring a dose of laudanum. A few details were related, nothing truly memorable. The good doctor would return to the clinic, make ready, and by morning, the finality of terms would be reconciled. Morning? It was morning already—two thirty.
"What finality?" asked the captain after the doctor's departure.
"Since we have a few hours to wait before morning and the clinic is ready," explained Lizzy, "my husband will consult my uncle. As he is not her legal guardian, it's become a complication. While I understand the doctor's procedure, I'd rather put aside the legalities. It's not as if we need permission from my father to send for a doctor."
"It's understandable, but unreasonable if you ask me," he agreed.
"Does that mean we cannot go on with the surgery?" worried Mary.
"It can still go forward, but Mr. Darcy and our uncle are taking the place temporarily as your guardian, in order to sign the disclosures. As Dr. Reis explained, surgeons are required to have your consent and family for the risks involved."
"Lizzy, that might make matters longer, especially if we're forced to wait for Papa. It doesn't have to Papa, does it? Could not—could not a husband suffice in place of guardians?"
Joy had no words. Her sister's quickness and recognition produced a delight that robbed her of speech and expression. Lizzy looked down on Mary, with both hands pressed to her lips. "Mary… Captain Carter? Is it true?" she dared.
"Yes," he proudly declared. "I hope I have your blessing, madam. I'd not thought of it. Not to make this a marriage of convenience, Mary," he teased, "but there is a need for urgency. If it will serve Mary and everyone else, I would like to step into that role as soon as possible. If I might have a couple hours, I could summon the vicar myself."
"It's about time you do, sir!" Lizzy burst into tears. "It's nearly three. Do you really think you can summon the man here at this hour? Not to delay things either, but please, are you absolutely sure you both wish to marry this way? You won't wish to wait for a better time?"
"I don't care about it, Lizzy. This is not just a legality. Luke and I wish to be happy, no matter how long that means. And I want him to be near, be the first to have news, he and his family will be there for you just as I know you'll do the same for him."
That was a difficult matter for the early hours of Sunday. Naturally, any vicar should expect a summons at the ungodly hour to give solace to the dying, say last prayers and such. It took some doing to get him out of bed on account of a lovesick man so impatient to marry. And unless a special license was involved, the couple must come to him and into the church for a wedding service. Thankfully, Captain Carter had not set off alone in his commission. His two future brothers-in-law added weight to the request, willing to offer a generous payment for his services, and bypass the reading of the banns and all added formalities that come with a common license. Once explained, the urgency of the matter and the dire situation of the lady, barely able to walk and possibly dying, they were not to be sent off—and the vicar lost his will to object.
By five o'clock that morning, all the family filled Mary's chambers to witness a rather threadbare ceremony. Captain Carter had not changed at all. Mary, in her own nightgown, holding the remainder of the nosegay delivered the night before, sat up with the aid of pillows and the arm of her bridegroom, sitting half by her and half to the side of the bed. None of it seemed real. It did not feel like a real wedding. Thank heavens, otherwise she'd never have gotten through it. Standing up there in the church, being walked down the aisle had wrecked havoc on Jane and Lizzy's nerves on the day of their wedding. Jane almost took ill at the very last minute. And before all of Meryton in Longbourn church. No, the present circumstances, though sad for everyone involved, did not give grief. If anything, up to the present, Mary was perhaps the most calm and composed of all her sisters at 'the alter,' so to speak. Even Lydia couldn't deny it, all the anxiety on her day, happy as she had been—and from there, her reminiscences sunk rapidly into despair.
Mrs. Carter and daughter Ruth made no objections to the hour, the rushed manner of marriage, to the unorthodox assembly. Lydia sat in a spare chair, ready to fall asleep and go back to bed. Everyone else who had been to the musical exhibition remained dressed. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, like the captain, managed to survive the onset of wet weather. During the sermon, rain started to come harder and faster, with a few drops through the open window. Nobody moved to close it, as Mary so desperately needed the cool air. It wasn't an oppressive humidity, nor the ominous thunderstorm—just a sweet, late summer rain. A mother-in-law could certainly have demanded better for her son. She could have voiced objection for marrying a girl who had broken his heart years ago. This step on her son's part seemed everything against prudent judgment; still, she saw no reason to convince him otherwise. At least, Jane's conversation with her revealed as much. Her daughter had better appreciation for the character of her brother's bride, even if she too had been angry in the past. A sincere wish to know Mary better, at a more convenient time, was earnestly expressed. Georgiana cried more than any of Mary's sisters, not for any lack of feeling on their part, but bursting from the same emotion that filled their own hearts, a terrified version of happiness.
