“Even if that is true,” Mary replied, “it is still no small achievement. Especially when those emotions have been buried so deep for so long.”
“Perhaps. But if I have taught you something of value, I should like you to understand what I have gained in return. From you, I have learnt it is not enough simply to experience feeling. You showed me that one must find the courage to act upon it. There are times when happiness must be fought for, if we are to have any chance at all of achieving it.”
She took his hand and held it in hers.
“I am not sure I could have expressed it better myself.”
“I might add in my own defence that if I had loved you less, I might have ventured more. It was hard to be bold when I was only too aware of what I stood to lose.”
The room was warm, and they were both thrilled by their good fortune at finding themselves happier than they had ever expected to be. At that moment, there was nothing they wanted more than to sit together in loving, companionable silence. It might seem an unromantic circumstance; but in truth, there is no state that better demonstrates real firmness of affection than the ability to remain quietly comfortable together without conversation. And in such a situation of peaceful content they remained for some time, contemplating their pleasure in each other, until Mr. Hayward recalled something suddenly to his mind.
“Mary! I nearly forgot! I had so much to say to you that this completely slipped my mind.”
He pulled a letter from his coat pocket, and looked at it, as if surprised at its existence.
“When I returned to London, I found a great pile of correspondence awaiting me. I sifted through it with some trepidation—I still feared coming upon the announcement of your engagement hidden amongst it all. Instead, I found this.”
He handed it to Mary. It was short and to the point.
Dear Mr. Hayward,
I presume on our small acquaintance to take the liberty of writing to you. It may be a breach of good manners; but I am sure that when you have absorbed the contents of this note, you will conclude the intrusion is justified.
I believe it will interest you to know that yesterday I took tea with Miss Bennet. At the end of a conversation best described as very direct, she informed me that she had no wish to marry your friend and mine, Mr. Ryder, as she entertained no warm feelings for him. On the contrary, she told me she felt a deep affection only for you, whom she described as the one man she thought could ever make her happy.
As she went on to declare that this was a truth of which she was not ashamed, and with which I might do as I pleased, I have had no hesitation in communicating it to you, to act upon as you see fit.
Caroline Bingley
Mary lay down the letter, amazed.
“Well! I knew she was a bitter, angry woman, but I never imagined she would act in such an extraordinary manner!”
“Indeed. But it had a most galvanising effect upon me. As soon as I read it, I knew my worst fears had not been realised. You were not married to Ryder. Indeed, the letter implied you had refused his offer. And although I did not deserve it, it appeared my behaviour had not destroyed your feelings for me.”
He took the letter back and folded it up.
“I read it late last night and came here first thing today. Such was its effect.”
“But what did she hope to gain by it?” asked Mary. “I admit I do not entirely understand her motives.”
“She obviously hoped her letter would prompt me to tell you what I felt for you. And once we had declared ourselves, the field would be clear for her to press home her advantage with Ryder.”
“It was a very bold action,” replied Mary. “Even I am surprised that she would employ stratagems of this kind.”
“I cannot find it in my heart to be too angry with her,” declared Mr. Hayward, cheerfully. “I would have come here to find you whether she had written to me or not; but I came a little quicker and with far greater expectation of success than if she had never sent it at all. We must learn to live with the knowledge that there is the tiniest sliver of our happiness we will always owe to her.”
“It’s an interesting philosophical question,” Mary observed with a smile, “whether a good deed can be truly considered good, if it is motivated by malice.”
“A nice theological point,” replied Mr. Hayward. “I’m not sure it matters as long as it has delivered us such a very happy ending.”
“Is it very wicked of me to admit that knowing how much that would provoke Miss Bingley adds quite considerably to my pleasure?”
“It does not speak well to your morals, but your honesty does you credit.”
Then he took her in his arms again, and they found ways to express their happiness that required no further words from either of them.
Chapter 95
The satisfaction of the Gardiners, when informed of Mary and Tom’s good news, hardly requires description. That the two people, other than their children, whom they loved best in the world had decided to unite themselves with each other was as pleasing to them as can be imagined. The wedding was to take place as soon as it could be arranged, no-one seeing any reason for delay. The happy couple were to be married from Gracechurch Street, although both Lizzy and Jane offered to make their houses available, declaring either would be delighted to take charge of the arrangements. Mary was touched by their generosity, and knew their good wishes were very sincerely meant; but she was pleased when Mr. Hayward admitted his desire was for a London ceremony. She had spent enough of her life in her sisters’ shadow; and as a new chapter opened for her, she had no wish to begin it once again as their pale satellite, made invisible by the brightness of their dazzle. This time she would be the star, with all eyes for once on her.
A further advantage of a city wedding was the improbability of Mrs. Bennet’s being disposed to attend it. And indeed, as was expected, she wrote to Mary explaining that the state of her nerves would not permit her to make the journey. But there was in her letter a genuine sense of satisfaction. Against all expectations, she had achieved her life’s ambition—she had lived to see every Bennet sister married, even the daughter who she was certain would never find a husband, especially after the unfortunate business of the spectacles. She did not display much interest in the gentleman himself once she was informed of his circumstances. The mere fact of the marriage was enough to gratify her and bring forth what limited congratulations it lay within her power to give. It was not much of a blessing, but Mary was content to regard it as such.
