Before I start out, a couple of comments to reviewers. Thank you to all the loyal and opinionated reviewers. Special mentions next chapter.

Thank you PPKit. I'm sorry that I denied you Carter's reaction to the red dress, and this complaint has been duly noted. So stay tuned.

To Dalia Lelo: This was a difficulty, the scene between Kitty and Lydia. I was torn on it, thinking about Lydia's characterization in the canon. She seems to me the type of person, the narcissistic type, that will put on a show for everyone and pretend her life is great and enviable to others; and the type of person that would rather lie, rather die than admit she made a huge mistake running off with Wickham. We start to see that happen at the end of Austen's novel. "His affection for her soon sunk into indifference; her's lasted a little longer; an in spite of her youth and her manners, she retained all the claims to reputation which her marriage had given her." Yes, both her parents set up her dysfunctional character. I do feel sympathy for her for that. But I don't imagine even this kind of event would ultimately impact her enough to motivate a change of mindset.

And now to one very particular Guest Reviewer: Apparently, you've proven the profanity filter doesn't work on this site. Five or six different times, probably more, you've left reviews left (not about the story) but about the characters. Just the foulest language, cursing out and calling ALL the Bennet sisters horrible names, passing judgment like you are above it all, with no sympathy for the human condition, and you feel the need to repeat these nasty comments over and over with each update (despite the fact I delete your reviews every single time). If you were a registered member, I'd have reported your abusive behavior a long time ago. It makes no sense that someone, who does nothing but hate on the original author's characters and novels, would read any of the fanfiction. I have only one thing to say to you, borrowing from Jane Austen's own words. From Sense & Sensibility, after Elinor having one inane conversation with Robert Ferrars, this was her personal reflection: "Elinor agreed to it all, for she did not think he deserved the compliment of rational opposition."

Alright, two more to go...

Chapter 38

If either of the couples had any idea of it, that Mr. and Mrs. Bennet would arrive that evening in Grovsnor Square, somebody would've stayed behind and not leave Kitty to bear it. Surprisingly enough, she withstood a barrage of inquires. Mrs. Bennet assumed right off that Mary would be in one of the rooms upstairs, then begged to know where everyone had gone. Why was neither mistress or master to be found? Truth was wisely deferred; in the moment, Kitty rang for tea and sat them down in the drawing room, explaining that Mary had been taken to see the doctor. She was very poorly last night and suffered an unexpected collapse. The exact reason for it was not made clear yet. When the rest of the family returned, they should have more news. Shrewdly worded. It did not pacify either one. Her mother drained of colour and pursed her lips so thin and threadbare at the mention of a doctor. Even if she was unhappy about it, she did not argue it.

At the very least, it kept her quiet in the short term. Her father, she observed, said little beyond their initial greetings. One seemed to be doing all the talking, the other all the thinking. And Mrs. Bennet repeated, more than twice, her questions about what led up to Mary's strange collapse. Was she feeling any pain? Did she complain of dizziness or greater fatigue as of late? Was she eating normally? Was she taking Dr. Jones' prescription as instructed? With most of them, Kitty was no authority on the subject to give an answer. She'd only recently arrived in London, along with the Bingleys. Suddenly reminded of it, Kitty rang the bell again and asked it Lydia might be asked to come downstairs.

"What! Lydia is here? Oh Kitty, you goose, why didn't you say something? Oh, my dear Lydia! Where is she? Where are the little girls?"

"They're all upstairs. I suppose the maid may show you to her."

"Yes! Yes! I want to see her. Lord, what a long journey she's had from the north. How sweet! All for her sister…" Off she went from the room. That left the thinker of the room now the speaker. Up until now, he never looked at her this way.

"Don't be offended, Kitty, if you can. She's been fretful ever since we left Hertfordshire."

"I'm not offended, Papa. I know."

"Is it as serious as Jane told us? If you know more, you can tell me."

"Perhaps Lizzy should tell you, when they all come home."

"… Kitty?"

"Yes, Papa?"

"How are you?"

"I'm well…"

The brow furrowed sadly. "Truly?"

"I'm just… I've never—Well, you've never asked me that, but you've never had to ask me that. Never been away from home so long."

"I had expected to find you much changed, happier when you came home. Under the present circumstances with Mary, it's not to be wondered at; we're all in the same state."

"Besides the present circumstances, I wouldn't say that I'm unhappy."

"You are changed."

