“Miss Jane would be just the type to do that.” Kiernan paused and fiddled with the dirt, stabbing it with his trowel. Then, looking Lydia straight in the eye, he said, “You are forgetting, though, that she is not alone. Susan, the kitchen maid, went to help her. Mr. Bingley is also out there helping your sister, and I do not believe that he would allow her to put herself in jeopardy. He loves her too much.”
Dropping onto her heels, her mind turned over the information that Kiernan had provided and she felt her face stretching in a wide smile. “You are right. He is rather in love with her, isn’t he?”
“He is far and away lost to her.”
“If only she could see how perfect he is for her.” Lydia leaned forward, about to pull at another weed when she froze in place. Then, looking back at Kiernan, she laughingly said, “Do you suppose this whole situation will knock some sense into her?”
Nodding his head, Kiernan moved around to the other side of the square flower bed to work on another section of weeds. “I would not be surprised if they were engaged by the time the quarantine is over.”
Returning to the work at hand, Lydia said, “I will hope for the best. Jane is more stubborn than people give her credit for. It is her smile, I think. Where Elizabeth will glare and frown, Jane smiles and keeps her mask in place, all the while not moving an inch. I'm worried that her own insecurities will hinder her from recognizing the love she has at her fingertips.”
They had almost finished the bed when Kiernan spoke again. “I would not have thought it would be more difficult to get Miss Jane with Mr. Bingley than it was for Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. Not with the way he kept blundering!” This had them both bursting into tears of laughter at all their memories of how often William had ended up with his boot in his mouth.
Chapter Nine
Bingley ached in every way possible. He was not used to staying in the saddle for such an extended period of time, but it had been necessary. After leaving the McGregor cottage, Bingley rode across Pemberley lands, checking on the various families. As he rode, Bingley finally realized the true size of Darcy’s property. No wonder Darcy had been so stressed when he had to take over the running of the estate after his father’s death.
Some families he spoke with were perfectly fine, though many had at least one member of their family ill. None of the families had been as hard hit as the McGregors. There were no additional deaths, and it appeared that no one else was gravely ill. It was a good thing, he supposed, but that did not stop the sorrow he felt knowing how much that one family had been affected. Though his body was sore from riding, it was his heart that ached the most.
In all reality, he worried more for Jane than he did anyone else. The other men had gone to the cottage to quarantine, but Bingley needed to check on Jane. He was worried not only about her health, but about her heart. Jane was at the core soft and compassionate, and she cared deeply about people. Jane wanted everyone to be happy and healthy and often became invested in helping others. It would be heart-wrenching for her to stay and care for the sick and dying.
It had grown dark while he was at the last house, but a full moon lit his way. As he approached his destination, Bingley could see the lights shining from the windows. If he did not know what was going on in the house, he would have said the home seemed to have a hopeful look about it, shining there in the dark. Coming down off the horse, he left it to graze before going inside. He knew he would only be able to stay a short time before going back to Glenn Cottage for the night.
Susan stood at the stove, but looked up to greet Bingley when he knocked at the door and came in. Keeping his voice low, Bingley said, “Hello Susan, how are you doing this evening?”
“Oh, hello, Mr. Bingley. I am well enough.” Gesturing to the kettle on the stove, she asked, “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Not at the moment, but perhaps before I leave. I want to check on Miss Bennet and the others first. How are they doing?”
Glancing in the direction of the sickroom, Susan sighed. “The children are managing, I suppose. Young Allen is not getting any worse, but I know Miss Bennet is afraid that Grace is falling ill. Mrs. Mercy, however, I do not think will last the night.”
Nodding, Bingley made his way to the sickroom and, after knocking softly, made his way in. He let his gaze slide around the room. Two children were asleep on a pallet on the floor. They did not appear healthy, but neither did they seem deathly ill. It did not take that long for Bingley to realize why Susan seemed to be so certain that Mrs. McGregor was not long for the world. Every breath she took was a gurgling struggle to draw in the air.
Jane was sitting on the bed next to the suffering woman, stroking her brow, her voice low and soothing as she said, “All is well, Mercy. Do not be afraid. I am here with you, and more importantly, God is with you. You are not alone.” Bingley watched as Jane dabbed a wet cloth on Mrs. McGregor’s lips. “It is all right to let go. Your children are safe and cared for. I promise that I will do everything in my power to see that they are safe and happy. They will never be alone in this world. You do not need to worry; all will be well. You may go in peace.”
Bingley stood frozen, unable to move from his spot as he watched the strength of the woman he loved shine through the sadness that permeated the room. How strong did you have to be to soothe someone in such a manner? Bingley was in awe of her. His heart ached for her, and he yearned to be by her side, offering solace. However, he resisted the temptation to interrupt the profoundly poignant moment.
It was not long before Mrs. McGregor released her last breath, and the room was full of silence. Propelled forward by the sorrow that he could see on Jane’s face, Bingley helped Jane to bring the blanket up over the woman’s face. Bingley’s mind searched for something to say to offer comfort to the woman he loved but found it impossible. He knew of no words powerful enough to provide solace at such a time.