Two further letters arrived from Hertfordshire. One was from Charlotte, expressing her good wishes with a warmth more polite than heartfelt. Her two boys were well, the new baby bouncing and healthy. The house looked even neater and smarter than when Mary was there and the rose arbour flourished mightily. Mr. Collins begged to be remembered to her. She concluded with an invitation to visit them at Longbourn, which both she and Mary knew would never be taken up. The second note gave Mary far more pleasure, because she knew the joy it expressed could not have been more sincerely felt. Mrs. Hill wrote that she had always known Mary would one day find the happiness she deserved—had she not often told her so?—and she could not be more delighted than to learn she had been right. She begged a slice of their wedding cake as a marriage favour, which Mary would not have denied her for the world.
Even Mr. Ryder was generous enough to send a short but cheerful note, the briskness of which he excused by reason of its having been written in extreme haste. He was about to leave for Italy, a trip they both knew he had long meditated, and which, due to the recent improvement in his circumstances, he now felt confident enough to undertake. He did not mention a companion; but it was soon after generally known that he had been joined on his travels by Caroline Bingley; and that the two of them were now established in a villa overlooking the sea outside Genoa, living as man and wife. There was no agreement as to whether they had actually undergone the rites that entitled them to be so described. Tom was sceptical, but Mary,
considering the power of Miss Bingley’s will, and influenced by her own wish to see everyone as happy as she was herself, preferred to believe that Miss Bingley had achieved her heart’s desire of being married to a man of wealth and position, by whatever means she had considered necessary.
Late one afternoon, a few weeks before their wedding, Mary found herself standing alone in an empty house in a north London square, where she and Mr. Hayward were to live after they were married. She strode through its rooms, spectacles perched unashamedly on her nose, notebook in her hand, measuring, thinking, planning. Now she stood in the drawing room, looking out from the large, long windows into the gardens beneath, imagining exactly how it should be arranged. There was just enough room for all their books—she should have hers situated on this wall, with a chair next to the shelves where she could read in the sun. Her piano should go here—and around the fireplace, she would have several large sofas, positioned to encourage both comfort and conversation. She was determined this would be a convivial house, full of liveliness, laughter, and good talk. It should be as much as possible like Gracechurch Street, a place where friends would visit often, good dinners would be served, and no-one would ever stand on ceremony. She should keep the tables well polished and she would have flowers upon them whenever they could be had. She smiled to herself as it occurred to her that for someone who had never expected to have a home of her own, her ideas about how it should be arranged were remarkably precise.
A home of her own. Her heart still beat a little faster when she thought of it. But that was nothing compared to what she felt when she considered the husband with whom she would share it. She and Tom were to be married. She had found a man she loved, who loved her in return. And here, in these rooms, in this house, they would make a life together. There were moments when she asked herself, as Lizzy had once done, if she deserved to be so happy. As she ran her finger down the window shutters, she felt one of those moments creep up upon her. A shiver passed through her when she thought of how it might never have happened. But this feeling did not last long. She had gradually discovered that the best response to glorious, unexpected happiness was not to seek explanation for its appearance but simply to embrace it and be glad. This was a new lesson, but she did not think it would take long to master. With a satisfied glance around the room, she made a final note and prepared to leave. She longed to tell Tom her thoughts for the wallpaper.
ALSO BY JANICE HADLOW
A Royal Experiment: Love and Duty, Madness and Betrayal—the Private Lives of King George III and Queen Charlotte
About the Author
Janice Hadlow worked at the BBC for more than two decades, and for ten of those years she ran BBC Two and BBC Four, two of the broadcaster’s major television channels. She was educated at Swanley School in Kent and graduated with a first-class degree in history from King’s College London. She is the author of A Royal Experiment, a biography of Great Britain’s King George III. She currently lives in Edinburgh. The Other Bennet Sister is her first novel. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Acknowledgments
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Part Two
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Part Three
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Part Four
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Also by Janice Hadlow
About the Author
Copyright
THE OTHER BENNET SISTER. Copyright © 2020 by Janice Hadlow. All rights reserved. For information, address Henry Holt and Co., 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271.
www.henryholt.com
Cover design by Jaya Miceli
Cover art by John Constable, 1809 © Album / Alamy Stock Photo
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Hadlow, Janice, author.
Title: The other Bennet sister : a novel / Janice Hadlow.
Description: First U.S. edition. | New York : Henry Holt and Company, 2020. |
Identifiers: LCCN 2019028704 | ISBN 9781250129413 (hardback) | ISBN 9781250129437 (ebook)
Subjects: GSAFD: Love stories.
Classification: LCC PR6108.A354 O84 2020 | DDC 823/.92—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019028704
First U.S. Edition: March 2020
Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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