"For the better, I'm sure," she sighed, forced a smile. "Don't judge me in this moment. I'm just overtired. I doubt anybody slept this last night… Papa, if I tell you, will you tell Mama?"

He blinked, stared with a hard grimace. "I'm glad," he murmured softly. "Whatever has been done, it's been for the best."

"You—approve of Mary, seeing a doctor?"

"Kitty, these last visits to London, visiting the Gardiners… ?"

"Yes."

"That's what was going on?"

"Yes. They knew Mama would not sanction it otherwise."

"Kitty, I don't know much about Mary's complaint. Due to the nature of it, I assume it's delicate; your mother does not discuss it openly. Neither you or any of your sisters know this. We've been having this fight for years, almost the entirety of our marriage. I begged your mother to let me send for a doctor when Jane was being born. It was a long and difficult birth." He drew a long sip of his tea. "With Mary, I almost sent for one here in London. When you were to be born, I did send for one. And she turned him away."

"Turned him away?"

"She wanted nothing to do with any doctor, and she was very cross with me afterwards. When it came to all your usual childhood illnesses, I didn't complain; except when Lizzy took pneumonia, I was going to send for one again in spite of her scruples. Sometimes, Mr. Jones was useful. More than half the time though, he stuck his nose in where it wasn't wanted. Between his professional opinion and your mother's superstitious dread, I was a stupid fool, a man without medicinal education, and my opinion did not matter."

"I didn't know you felt this way about him. I can say Mary would share your feelings."

"If I had known more, I'd have brought her to London myself. I'd have brought her long ago."

That quelled lump in her throat returned, causing the eyes to leak once again. "Papa, Mary is at a clinic. As we speak, she is in surgery. Dr. Reis suspects some internal growth must have ruptured. There is swelling, and she's other symptoms… which he says are signs of internal bleeding. This is the sort of thing, he warned us, that carries a high risk of infection. If she takes a high fever and cannot break it, she may not survive it… But I don't say anybody had much choice. It was either take the risk that she may die, or do nothing and she will die… Oh Papa!" Watching her father tremble, his head fall into his hand, broke the heart. Kitty fell forward, grasping his other hand, and gave into her own weakness, dropping her head onto his knees. His hand got free of hers, and enclosed round the top of her curls. Not even his dearest Lizzy, ever once, shared this with their father; they had never cried together.

When they did return from hours at the clinic, both Jane and Charles had gone more than a full day without sleep. Lizzy and Mr. Darcy were not faring as badly, but not much better. This was not wholly unexpected, but at that day and hour, all five of them facing Mrs. Bennet at the entrance hall, was inconceivably the worst time anyone ever chose. Captain Carter was unacknowledged and unrecognized for the first few minutes. Lydia almost bid him good evening from the staircase, but a newly composed Kitty caught her eye and silenced her with a look.

"Why has Mary not returned? Where is she?" demanded Mrs. Bennet. "Please tell me! I want to see her!"

Lizzy stepped forward, giving Jane and her husband a shake of the head. Explanation was neither long or minutely detailed, just enough, just like any doctor, kept in simple words for the benefit of the listener. To say Mrs. Bennet heard the whole truth with horror would be putting stating it mildly.

"Surgery! You—You, Elizabeth, consented to have my child, your sister, put through surgery! Who do you think you are? How dare you! I trusted you!" Multiple people attempted to interrupt. "I-I never should have let her come here. She was perfectly fine and well enough at home. Who is this doctor? How do we know he's of any decent reputation?"

"Stop this at once!"

"You hold your tongue, Mr. Bennet! Do you not understand what the Darcys have done? They've taken it upon themselves, to take charge of Mary's care, taking the place of her father!"

Charles interjected. "Mrs. Bennet, I think you are mistaken—"

"I'll thank you to bite your tongue too, Mr. Bingley! Just because you marry my Jane, or Mr. Darcy marries Lizzy, gives any of them the right to take our place. I'm her mother! I know her. I know her health condition, better than any of you! She was just fine when I had charge of her… Oh, Mary!" she gasped, sobbed. Ready for her collapse, Mr. Bennet stationed himself behind her with his arms poised to circle her. "Why did no one tell me? Is it your pleasure to betray me and watch my nerves torn to pieces! You've betrayed me! Betrayed her—"

"It was not they that signed the medical release." Everyone now turned wide eyes on the captain. "I did."

"Captain Carter, I hardly recognized you," Mr. Bennet answered.

