Implacable Resentment

by Jann Rowland

  “I suggest you forget about the matter entirely,” said Louisa, her voice infused with an uncharacteristic firmness.

  Though annoyed that Louisa would show resolve about so critical a matter, Caroline decided that now was not the time to press the issue. There would be time enough to bring Louisa to her point of view should Charles’s interest in Jane Bennet become a problem.

  Caroline was confident that Louisa would see things her way. Louisa had always been open to persuasion before.

  Chapter III

  Throwing the offensive letter down on his desk, Edward Gardiner sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. As a man of business, Gardiner was well accustomed to receiving unwelcome news, and though he was now a very successful businessman, he had suffered his share of setbacks and disappointments. If only this letter brought news which was so innocuous as the failure of a ship to arrive or a fire at one of his warehouses. Those things he could deal with.

  Knowing that nothing could be gained from delay, he rang the bell to summon the butler and gave instructions to have Sarah join him as soon as was convenient. His wife would not like this any more than Edward did himself.

  Sarah joined him before he had an opportunity to brood much longer, which was just as well. She had a calming influence on him and was a true partner rather than a typical society wife.

  “I was about to go fetch Elizabeth and the children from the park,” said Sarah as she entered the room.

  Crossing the room, she approached him and bent over to allow him to kiss her on the cheek. Edward smiled at her and indicated that she should take a nearby seat. As she did so, he could not help but reflect that he had been immeasurably fortunate that she had entered his life.

  The death of his father during Edward’s first year at school had left the young man in possession of a modest yet prosperous business. Following his father’s wishes, he had completed the schooling for which his father had scrimped and saved since his birth. The elder Mr. Gardiner had hoped that his industrious son would use what he had learned to make a better life for himself and his future children. Understanding his father’s wishes and sacrifices, Edward Gardiner had determined from a very young age to honor that sacrifice, a resolution which had not suffered in the slightest due to his father’s untimely death.

  Thus, when he had completed school three years later, Mr. Gardiner had set out to fulfill those wishes, throwing himself into the building of the business to the exception of all other concerns. He had spent years building up his contacts, engaging suppliers, and traveling throughout the continent and even overseas to the new world. In that time, he had seen little of his family, for he had largely been away from London.

  When he had finally felt secure enough in his business’s position to settle down, Mr. Gardiner had allowed his thoughts to turn to having a family of his own. Hiring a few good men to do the travelling and contracting in his stead, Mr. Gardiner had, at the age of two and thirty, purchased a modest yet comfortable home. While the house was located in one of London’s less fashionable districts, it had the benefit of being very close to his warehouses. At last he had allowed himself the leisure of looking for a wife.

  Edward had the very great fortune to soon meet a young lady who not only captivated him, but who also had the distinction of being the only child of a prosperous businessman. Knowing that his daughter and her suitor were to be married for the greatest of affection and feeling relieved that his precious daughter would be cared for by an industrious and intelligent man of business like himself, Sarah’s father had consented to their marriage with alacrity and had immediately begun the effort of merging his business with that of his new son-in-law, increasing their joint holdings immeasurably. As glad as he was of the increase in his fortune, Mr. Gardiner was even more delighted with his wife, and he still doted on her as much as he did when they first married.

  “Now, Edward, what was so important that it could not wait?”

  “I think you will understand if you read that letter,” said Edward, gesturing at the piece of paper adorning his desk.

  With some curiosity, Sarah retrieved the letter and began to read. Almost immediately, a frown creased her brow; the expression soon turned to concern and then anger as she proceeded through the letter. The letter was brief—rather succinct, Edward thought, which was unsurprising considering who had written it—and it was not long before Sarah finished reading and turned to him with a glare mixed with sadness. The letter she discarded back to its place on the desk, as though it were nothing more than some offensive piece of offal, better consigned to the rubbish heap.

  “So, it has finally happened,” said Sarah, her voice flat and emotionless.

  “Indeed, it has,” replied Gardiner in a quiet voice.

  Sarah was not impressed by his seeming apathy. “The question is: what do we do about it?”

  “You know the situation as well as I,” said Edward. “If Bennet wishes for Elizabeth to return, then legally, it is his right to do so as her guardian.”

  Sarah regarded him as if he had grown another head. “Edward, he allowed Elizabeth to be treated by her family as an inferior, abused her for six years, and left her so fragile that it took us years to rebuild her confidence, and all you can do is sit there and say he has the right? From where I stand, he has no right whatsoever in anything to do with that precious girl’s life!”

  “I do not disagree with you, Sarah,” said Gardiner in a conciliatory tone. “But the law is clear. As Elizabeth is only nineteen years of age, her father still has authority over her.”

  “I will not allow Elizabeth to return to a house where her confidence will once again be destroyed!”

  “And what of Elizabeth’s opinion?” asked Gardiner in a quiet tone.