Come morning, Captain Carter had signed both his certificate of marriage, along with Mrs. Mary Carter, and alongside her signature on the consent and disclosure of her surgical procedure through Dr. Reis. Poor Mrs. Bennet. Jane had already sent off her letter on the morning post, express, without even amending it with a post-script. No line in the way of: Mary may be ill, but she is now married. No real harm would come of it, even if her mother had been cheated out of the pleasures.
Never before had the Darcy residence been so overwhelmed with social calls, or so it appeared to all of Grovsnor Square. The first caller that morning, much to be wondered at, was Mr. Cummings. He, too, had attended the musical exhibition. As he was prevented from access at the concert hall, he called unseasonably early to inquire after Miss Bennet, whether she had recovered from the strange collapse, and if he might offer his services in any way possible. While everyone else was occupied, the only one available of the family to meet him was Miss Darcy. "I also wish to apologize for my rude behaviour of the other day," he confessed. "I said some things in anger, which I bitterly regret, and Miss Bennet by no means deserved it." Not knowing all the particulars, it was easy to forgive. Aside from his indignation at refusal, he'd never transgressed propriety or shown himself worthless in character. It distressed him very much to be a witness among hundreds of spectators. "I blame myself for not having done more. She was not happy in the musical society, and she knew her limitations. I chose to ignore them. Had I known how serious her condition had become, I'd never have let her go on stage."
"You could not have stopped her. None of us," admitted Georgiana. "She was not there for herself last night. It is her intention, not just to escape but to help all the Starlight Circle. And thankfully, Miss Sothern has not succeeded despite what she attempted."
It would've been too great a blow to tell him that she was undergoing surgery at that moment, or to tell him that she was no longer Miss Bennet. He did not stay fifteen minutes; no need or wish to trouble the family during their trials. In his brief visit, Mr. Cummings missed an entire delegation. Lady Herncastle was invited to join the Darcys in the drawing room, along with Mr. Spencer. This did not seem to put her off. All thought of seeing Mary was not to be presumed upon; she was doubtless upstairs being tended to by a doctor.
"Actually, I'm afraid you're mistaken," began Elizabeth. "I cannot stay long. I've ordered the carriage in twenty minutes to take me to the clinic of Dr. Reis. She is, as of this moment, undergoing surgery for a serious internal complaint."
"Oh dear, it can't be she's worsened. You should've heard all the commotion at the end of the exhibition. Five hundred people just frightened for her, poor girl!"
"Worsened?" repeated Mr. Darcy. "Your ladyship, what makes you say that?"
"She mentioned something or other about her constitution."
Though invited to sit, she chose to stand. Therefore, Elizabeth rose to her feet, taking a stance beside the piano bench, as if Mary still sat there. "So you were aware my sister was not in the best of health, am I correct? Were you…"
"Elizabeth," whispered her husband.
Angry tears came unbidden, flashing some warning that she would not be stopped, not by her husband, lawyer, nor even herself. "Were you not aware, at all, that by continuing to have late engagements, she was going expressly against her doctor's orders?"
"I am very, very sorry, Mrs. Darcy. Had I known…" Her ladyship's tongue staggered. "I should have taken it more seriously, given more consideration—"
"Apparently! She was gone and out late fulfilling her musical engagements, as much as ever."
"A-All she had to do was speak up and tell me—"
"She already gave you warning, and that did not make you heed!"
"Forgive me," interrupted the lawyer. "Pardon my interruption, Mrs. Darcy. Before this goes any farther, allow me to state my business, Lady Herncastle. I'm not here on a social call. I'm representing Mary Bennet, in a case against yourself, the president of the Starlight Circle society."
"I beg your pardon?"
"As she was having difficulties in fulfilling her contract, Miss Bennet and her family expressed concern about the terms of her contract. Upon review, I was very troubled to find there is no clause written in about voluntary resignation. Of course, you reserve the rights to terminate the relationship yourself for 'conduct unbecoming of a member of the society.' I might add, even in that statement, you do not stipulate what is considered unbecoming conduct. It's all meant to sound nice and easily understood. It's not a lengthy document but it leaves a lot of things very gray. Basically, in the case of you terminating a contract or whether or not a member can resign, it all comes down to, will you allow it or not. Am I wrong?"
