12th November

From Caroline Bingley to Jane Bennet:

My Dear Friend,

If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with me, I shall be in danger of hating myself for the rest of my life. Louisa is unwell, and I have always hated dining alone. Come as soon as you can on receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.

Your ever,

Caroline Bingley

13th November

From Jane Bennet to Elizabeth Bennet:

My Dearest Lizzy,

I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones-therefore do not be alarmed if you should here of his having been to me—and, excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me.

Yours, etc.

13th November

Elizabeth Bennett dipped a cloth in cold water, wrung it between her hands, and applied it to her sister, Jane's, forehead and neck. 'I wish Mamma had not sent you on horseback. You appear to have caught Mrs Hurst's cold.'

A sheen of perspiration lay across Jane's pale face, as she lay limp against the pillows. 'Mamma was not to know it would happen.'

Elizabeth tightened her lips. 'You know very well Mamma wished for you to be forced to stay the night. She may not have planned for you to fall ill, but she did pray for the rain to prevent your returning home so that you would have a chance to charm Mr Bingley once more.'

Jane sighed and moved her hands restlessly. 'She means well, Lizzy. Do not be harsh.'

A tap at the door preceded the entrance of a maid. 'Beg pardon, Miss, the physician from London has arrived these 20 minutes past.'

'Thank you, Jenny,' said Elizabeth. 'Is he seeing Mrs Hurst first?'

'Yes, Miss. He's with her now and is to come here directly after.' Jenny bobbed a curtsy and left, closing the door after.

'There now, Jane. Let's get you ready for your visitor. A physician from London, especially for you.'

'For Mrs Hurst, you mean.'

Elizabeth smiled down at her sister as she adjusted the pillows. 'If your Mr Bingley was thinking of anyone, I would make a bet it was of you.'

'Do not say so, and he's not my Mr Bingley.'

'That is something else I would make a bet on,' said Elizabeth. 'You will see.'

Jane fought a smile which twitched at the corners of her mouth. 'Do not tease. It's not fair when I am unwell.'

'Very well, I will behave.' Elizabeth gave a final twitch at the pillows, and smoothed down the counterpane. 'There now, is that comfortable?'

'Very, my dearest Lizzy.'

Dr Williams was, at that very moment, feeling the first stirrings of alarm. On his early arrival, Mr Bingley had been most apologetic, saying he felt he'd called the Doctor out under false pretences as his sister was feeling suddenly much improved as of that morning, her high fever having broken during the night.

Mrs Hurst indeed appeared, at first glance, well, if overly tired. The fever had quite gone, despite prior symptoms corresponding with an acute attack of the influenza. However, after complaints of a sore throat remaining, his examination within the oral cavity proved worrying. His keen eyes spotted a tiny blemish. Further examination discovered more of the minute, reddish coloured lesions on her tongue and other places within the mouth.

Even more concerning, similar spots seemed to be forming on her forehead when she brushed her hair away from her eyes.

Dr Williams was very worried indeed. He knew what this likely meant.

He left the bedchamber and found Mr Bingley waiting outside. 'Ah, Mr Bingley. You say there is another patient with similar symptoms?'

'Yes, that's right. A young lady who was visiting my sisters last evening for dinner. She became unwell after being caught out in a rainstorm while on horseback.'

'Hmm… Very well. I'll examine her once I have thoroughly washed my hands, then we shall talk.'

Mr Bingley's face pinched with worry at the Doctors' words and his serious expression. 'This way, Doctor. I will show you the way.'

A short time later, Mr Bingley led the way to his study, where Mr Darcy was quietly reading a book by the fireplace.

As he closed the door behind them for some privacy, Mr Darcy stood and asked, 'Would you like me to leave, Bingley?'

'No, no,' he replied, distractedly, before pacing over to the fireplace and standing before the fire, hands clasped behind his back. 'Well, Doctor. What's the verdict?'

Dr Williams, his face serious, stepped forward. 'I'm afraid to say that Mrs Hurst - your sister, I believe – appears to have contracted the smallpox.'

'What?!' cried Mr Bingley. 'How is that possible?'

Mr Darcy, standing by a window, his back to the room, glanced over at Mr Bingley and assessed the situation. Quickly crossing to the sideboard, he poured brandy into a glass and moved toward the fireplace, forcing it into his distracted friend's hand.

The Doctor continued. 'We urgently need to trace the contagion and stop it spreading, although it may be too late for some.' He spread his hands and shrugged. 'At this stage of the illness, my suspicion is that it was probably contracted some two weeks ago.'

'Two weeks… two weeks…' Darcy pondered. 'Charles, two weeks ago we attended a party at Sir William Lucas's.' said Darcy.

'Then I shall need to pay them a visit and see if anyone else is ill,' said the Doctor. 'We may be able to trace backward to the source from there.'

Mr Darcy looked over at Mr Bingley. 'I will take him, Charles. You should remain here. We will leave momentarily.'

Mr Bingley roused from the contemplation of the glass in his hand, seeming surprised it was empty. 'One moment, Doctor, before you go. How is J… Miss Bennet? Does she have the smallpox too?'

'The young lady appears to be suffering from a head cold and sore throat, with a mild fever… but it is, ah… too soon to know if she has been afflicted. The first symptoms of the smallpox take the form of the influenza. In a few days we will know for sure.'

'I must inform her family,' muttered Mr Bingley, then he looked up at the Doctor. 'Does Miss Elizabeth Bennet know the situation?'

'I did not tell the other young lady my suspicion,' the Doctor said, before adding, 'There seemed no need, at the time. I wanted to preserve Mrs Hurst's privacy.' He hesitated then pressed on. 'There was one other matter… but maybe I should speak to Mr Hurst about it first.'

Mr Bingley glanced at Mr Darcy and then looked an enquiry at the Doctor. 'No, please continue. Mr Hurst is still abed.'

'Ah… Well, the lady is increasing.'

Mr Bingley looked surprised. 'She is?'

'Yes. It is as yet only some three months progressed - but adds complication. The risk of miscarriage increases with the illness and, unfortunately, is also known to increase the possibility of patient decease.'

Mr Bingley seemed lost for words and the Doctor hurried on. 'I will need to speak to Miss Elizabeth again on my return. We need to minimise any possible infection and as she has been nursing her sister it would be wise to take precautions.'

'Yes, yes, of course, thank you.' Mr Bingley was silent for a few moments and the other gentlemen waited for him to speak further. 'I will inform Mr Hurst and send a message to Longbourn. Darcy, you're for Lucas Lodge?'

Mr Darcy nodded. 'When you write, tell Mr Bennet I will return via Longbourn, in case he has anything to send for the Misses Bennet. I expect he will also want to speak with the Doctor about the situation.'

'Good. I thank you.'