  Almost instantly, Sarah deflated, and her anger bled away. It was one of the things he loved most about the woman he had married; she was a warm and caring person, fiercely protective of her children. And she counted Elizabeth as one of those children, providing her with the love and support of a mother, though in reality they were more of age to be sisters than mother and daughter. Regardless, it was clear to all who knew them that Elizabeth was as much Sarah’s child as any of the four children born to her and her husband.

  But though Sarah and Elizabeth were close, Sarah had never been able to persuade Elizabeth to take her side regarding what should be done if Bennet should recall Elizabeth to Longbourn. Elizabeth had always been adamant that should it happen, she would return with her head held high; the Gardiners, on the other hand, had always assured her that they would fight such a summons should it be issued.

  Now, Gardiner was well aware of his brother’s financial situation, and though they had not spoken since Elizabeth left Longbourn, Gardiner had kept up with his brother’s business over the years. By all reports, Bennet had not made any effort to improve his estate, and his income was now, in all likelihood, less than what it had been ten years before. By contrast, Gardiner himself had been industrious in improving his own income, and it was now in excess of three times what Bennet’s had previously been.

  Thus, Gardiner doubted that Bennet had the resources to bring a suit against him should he refuse to comply. And if Bennet should be willing to sue him, Gardiner was confident that he possessed the resources to crush the other man and see his suit dismissed in shame.

  But Elizabeth, displaying a stubbornness which she had inherited from her mother, was firm in saying that she would not impose upon the Gardiners any longer. No amount of cajoling, pleading, or loving encouragement had induced her to change her mind on the subject. She was truly an exceptional young woman, and she was not intimidated by anything, least of all by a father she had not seen in years.

  But in Gardiner’s mind, though he recognized Elizabeth’s growth and her exceptional qualities, he could not forget the frightened, emotionally broken child she had been when she had come into his care. Perhaps she truly was as strong as the front she put up for others, but he was afraid tha
t when confronted with her tormentors, that strength would crumble like so much kindling in a stiff breeze. He feared for her.

  “She is still underage,” said Sarah, exhibiting her own brand of stubbornness. “We will fight this. She does not even need to know that her father asked for her return.”

  “We cannot act in such a fashion,” said Gardiner softly. He leaned forward and grasped her hand, holding fast when she would have withdrawn. “I know you love Elizabeth, Sarah. I love her also, and I have no more desire to see her return to that house than you do.

  “But we have agreed that we would not treat her as her parents have. Elizabeth deserves the right to choose her own path in life, and regardless of our love for her, our fear for her well-being, or our own opinions of what she should do, we cannot stop her.”

  Sarah seemed to deflate slightly, but when she spoke, defiance was still evident in her tone. “And if she is mistreated again?”

  Gardiner smiled at his wife, knowing that she would be reassured by his fierce expression. “Then we will remove her again, regardless of what my sister or Bennet should say on the matter.”

  Silence fell over the room as Sarah considered his words. But it was short lived, as she soon spoke.

  “You understand that I will still try to convince her to stay.”

  “I would expect nothing less. She will have my full support should she choose to ignore her father’s summons.”

  “Very well,” said Sarah, but through her stern demeanor, a hint of a smile shone through. “But you had best we aware, Mr. Gardiner, that I shall hold you to it.”

  Gardiner reached out his hand and pulled his wife to him, situating her comfortably on his lap. “I love Lizzy as much as you do, Sarah. She will be protected, no matter what the cost.”

  At that moment, Elizabeth Bennet was just entering the house with her young cousins after a walk in the nearby park. The late September weather carried a hint of the warmer weather of the summer gone by, but it had become cool enough that the party had been required to don light jackets to keep warm. Her younger cousins—boys aged six and five—might well have done without jackets, as their rambunctiousness more than made up for any chill in the air. Their elder sister, who was eight and well on the way to considering herself to be quite the lady, was having none of that. Holding Elizabeth’s hand, she walked into the house with a certain demure gravity, and after she kissed Elizabeth’s cheek, she left with the governess to return upstairs with her brothers. The youngest Gardiner, a child of three, was already in the nursery, waiting for her siblings to return.

  After depositing her spencer, gloves, and bonnet into the hands of a waiting servant, Elizabeth climbed the stairs to her room, making use of the chilly water in the basin in her room to refresh herself. After she had finished these tasks, she climbed up on her bed and sat back against the headboard, thinking about her life and situation.

  Her cousins were dear children, well-behaved and intelligent, and Elizabeth counted every moment spent with them a joy. In fact, she was blessed to live with her uncle and his family, especially . . .

  On instinct, Elizabeth shied away from thoughts of her family, knowing it would do no good to dwell on such thoughts. The fact of the matter was that the Gardiners were her family in every way that mattered. And they would continue to be so, she was certain.

  In an effort to dispel such thoughts from her mind, Elizabeth stood and approached the vanity mirror along the wall of her room. The image that stared back at her was a young woman, vibrant and full of life, a little petite, perhaps, but with a fair complexion and a wealth of luxurious brown hair swept up in the typical style of a young woman of her station. Her finest feature was perhaps her eyes, which were a deep brown and were framed by long, beautiful lashes. Or so she had been told by several admirers attempting to impress her and gain her favor.