"Is this a formal charge against me, Mr. Spencer?"
"May I respectfully request an explanation, your ladyship, as to why this particular situation is unaddressed in your contracts?"
More defensive emotion gradually replaced the shock, with a poignant glance at Mr. Darcy. Yes, she saw clearly now she had been misled. "Mr. Spencer, my terms of contract are written to be fair to all parties."
"Fairness is subjective. Just as your statement, that you will take her health into consideration, is also subjective. You can define it. The members of the Starlight Circle are left to try and interpret it. Please answer my question. Why was resignation excluded from the contract?"
"Why? I am deeply offended by this. I've sponsored these ladies for a good many years, Mr. Spencer! I've put my own resources into their career advancement. I've introduced them into respectable society. On their own, none of them would've been treated with any sort of dignity. Half of them would go unrecognized in the world; some of them would even be destitute. I do not demand great things of my ladies, only the best of themselves and maybe a little loyalty. Is that asking so much?"
"So because you've done them a great favour, they owe you?"
"Why not?"
"Miss Bennet went against her doctor's orders to fulfill a business contract. Have you not considered, my lady, the ramifications to you, should Miss Bennet not recover?"
"But I did not cause this! I don't even know the nature of her health condition."
"That is beside the point. It was within your power to release this young woman from her obligations. By your passivity, you've forced her to choose between a breach of contract and risking her health. Do you think she made a wise choice?"
"Certainly not."
"Indeed, a contract is a contract. We cannot argue that. As to whether that missing clause was an oversight or deliberately intended to maintain your financial interests, is the subject of our scrutiny."
"I think this conversation has gone far enough, Mr. Spencer. I've been invited here today on false pretenses, with the clear intention of personal attack. I will not stand for this, Mr. Darcy! I will be consulting my lawyer this afternoon, depend upon it."
"Your ladyship, you still fail to answer my question. Why was resignation left out of Miss Bennet's contract?"
"That is hardly particular to Mary Bennet. All my ladies are bound by contract. You may consult them yourself. They'll tell you everyone is treated equally."
"Hardly!" laughed Lizzy. "Equally, what nonsense! All these women are at each other's throats just to get more engagements, to get coveted places in the lists, have the most performances. Neither fair or equal."
"Your sister made a choice, Mrs. Darcy, just as all of them have done."
"Now in that, all of them were treated equal—all of them duped."
"Duped!"
"Mrs. Darcy, please, no accusations!" bid Mr. Spencer.
"This is hostile!"
"My sister fights for her life. I've a small right to be hostile!" Lizzy hastily rang for the bell, the signal to the butler. "Lady Herncastle, so eager as you are to rise in your own defense, rather speaks to your motive. If I am wrong in my assumption, why don't we put the case to the ladies of the Starlight Circle. Ah, ladies please come in!"
One by one filed in. Miss Andrews, Mrs. Bowman, Miss Quinn, Miss Longsbury, and Mrs. Maynard. All had been sent to another room to wait for the bell and the summons of the butler. Each one borne a similar expression, like the night of last night, with a touch of haughty resolve.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Miss Quinn stepped forward. "Lady Herncastle, we've each been paid a visit by Mr. Spencer and an associate, Mr. Teal. And what information they've shared with us has been very enlightening."
Miss Longsbury added: "We've also been informed the truth about Miss Bennet and her condition. On behalf of all of us members of the Starlight, I speak for everyone, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
"This is disgraceful!" "Heartless!" "You willfully turned a blind eye!" rippled through the line.
"Mary Bennet signed the same contract we've all signed," continued Miss Quinn. "We have as much right to a defense as her. Unfortunately for most of us, we have no means of fighting this in court. We ought to thank her for firing the first shot. It's rather sad though, she should have to fall on her own sword. She should never have been a member of the society. I do not say so, out of jealousy, but out of common sense. Her state of health made her unfit. We've all been told the tales: what a wonderful world it will be, how famous we will be, our fortune is made, our future safe. We've heard it all, haven't we?" All nodded. "One version or another. We've all heard the same story. And ladies, was it the fairytale you were made to expect? No! None of it was real. We've slaved for years some of us. We can't travel home. We can't see our families. We cannot marry as we like. We cannot dream of other things. We cannot retire ourselves. We cannot afford to change our minds. Life is all about music! Music! What are we sacrificing our lives for? Music is not art—it's just a lot of pretty noise!"