"I signed her release, Mrs. Bennet," he confessed. "Mary signed the disclosure, acknowledging the risk of the procedure. We signed together, in dual consent to proceed."

"You? You! Why—Why would you sign? Who gave you the authority to do that? You are nothing to us, not even family."

And then, Lydia. Of all people. "Mama, he is family! They're married!"

"Married! Mary?"

"Yes. I'd have told you sooner, but I promised them. Well, what's the harm now?" she remarked, looking between the surrounding faces with a shrug.

Perhaps the greatest harm it could do was render Mrs. Bennet unfit to stand. Mr. Bennet caught her in arms. He, along with Charles, assisted carrying her to the drawing room, while Jane ran for her mother's kit of smelling salts among the luggage. Upon reviving minutes later, the hysterical sobs began again. Having too many people in the room, too many options to throw the blame wobbled a head already struggling for stability between the long journey and the bad news, along with very extraordinary news. She lay on the divan, reeling, realizing she didn't even know Mary's surname now. Captain Carter's presence had not been fully comprehended yet.

"Luke… Luke…" A hand strayed from under the airy sheet. His joined hers, a very cold palm and set of fingers, poor man. Perhaps it wasn't so very cold, but her head felt so heavy, weighted and heated. Little beads of sweat formed about the forehead and temples, which were attended to immediately with a wet rag.

"Do you want anything?" he whispered. Sedatives and a dose of laudanum would ease her but raise the volume of everything.

"Is it over?"

"Yes, it's all over. You did fine, just fine, dearest."

"Luke, please open the window."

"It's wide open, Mary. We've been having a nice rain, you see?"

"I love the rain."

He smiled. "I ordered it just for you. Will you try a little water?" A nearby pitcher came forward, with a fresh drinking glass. Holding her head elevated, a few sips were delivered to parched lips.

"Tell me…"

"There's no need to know now."

"Please…"

"Well, at least we have good news. Dr. Reis confirmed that the growth on the ovary ended up rupturing. Because of that, he spent a little time draining the wound. He did note some scarring on the organ, which goes without saying. Whatever tissues remained of the growth, he managed to remove as best he could; the tissues were examined. And the best news, there are no signs of malignancy."

"So no abscess?"

"Thank heavens, we've beat that in good time. We're about half way there now. These next few days will be crucial. You're going to remain here at the clinic, and Dr. Reis and his staff will monitor you. You're already experiencing a high fever."

"Yes… He did say... a possibility. Infection…"

"It's not good, but we're not doomed. Once you break the fever, Dr. Reis will keep you until you're stable enough to stand on your feet, and then release you to go home." Her eyes drooped again. "Mary, last night, your parents arrived. They're with Lizzy and Darcy in Grovsnor Square. You should've been there to see that. It was quite a commotion, but after it was all over, I couldn't help laughing. Everyone was trying to be delicate, break the news gently to your mother. And you wouldn't believe, just as she was losing her head about the surgery, Lydia just blurts out of nowhere that you and I were married."

Delirious enough already, there was a mild tremble to her breath along with a smile. "D-Did she faint?"

"Gloriously. I'm sorry, I don't mean to make you laugh. You shouldn't move too much."

"Oh Mama…"

"She was sent up to bed shortly after. I haven't seen them yet this morning."

"Give them my love. And your mother and sister."

"They dropped off some clothes for me last night. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were kind enough to put me up in your room."

"As only natural." Her cheek was tipped, and the lips cuddled with a kiss.

"Alright, enough excitement for now. I'll be here."

"Go home and rest. You'll just be watching me sleep… Colonel Forster will be expecting you back at camp."

"I've had some sleep. I'm just fine where I am, and you're not telling me otherwise. Hate to tell you, dearest, but you married a stubborn man."

"Of course…"

Over the next two and a half days, all members of the family kept watch on the feverish patient. Indeed, Captain Carter was stubborn to try and talk away from his wife's bedside. Lizzy, Jane, and Kitty tried to beg him away later that afternoon. The only one able to talk sense into him was the dowager, the formidable and lean figure of Mrs. Carter. She started to protest too loudly, which caused him to move the party to the hallway, accomplishing part of her feat. He would have slept slouched by the bed, and she fumed that he would do no such thing. Mrs. Carter herself brought her own pillow and a throw from home. The Darcy family had done plenty. So as nobody was overly exhausted, she would take her turn. Mary's sisters managed, between the three of them, to usher him out. Just as dutifully as her son, Mrs. Carter kept the rags rotating. At intervals, she'd rouse Mary enough to take a few more sips of water. When the nurse came in to restock supplies and evaluate the patient, a mackintosh was draped over and ice ordered. The shaking was so violent, and the delirium concerning enough to send for Dr. Reis.