  Elizabeth shook her head in exasperation. She had come out in society at the beginning of the previous season, and although the Gardiners did not inhabit a circle in which the finest of England’s society moved, they at least were able to introduce her to many who were of quite comfortable situations. Among their acquaintances, there numbered not a few of the gentry in addition to the men of business with whom her uncle associated. There were a number of men who attempted to flatter her with pretty words and happy manners.

  And Elizabeth was well aware that her uncle had hoped that she would manage to catch the attention of a good man who would marry her and provide her with the protection of a husband. But though Elizabeth knew that his worries were well-founded and his hopes understandable, she was simply not ready for such a step. She had never met a man who had interested her as she had always thought a prospective husband should, and she was determined that she would have the kind of relationship with her husband that the Gardiners shared. She was determined to never marry if she could not find such a man. It was perhaps a foolish sentiment, but she was not willing to relinquish it.

  Of a far more practical concern was her current age, as she was still more than a year and a half from reaching her majority. If a man were to become attached to her, he would still be required to apply to her father for permission to marry, and Elizabeth was not about to subject a man to such an application. She had no real reason to believe that her father would deny his permission, but it seemed best to avoid the situation altogether.

  Thus, she was determined to bide her time, living with her aunt and uncle and assisting by caring for their children as much as she was able. In time, she would think further on her desires for her future. But the subject could wait until she had attained the age of one and twenty, as her life up until that point depended on her father’s whims.

  The fact that she barely remembered the man was irrelevant. Considering what her life had been like at Longbourn, she felt that she had ample reason to fear what he would do if he should decide that her life was too easy and happy.

  A knock on the door startled Elizabeth, and after she gave permission to enter, a maid delivered a summons from her uncle to join him in his study. Smiling, Elizabeth advised that she would be down directly, and then she gave her image a final inspection in the mirror before she quit the room.

  The study had always been a favorite room in the Gardiners’ house. Not long after she had arrived in London, she had discovered a voracious appetite for the written word. She had arrived unable to read anything except what she had taught herself of her letters through her own infrequent opportunities and the clandestine assistance of the housekeeper at Longbourn. But she had quickly learned, and now she considered herself well-read, for her uncle—a lover of books himself—had laughingly indulged her love of books by buying as many as she could read. He had told her more than once that he was truly happy that she read more than novels, as he had never acquired much of a taste for what he considered to be such frivolous material. Elizabeth had no dislike novels herself, but she tended to prefer histories and some of the classical writers, which neatly meshed with his own preferences. They had spent many an hour discussing and debating the various texts they had both read. It was an activity which they both cherished.

  Elizabeth stepped into the study, to the smiles of her aunt and uncle, who welcomed her to take a seat, and though they appeared to be cheerful, Elizabeth was able to detect a certain counterfeit quality to their cheer. Something was troubling them, and given the matter which was almost never discussed between them, Elizabeth was certain she knew what it was.

  They talked of inconsequential things for several moments before her uncle finally leaned forward and addressed her:

  “I am certain you are aware that I have not called you in here to talk of such things, Lizzy. In fact, I have received a letter today which concerns you. It seems that my brother has called for your return to Longbourn.”

  Elizabeth nodded her head with a calmness she did not feel. Inside, she was a mass of roiling emotions, most of which she herself could not even identify. Amidst the maelstrom, however, she coul
d detect uncertainty, resignation, a little anger, and even some fear. She forced these feelings aside with a ruthless determination and acknowledged her uncle’s words.

  “I see. Does my father state exactly why he has seen fit to recall me after all these years of silence?”

  “Perhaps you would like to read his letter yourself,” said her uncle, leaning forward to hand her a single sheet of paper.

  For a moment, Elizabeth searched her uncle’s eyes, but when she found nothing, she turned her attention to the sheet in her hands. Unfortunately, the letter did not tell her much more than she already knew. Elizabeth’s memories of her father were somewhat disjointed, and her uncle had told her little other than what he thought she needed to know. This, she suspected, was due to his desire not to speak ill of another person rather than due to any affection or loyalty to the man. But what memories Elizabeth still possessed suggested that her father was not a man of many words, so perhaps the letter was not out of the ordinary.

  “It does not say much,” said Elizabeth at last.

  “Your father was ever thus,” replied Uncle Gardiner. “He is an especially indifferent correspondent.”

  Elizabeth’s mind was awhirl with conjectures of why her father would want her to return now after ten years. She had always known, however, that this was possible, and she had prepared herself for the eventuality. But it did not make this moment any easier, especially since she could not determine why she had been summoned.

  “Then I shall prepare to depart,” said Elizabeth in a quiet voice, moving to rise.

  “Elizabeth,” her aunt said as she rose with her and took her hand, “you do not need to go.”