Thankfully for Mr. Spencer, everyone else forgot all about Lizzy's mild outburst.
"What has happened to Mary could happen to any of us," defended Miss Andrews.
"Will you be taking us to court when we cannot fulfill our contracts anymore?" seconded by Miss Longsbury. "It would seem Mr. Spencer, the only way out of our contract is death or desertion."
Lady Herncastle attempted to speak, only to be cut short over and over again. "You've had one desertion already," touted Miss Quinn. "The lovely Rietta has left town."
Multiple exclamations followed, her ladyship's the loudest. "Miss Sothern? No!"
"Louise and I discovered her letter this morning, left at her flat. I will not trouble you with the details, only that most relevant. She's had an offer! A wealthy patron from the continent has stepped forward, and she's made a contract with him and his opera company. And with no intentions of ever returning to England."
Unable to be present, Mary's sister enjoyed the victory for her, smiling to herself. What a brave face she'd put on, what brazenness, all her airs and self-composure: sent running by defeat, degraded and humbled by the victim of her theft, made an object of ridicule by her favoured product of the vine.
"Well, good for her!" declared Mrs. Bowman. "She had some sense. No gumption, but sense. Of course, I don't know how much sense she has, breaking one contract for another. Who would reclaim their freedom to only give it up again? I've learned a good deal from Mr. Teal. If ever I sign a new contract, I shall take care to refer to his pamphlet here. Very eloquently worded, and so simple and straightforward. He does such justice to our cause, better justice than we deserve no doubt. You should read it. Mary Bennet will be a hero if she lives, a martyr if she dies. Not to put it so cold and blunt before the family, but that's how it stands, Lady Herncastle. If she does not live, you do not stand a chance in a court of law. And I don't believe any of the Starlight members would dare align themselves with a public villain. She would lose all the respect of good society, no matter how talented she be. And worse, we none of us want to be forced the ultimatum that Mary had. Therefore, in mine and my family's best interest, until this matter is resolved, I am canceling all my future engagements."
"That goes for me too!" repeated by the others.
"We are a delegation," announced Miss Quinn. "We represent all the ladies of the Starlight Circle. If this case goes to trial, even should it go all the way to the Lord Chief Justice, every member of the society is willing to offer her testimony. Especially, if the worst happens to Miss Bennet, it is our duty to continue what she could not on her own."
Beyond that, none of them had much more to say. Such a speech was more to be expected from one of the others like Miss Andrews or Mrs. Bowman, who had been kindly acquaintances of Mary. Yet, it was, as Mr. Spencer predicted, her greatest enemy to be her greatest advocate among the Starlight. According to their declarations, all the stars were falling from heaven. The real friend and guardian of Mary's interests sat stupefied, protesting none as they made their departure.
"So you see, your ladyship, it will be so simple, for either side," Mr. Spencer recalled her. "Are you well, my lady? Would you like to take some water or wine?"
"I do not believe it. I simply don't believe it…"
"As you have just seen, fairness is subjective. Everyone has been upholding their end. None of them are happy. If you so insist upon it, we may take this to trial, but you're not going to get much sympathy, from the ladies, from the public. What can be done about this?"
The wounds showed in her downtrodden face and tears, her hand clutching handkerchief to her mouth. "I didn't mean this to happen. I never expected her to be so ill, to be on the point of dying."
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. "We've all been unhappily surprised, Lady Herncastle. In light of what has transpired, I think the least you can do, for my wife's sister, is to void her contract."
"Of course! Of course! It shall be done today, as soon as I visit my lawyer."
"And what about all the other society members? What shall be done for them?"
"Well… Well, I suppose I might offer them, a new, an a-amended contract."
"That is a good start," remarked Mr. Spencer.
"A start?"
"Indeed. Miss Bennet has spent a good portion of her own income, earnings from her musical commissions on her medical care. Her own sister and brother-in-law have made some additional contributions here and there. Dr. Reis is a top expert here in London, and surgery is risky, expensive… Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"What will you give?"
"I do not know the costs particularly, Mr. Spencer."