"No," refused Mrs. Carter. "No, send to Grovsnor Square for my son. And send a message along. If it's to be got in the house, bring vinegar. Tell him if the Darcys do not have a large stock, go home for it. My daughter is at home. She'll hear him if he comes."

The nurse hurried out. Whether or not to send for Dr. Reis was debated, but one of the night watches set off running in the dead of night. Very few were sound asleep at the Darcy house. Candles burned in the drawing room and several bedchambers upstairs. Word passed through the butler and upstairs to wake the captain, very lightly asleep. He remained half dressed, with his boots by the door. The order from the clinic was obeyed, but as expected, the kitchen downstairs kept a supply only enough for the cooking. That demanded a trip back home, where his sister indeed did wait up and stocked him with several quarts. By the time both had arrived, they could hear from the recovery room Mrs. Carter barking to one of the nurses: "No, no, not ice," she commanded. "Just get regular water. Oh finally, you've made it! She's starting to convulse. Just dump it all in, now!"

Another one of the maids, who had removed the mackintosh and attempted to use the ice on the bath water was banished to draw more water from downstairs. Brother and sister uncorked the pints and threw the liquid into the newly arrived metal bathtub. Another nurse joined them, sent back downstairs for the carriage, grabbing one jug after another. This was repeated several times over between the three until at least one third filled with a pungent mixture of vinegar and water.

"I've got her," insisted Mrs. Carter.

"Mother, let me handle her."

"I'm perfectly capable—"

"No, Mother! We can't have the stitches torn and the wound opened again. Let me." He wedged himself between the two, carefully lifting Mary from his mother's grasp. "Ruth, get one of the pillows."

The sensation of lukewarm water suddenly wrapping round her body was a mild shock, almost as much as the stench that filled the room around her. A pillow was wedged behind her head. Mrs. Carter took a fresh rag, dipped it in the bathwater, and continued the compress to her head.

"I thought ice would cool her faster," observed Ruth in hushed whispers. "Why didn't it work?"

"Ice does work, but she's at the crisis," he answered.

"Why not ice in the water? It would bring it down fast."

"That's too dangerous. Ice water is too harsh a shock to the body."

"Vinegar works quickly too. Remember," bid their mother. "Nurse, the bed linens are soaked."

"Yes ma'am. I'll have them changed out in five minutes."

"You're doing good, Mary," he encouraged. "You'll stop shaking in a few minutes here. Try to stay calm. I know it's hard, but stay calm." He was not entirely calm speaking. Her nightgown had been entirely soaked, practically to transparency. Opportunity for Carter to pull the material taunt over the surgical site, examining it.

"How is it?" asked his mother.

"It's red, but not in streaks. Not hot to the touch. I can't tell, but it doesn't appear to be weeping. No pus."

"So we shouldn't have to drain it again, should we?" asked Ruth.

"Take notes, child," her mother murmured. "Ah yes, how do you feel now, Mary? Shaking less. That's good."

He wrapped a couple fingers round the wrist, waited, counted. "It's slowing…"

A relieved sigh passed between them, and the second nurse, standing with the last empty bucket in hand. "I'll still be sending for the doctor. He said fetch him if there are convulsions," she informed them. "Our night watch asks, if there's any message you'd like sent back home?"

"Yes…" He thought for a moment. "Tell them we still have a high fever, but we have some improvement. No need to alarm the house right this minute."

"Very good." Off she went.

"… Not every girl would submit to what you have, my dear. You are very brave, and you're doing splendidly. Your own mother would be proud of you." Mrs. Carter gently wrung her other hand. "She can't argue with you now about doctors, not when you've been saved by them. I must apologize to you. I did not judge you fairly. Hope that you'll forgive me for being too much of a mother. I was angry at you, breaking his heart three years ago. I thought you some frivolous little minx. But I was wrong… I hope we'll be good friends, you and I. Luke, you've not even given her a ring yet."

He smiled weakly. Had she not witnessed the rushed pace of the ceremony after all? "Not had the time, Mother."

