Page 28 of A Christmas Understanding

“It is a very small fire.”

It was not a large room. Elizabeth put the poker back on its hook. “I will have more coal brought in.”

“They will have to open the door and let all the heat out into the passage,” Miss Bingley said. “No. Leave it. And close the curtains.”

“They were opened at ten, as requested,” Elizabeth replied. She would be calm and patient, no matter how difficult Miss Bingley was. To show that she was irritated would not make the situation any better.

“I asked for them to be opened because this chamber felt like a cellar, but now it feels like a shop window.”

Elizabeth drew one curtain halfway across. This produced no comment, which was the closest thing to an approval she expected Miss Bingley would offer.

“Is there anything else?” she asked.

“Yes,” Miss Bingley said, “I require two notes written. Charles is useless in errands of this kind, and he has been putting me off for two days.”

Elizabeth located what she required and sat down at the small table in the corner of the room.

“The first shall be to my maid at Grosvenor Street. She is to bring the celestial morning dress, the puce one as well, and my own pillow, and she is to come today. I cannot think what is keeping her.”

Elizabeth, who knew from Jane that the maid would not be available, wrote the note anyway, made it sound rather kinder, and sanded it when she was finished. “And the second?”

“The second is to be addressed to Louisa. Tell her I am aware that she has invitations but that I require her presence here with me.”

“Do you wish me to phrase it in that way?” Elizabeth asked, her hand holding the pen suspended over the inkpot.

“Of course.”

“Very well.” Elizabeth could not imagine sending such a missive to anyone, let alone her sister, but as Jane often told her, not everyone was alike. She began by informing Mrs. Hurst that she was writing in Miss Bingley’s stead as the latter could not hold a pen, and that she was recording Miss Bingley’s words exactly.

“Add that Mr. Darcy has come every day,” Miss Bingley told her.

Elizabeth was sure that Mr. Darcy had come, reluctantly, because Mr. Bingley had insisted upon it, not because Miss Bingley was here. But that was neither her business nor her concern. She wrote the letter and sanded it, then stood.

She hated to ask but knew that she must. “Is there anything else?”

“The mattress.”

“I fear there are no other mattresses in the house that are not already in use.”

“I do not ask you to take one out from under anybody.” Miss Bingley said. “I only observe that it is soft. I am obliged to lie perfectly still upon it, and it sags.”

It was the first of Miss Bingley’s complaints to which Elizabeth was truly sympathetic. “I shall see if anything can be done,” she said.

But Miss Bingley quickly destroyed even that small bit of compassion. “You are so very useful, Miss Eliza. You have helped with the trays, the fire, the curtains—you have answered the bell without a word of protest. I suppose it is required when the household does not have enough servants to do the work.” She paused. “But then, you never did mind exertion. Three miles of mud, and you thought nothing of it.”

Elizabeth took a breath and eyed the poker. “You are fond of reminding me about that day, Miss Bingley. However, it was neither the distance nor the mud I thought of. I believe I thought only of Jane.”

Miss Bingley eyes widened. Elizabeth realised a second too late what she had said and yet could not feel as badly about it as she ought. The woman was in pain, and Elizabeth had resolved to be kinder. But unlike her sister, Elizabeth was no angel.

She had walked three miles across the fields for her sister. Miss Bingley’s sister had not even ridden three miles in a carriage for her. There was probably a reason for that.

“Is there anything else you require?” she asked again.

“That girl.” Miss Bingley said.

“Cora?”

“Is that her name? She breathes through her mouth, and she sets the tray down hard enough to rattle the window. Is she the only one you have? If I am to be watched over all night, I would rather it was by somebody trained to it.”