The lawyer simpered. "Well, cost is only one matter. It does not entirely restore the situation. You'll pay the cost, but you'll also pay for damages: income that can never be earned, relieving the young woman and her family of some immediate burdens, and to be of assistance during her recovery."
"That is a lot to ask—"
"Do you hear me asking?"
As difficult and unwilling to obey, the younger members of the house were sent off to bed to try and get sleep. Jane and Charles had gone with the Carters to the clinic when the time of morning came. Kitty and Georgiana should've preferred to go and wait with them, but at their insistence, they would stay behind and rest, reasoning that there would be long vigils to come before all of them. While they rested, Jane and Charles would support Captain Carter. When they brought Mary home, they would be exhausted and time for others to give aid. Fair enough. The rain continued to pound the window, which had lulled Kitty for a few hours. She had undressed without bothering about the comfort of a nightgown. One of her frocks lay ready on a nearby chair, a pair of shoes tucked below. Having managed some sleep, overcome by great fatigue, Kitty stirred sluggishly. The clock just struck half past one. Hours now gone. They should have heard some news by now, shouldn't they? Charles offered to send word back. Had she been remiss and not known?
Sitting up and clearing up her eyes, after the clock, her sights fell on Lydia. She had been asleep before Kitty, wakened before her, to curl up with light reading by the window.
"What are you reading?" yawned Kitty.
"Oh, nothing! Just—nothing."
"Lydia! That's my diary!"
"Well, it used to be mine once."
Bolt upright and indignant, the elder hurriedly snatched it back. "When it was yours, I never violated your cardinal rule." It was placed inside a trunk and locked up.
"I've been meaning to ask: what's that plant on your side of the bed?"
"It's my orchid. I've told you about it."
"Looks nothing like what you told me. What happened to the blooms?"
"They dropped off."
"What's the use in keeping it now? It's just a plain thing. Not to be nasty, but it looks ugly without any blooms."
"It lives a long time. And if you're patient, they grow them back. The journey from Nottinghamshire must have been too rough for it."
"Was that the flower he gave you?"
"I think you've read plenty enough to know," Kitty retorted. "It's none of your business."
"Not everything. Some of your later entries I couldn't make out at all. Is it French?"
"Italian. I wrote to you that I was learning Italian."
"You never really explained why though," she shrugged, simpered, with a flick of the brow. "All those Italian fellows, those I saw anyway, they're all of them very handsome, Kitty."
"I daresay they are, but nobody's handsome after a few hours of hard work and toiling in the sun."
"You've gotten quite dark yourself."
"I'd really rather not talk about it, Lydia." Kitty returned to the bed, resting folded arms and head on folded knees. "I'm in no mood to think about beaux."
"Would be better than worrying, don't you think?" Waiting for her sister to answer proved dispiriting to them both. "What did you think of the ceremony? A bit pitiful for a wedding ceremony. I am sad that Mary couldn't have had a proper wedding. Nobody here to see her, except the family. No wedding gown, no veil. Not even Mama or Papa."
"Well, a lot of that was foregone with your wedding, wasn't it?"
"I didn't get my way with a lot of things. I should've liked a veil, one with lace. I do wish all of you could've been there. Papa wouldn't have cared, but Mama… I wish she'd have been there."
"I'm sorry for them too. They deserved much better than this, but under the circumstances, I think Mary and Captain Carter are satisfied with the legality. We'll just… just have to celebrate later, that's all." No! Not a thought of the alternative must cross her lips. Their new brother-in-law made them promise.
"And whatever happened with Mr. Murray?"
The eyes rolled, head shook. "He's gone back to university."
"Did he ever confess his love?"
"Lydia—"
"You can't write me about it and then leave me in suspense. You can only take a joke so far."
"And you've never done that? Oh no, never."
"Well, that answers my question then. He said nothing, didn't he? What a shame. First Denny, then Murray. Not the greatest of luck with beaux. We really ought to do something, Kitty. I have no idea what… I doubt if I'll ever return to Newcastle. It's too shameful to go back to my home there without Wickham. There's Meryton, but the situation will be the same. And you can't go back home. There is nothing for you in Meryton. You'll be a spinster in a matter of years. Perhaps if we could get one of our sisters to take us to Brighton. Our father will not refuse when it's Lizzy asking."
"Why Brighton? To catch a husband?"
"Why not? It's a pretty watering place. Don't be so sour, Kitty! Cheer up! I'll find you a husband, chaperone you to the balls and parties, mark my words—"
"Save the schemes for your daughters. It will only thirteen or fourteen years until you may start on Dora."