"No matter, I suppose. You'd like a ring, wouldn't you my dear? And we'll give a nice party to mark the occasion. We have no piano, but I should think your husband owes you a wedding present. We'll make room for it. Ruth dear, will you tie up her hair before it falls in the water?"

Lydia's moaning and snores had Kitty up, reaching for her dressing gown and slippers. Aside from that, aware of the sound of the front door bell, going back to sleep was long since given up. At dinner, what scarce dinner it was, all the family had been gathered, including the Gardiners. Everyone had gathered in the drawing room. It now all had dwindled down to Lizzy, Mr. Darcy, and Jane. Lizzy had a chair near the window, with Rose in her arms and her husband, always his usual place by a window and a hand on her shoulder. Jane stood by the hearth, staring blankly into the fire with tea in hand. She practically jumped when Kitty tiptoed in.

"So, you cannot sleep either?" she surmised. Jane and Lizzy had been stirred too, and were in their dressing gown, all most informal. Mr. Darcy was more fully dressed but without a waistcoat. A rather odd scene to walk in on.

"No," yawned Kitty. "I want to, but I can't. Ever since the second ringing, I've been feeling sick and couldn't lay there and wait until morning."

"You'll be glad to know," said Mr. Darcy, "that the night watch came back to inform us that, though the fever is still high, they are seeing some improvement."

"Did he say out of danger?"

"No. Too soon to say, I'm afraid."

"Here's a chair, Kitty. Come sit," bid Jane. "I'll pour you some tea."

"Is everyone else asleep?"

"Abed, at least. Poor Charles, by the time he left to go upstairs, he had such a bad headache. No doubt all his running around and without enough sleep."

"I don't blame him," Mr. Darcy agreed. "My head throbs a little."

"You shouldn't have to stay up," said Lizzy. "You haven't slept in over twenty hours."

Between the three of them, Mr. Darcy proved more reasonable than their brother-in-law about going to bed. Not without a tap on the shoulder to Lizzy, to wake him if another message comes. For a time, no one spoke at all, as if they slept while still awake. Suitable enough for everyone. No one was in the mood or possessed the energy for thoughts, let alone speaking. The rain had let up at some point during the evening, displaced by a heavy-handed breeze that moaned softly. Some branches from the vine outside tapped against the window pane. Half an hour passed in this way before someone else nudged the door open. They must have heard Rose cooing and fussing.

"What are you two doing here?" gasped Lizzy.

"Oh, poor things. They must be looking for her," said Jane. "Come here, Lion, Chop. Come here, darlings." Down on her knees, she stooped to soothe the anxious chirps and murmurings of Mary's companions. Kitty joined with Jane, to set them off purring and kneading in their laps. "Don't you worry. She'll be back soon…" Her voice broke off.

"Oh no, please don't Jane," begged Kitty. "I've got nothing left in me."

"I'm sorry." With a hasty sniffle, she banished tears into Lion's furry head. "I'm sorry. It's nice of you two to join us."

"I wonder who let them out. I know that Carter closed the door behind him."

"I let them out." Lydia's voice came through the door. In she stumbled, yawning loudly, stretching both arms wide, and groaning at the end of it. "I couldn't sleep, and I was hearing them scratch at the door. Please, tell me there is some tea left. I'm so tired. The nurse got me up an hour ago because Matilda was crying."

Kitty tended to her, and another chair was dragged to the other side of the fire. They were forced to repeat again the most recent news.

"Well, that's some relief," sighed Lydia. "I hope it is good news, anyway. The fact you all are awake, I take it that she's not out of danger."

"Unfortunately not."

"Kitty, I… I also couldn't sleep. I wanted to say that I'm sorry."

Lizzy and Jane turned their heads at the word. That vocabulary, in that context, had Lydia never said that before? Kitty, just as shocked, graciously responded: "I didn't mean to be so harsh earlier. I'm sorry too."

"Well, that was pretty rude, I will say. Still, I can't say you have no right to resent Wickham. We're all tired and cross, after all." Quite the concession.

Lizzy sighed. "It probably would've been better, Lydia, if you had let that piece of news wait yesterday. We were trying not to overwhelm Mama all at once."

"I just figured she'd be happy. She was all up in uproar about the surgery, and blaming you for it. And she was about to fly off on Carter. Somebody had to set her right."

"I appreciate your defense. Next time, however, please just be patient. It would've been nice to let Captain Carter or even Mary break the news to her."

"Papa seemed pleased."