Bingley could only stand before Jane, wondering how he could help ease some of her pain. Then, as if they were two magnets drawn by forces beyond their knowing, they both moved, and somehow Bingley was holding Jane, allowing her to sob quietly into his chest.
Sometimes life was just too heart-wrenching to bear. Jane burrowed her face into Charles's waistcoat, trying to muffle her sobs. It was impossible for her to remain stoic and serene in that moment. Moreover, she did not want to wake the children. She did not think she could face explaining their mother’s death when she had still not come to grips with it herself. Mercy had been such a smiling woman, and she had loved her children to the depth of her bones. The McGregors had been such a happy family, and now only the two children remained. How would they cope with such a traumatic loss?
Eventually, Jane realized that Charles was patting her back and crooning to her as if she were a child, and suddenly the world was not such a horrible a place. There was still light and comfort in the world and reasons to move forward despite the pain. Pulling her head back, Jane looked up into Charles’s eyes. She was surprised to note that his face was painted with tears, and his eyes were red rimmed. They were a pair, matching each other in their grief.
After some time of simply staring at one another, Charles said, “Come, you need of some respite.” Then, with an arm around her shoulders to hold her close, he shepherded her into the kitchen and settled her at the table. Bringing the basin over to her, he helped her wash her hands with the lye soup before washing his own. Drying their hands on a towel, he offered her his support in strength and silence.
Susan seemed to understand what had taken place with no explanation. Moving to the stove, she silently wiped away her tears. Returning, she poured the hot water into the teapot and then returned the kettle to its place on the stove. “We all need a nice calming cup of tea at times such as this.”
Soon, there was a cup of tea in front of each of them as they all sat around the table, sipping in companionable silence and grief. In time, Jane looked up from watching the steam rise off her cup of tea and saw that Susan and Charles were both watching her with concern. Smiling grimly, Jane said, “I am well.” She tried to smooth her hair away from her face with a sigh. When her hand encountered more of a mess than she expected, she settled for shoving her wayward hair behind her ears. “Mercy is not the first person I have tried to help who has died.”
Though she had known she would not be able to save Mercy McGregor, her loss still cut like a knife. Charles’s eyes sought Jane’s and his tired blue gaze seemed to emphasize his words as he said, “That does not make my need to comfort you any less.” Reaching out, Charles clasped her hand that lay on the table in his larger one. “What can I do to help? What do you need?”
Jane’s chin wobbled for a moment before regaining her self-control. Jane knew her mask was slipping and that everyone could see her grief. It took her a moment to fight down her panic at showing weakness. She reminded herself that Charles and Susan would not judge her. Looking into Charles’s gaze, she knew that he would never hurt her and, in fact, would be the first to protect her from harm. Taking a breath, Jane said, “I do not want the children to see their mother dead when they wake. Do you think it would be fitting to move her into the barn until she can be buried?”
Nodding his head, Charles said, “I am sure that would be fine.”
It was horrifying to think that the children would wake to see their dead mother lying there in the morning. She could not stop the sadness they would face because of their mother’s death, but she could protect them from haunting memories.
When Grace woke up, she looked around the room slowly. Based on the watery light she could see coming from under the door, she thought it was morning. She did not feel any better than the night before. In fact, she felt worse. Her throat hurt, and her head was fuzzy, but she ignored that in favor of checking on her brother.
Reaching out, she ran her fingers through her brother’s hair and was happy when he said, “Stop, Gracie, I’m seeping.” He then cuddled into her side, and she held him close, enjoying the warmth he brought with him.
Her relief was short-lived. As soon as she turned her head to check on her mother in the bed in the corner, Grace realized what had happened. The bed had been made up with clean sheets and a quilt she did not recognize, but it was empty. Her mother was not there. The only reason her mother would be missing was if she had died like her papa, grandma, and baby Patience. She was that much closer to being all alone.
Grace let her tears fall quietly in the dim morning light. She clung to her brother, her only remaining family, and tried to muffle her sorrow and sobs. Grace could not help but feel overwhelmed. Feeling sluggish and fuzzy made everything more difficult. There also seemed to be a great weight laying on her chest.
When the door opened quietly and Miss Jane walked into the room, their eyes met and locked. Grace saw the moment the woman noticed her tear-stained cheeks. In a rush, she came to the small pallet where Grace and Allen lay and said, “Oh, honey, I am so sorry.”
Grace liked that the lady did not act as if she was too young or stupid to understand. Not every adult would act that way. “What is going to happen to us now?”
Holding her arms out, Miss Jane asked, “May I hold you? Come here, sweetheart.” When Grace nodded her head, Miss Jane leaned forward and helped her to crawl into her lap. “I promised your mama that you would be taken care of. That means that I will make sure you and your brother are happy and safe. I do not know if you have any family nearby, but if you do, you might go to live with them. But I want you to know that no matter what happens, I will make sure you are both well and are as happy as can be.”
Grace closed her eyes and became lost in the comfort that Miss Jane was providing. She could almost believe it was her mother embracing her, even though she knew it wasn’t. It was still nice when Miss Jane started humming and rocking her back and forth when she cried.