"I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about you."
With a growl and a huff: "Lydia, are you so dense, or just incapable of feeling? What do I care about my life these next few years? At least I will still be alive! Our sister may not live beyond these next few days!" The shock managed to silence. "I'm happy where I am, and happy as I am. Brighton did you no good. You got what you always wanted, and it's not made you any happier. Your dear Wickham is a common drunkard, a lecherous man, an indifferent father that treats his wife badly, and cannot earn an income to keep his own family. He has to rely on Mr. Darcy's charity for his bread. If he had done right by you, you'd all still have a home in Newcastle. That's not very manly of him, to be sure. Forgive me if I sound cruel, but you are the last person in the world to give advice. For your sake, for your girls, it's time to drop the pretenses and learn to get on without him. All of you will be much happier for it."
Of course, it was not a scolding to give satisfaction to either party. It gave the elder sister a pang to dress and walk from the room, leaving the youngest in tears and sobbing over her abuses. Lydia was full of abuses herself, for Kitty, for Jane and Lizzy who could've been more generous, for the whole world, and mostly for Wickham on account of her lonely misery. Never once in this tirade did she utter the words: I'm sorry for having ever married him. It need not be said really. So many times had Kitty been reduced to tears, being conquered by her. Wouldn't it be so satisfying to win one argument? No. Kitty still shed tears, reserved for the privacy of the deserted drawing room. Mr. Wickham's fate still remained undecided. According to Charles, the incident was yet to be communicated to Mr. Darcy, who would be outraged himself. It might seem cruel to a mother with children, to ship off their father to the other side of the world. Did it outweigh the hardships if he remained in England, in the family? There was plenty of advantages to tempt the families to be rid of him. Mr. Darcy, already proven himself very generous, could more easily provide monetary aid to Lydia and her children. Without a gambler to have to try outmaneuvering, necessities could be better afforded. Lydia might be able to keep one or two servants again. The table would be more plentiful, of better quality; in turn, all would see improvement in their health and constitution. Sending for a doctor could be done without a thought of: How will we afford it? And they'll all have the benefit of being settled permanently, removing necessity to move at the will of the regiment's commander.
Kitty tried not to wish for it. If she had been in Lydia's position, no matter the societal shame and financial hardship, the liberation from such shackles would tempt her. As no one else had come yet with news, and unable to go back to her room, she sat down to the writing desk to begin a letter. After three or four sentences, constructed with improper grammar and grasping for Italian vocabulary, the page was crumpled mercilessly in her hand, and all frustrations, the blazing hearth assisted in their expression. The words were in her head. Even if she'd written in English, the desire for those words burned as hotly as the paper. Where would she even know to send it? Was the family still in England? Neither signore or his sister indicated how long they would stay before returning. Ilaria had been eager to return home, all of them. And why would Charles know any other addresses to forward correspondence? The contract had been completed. Unless some friend of Mr. Bingley's might wish to request the services of the same landscape architect themselves, and Kitty were invited to sojourn on their estate, she would never see any of them again.
The sound of a rapidly approaching carriage was coming from down the street. The Bingleys and Darcys were from home now, waiting with the captain at the clinic. Even after the surgery, it was intended that Mary would spend the night and be monitored for several days after. Better to have her stay than move her unnecessarily, and be nearby the doctors and nurses in case something went wrong. Mr. Darcy's barouche would not have hastened so, just to bring news back. Rushing to the window, Kitty watched a dreadful scene—the one everyone had been dreading. The coachman rang the door, and the butler came. But the passengers refused to wait for someone else to open the door. Out sprang her father, without attire for the rain, assisting her mother out, down, and into the downpour. Mrs. Bennet was greeted by an assault from the heavens she'd not been prepared for; both of them were saved by the butler's umbrella.
I will add, on a personal note, what Mary and Captain Carter, I've already lived that. Two weeks before my wedding, my husband got really sick, and we almost had to cancel the wedding and do it like this. We still managed, even though he was attached to a device for a short time until we were able to get him in for a reconstructive surgery. He's doing much better now, over a year since the surgery now. If any of you have had a similar experience, marriage or a new baby, etc, I'm so sorry.
Still, sorry for the whiplash of a read. Mary's condition will be better explained in the next update.