"Yes, he did."

"I think he always had a soft spot for him," Kitty recalled, smiling. "He wanted to invite him to the wedding, remember?"

"He would've come." Lizzy was sure of that. "You know, it does amaze me, what Carter told us just yesterday. I wonder what on earth inspired Miss Sothern to forward Mary's old letter? And Jane, don't tell me she's not so bad as we've thought. She's an awful person. A thief, but why? I wish I knew that much."

Jane chuckled. "I wasn't about to say that. I've been taught a great deal in these last few months. Summer does get rather hot up in Nottinghamshire, after all… No. She doesn't deserve anyone's defense. But perhaps, there was some remorse on her part. She could've chosen to do nothing about it. It was none of her business. Still, it proves, to me at least, some small goodness was still there. Or if not goodness, a good motive. It certainly does not redeem her, but I cannot thoroughly condemn her either. For Mary and Carter's sake, I am glad of that."

"But she's still wicked?"

"I'm not arguing that at all."

"I'd just like to hear you say it for once."

"Don't worry," interjected Kitty. "Jane is very capable of it, Lizzy."

"Kitty!" "Oh, don't be ashamed of it, Jane. It was deserved and everyone else would agree! You must tell them."

Jane would not be prevailed on, exasperating Kitty. Everyone had been so thrilled with hers and Georgiana's heroism, but sooner or later, they all needed to know the conquest of Miss Bingley. All their struggles, heartbreaks, and triumphs could wait. And wait they all did. By morning, another report came—from Miss Carter herself. Mary's fever had broken. Being still very weak, however, Dr. Reis followed late on the morrow with his report. Infection had been contracted, but it wasn't impossible to fight. His patient rallied beautifully. Now, it was a matter of building her strength again. She would be kept at the clinic, on a very light diet at first, to grow more solid and fortifying each day. Once capable of small steps from her bed, she was free to continue recovery and care at home. It would cause some debate between Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Carter, as where best to bring Mary later in the week.

Many tears of joy and relief were spread contagiously in the family circle. No one was ever so overcome, overjoyed, and humbled as Mrs. Bennet. Even if Mrs. Carter had been rude, she could be credited as a mother with sense. When awake and able to receive more visitors, in a firmer state of mind, Mrs. Bennet was at her daughter's bedside. An utter mess she was too, fawning over head, hand, and face. Mary lay calmly and placid, accepting everything being poured down, including her mother's tears. "I'm so sorry, my dear. I'm so sorry! Please, forgive me. I should have listened to you." She would never say that to anyone ever again, more than likely. Mary soothed everyone, all the family that visited. The sight of colour in her face again revived all her sisters. The only visitor at the clinic to bring Mary to tears, who could cripple anyone by looking at them, was Georgiana. "I'm so glad. And you'll be glad to know, she didn't get away. That copy she took, it's been destroyed now." She held strong at first, especially when telling the story of the exhibition's delay. It lifted the spirits.

"You were right, Georgiana. You were right all this time. I should've listened to you. I'm so sorry. You saw Rietta for who she is was, and if I'd been more skeptical, more discerning, I wouldn't have cared about the exhibition. I'd never have had my music stolen. I would never have gone. You've been a real friend, a better friend to me than I've been to you. I did not appreciate that, and hurt you..."

"Just a scratch, Mary… I really don't care. You're alive; that's all I care about..."

To Annilease: You made a point that I already came across in research. Yes, due to the lack of connection between the medical field and hygiene, the morality rate was very high. And that is not to say, based on what I've written, that vinegar alone was any kind of cure. It does and has had a long history of usage in home remedies. One of its benefits is being able to lower a high fever. If you guys watch the 1990s version of Little Women, their mother used vinegar to draw the fever down from Beth's head. And that attending doctor would've only bled her. Still, when it comes to cross-contamination, in modern times, Mary would've been treated with antibiotics. Actually, in our modern era, Mary's surgery would've been routine and minimally invasive, with much lower risks. Mary suffered the rupture of an ovarian cyst. Normally, that sort of thing resolves on its own without risk, but there's always a possibility that a rupture can cause internal bleeding and damage. If an infection resulted, yes, that would've very likely killed her. But surviving a surgery in that time, was a low possibility, not an impossibility.

Thank you all for bearing with me. The cliffhangers are over from now on! And everything made right between Mary and Georgiana. And Kitty, what shall I do with Kitty? Hmmm...