(2023)
Pride and Prejudice
During Jane Bennet's stay at Netherfield, Caroline Bingley awakens with a migraine and remains in her room for the day.
Miss Caroline Bingley awoke in a most disagreeable state.
The insistent discomfort she felt must have drawn her out of her slumber. She opened her eyes a tiny bit and closed them again at once, moaning in pain. Keeping her eyelids down, she slowly turned her head from side to side. The way she felt immediately afterwards did not reassure her. She marshalled her strength and raised herself up on her elbows until the throbbing in her head was too strong for her to continue the effort. She slowly lowered herself back onto her pillow in consternation.
There was no doubt. Miss Bingley had a megrim.
Caroline had suffered migraines for several years. Many months would pass between episodes, so many that she was able to forget her susceptibility to them. She was rarely ever ill othewise.
What had she done to bring about this one? She recalled the evening before. Her attempts to gain Mr. Darcy's attention had been futile until she had the brilliant idea to use her rival's presence to her advantage. To her great satisfaction, she had drawn a compliment from Mr. Darcy, and in light of that, she could overlook the fact that the same compliment was paid to Eliza Bennet. Then everything fell apart, or fell back into its usual place, with Mr. Darcy and Eliza Bennet in conversation while she looked on, baffled once again at how quickly she had lost control of the exchange.
Playing the pianoforte had been a challenge. The urge to ball her hands into fists had nearly caused her to miss a note more than once. She played on, however, until the others were ready to retire. By the time she finished a second song, Hurst had awakened. He had been the first to leave. The others soon followed until she was alone in the room.
Caroline had been about to leave when she saw the decanter. Hurst had not emptied it for a change. She knew she ought not to indulge, but she was so angry! She poured herself one drink and then another. Perhaps she had had a third; she could not now remember.
And as a result, she had this blasted megrim.
If it were just any other day in the middle of November, she would have thought nothing of remaining in bed for the duration. It was not, however, any other day. It was a day in which Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy was under her roof, and so, unfortunately, were Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Jane, with her beauty and sweet disposition, was entirely too tempting to Charles. Her brother would not need an excuse to spend the day in her company and imagine himself more in love than ever. Caroline had been the one to moderate the growing intimacy between her brother and new friend: interrupting a tête-à-tête at the right moment; encouraging Charles to spend time with the other gentlemen in pursuits that did not include the ladies; mentioning discouraging details about Jane's situation and connections. Louisa would support her, but Louisa could not be relied on to take the lead in preventing such an unsuitable match.
Yes, Charles was a lost cause, at least for today.
So was her pursuit of Mr. Darcy.
Her one consolation was that Eliza Bennet had argued with Mr. Darcy again last night. The gentleman would soon tire of the lady's antagonism. To declare the man hated everybody! How ridiculous!
Well, to be fair to Eliza, Mr. Darcy did seem to hate quite a lot of people, or at least to tolerate them ill. If only he would love certain people, namely herself, she would not care whom he hated.
Thinking about Mr. Darcy only made her head hurt more. Fortunately, at that moment, her maid entered the room, took one look at her, and murmured that she would see that her mistress was not disturbed by the residents of the house and that the corridor was kept quiet.
After making certain her mistress was as comfortable as possible in the circumstances, the maid drew the curtains, built up the fire, and left Miss Bingley to the darkened room and the pounding in her head.
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