by Anne Morris
Elizabeth could love him from a distance and consider him the closest man she had ever loved—the only man—and the only one she had ever considered as a potential partner in life. But Mr. Darcy had not asked Elizabeth for that privilege, and that situation was not to be. The mail coach out of Aldgate thundered north to stop at various points like Edgeware and Watford and eventually came to a town close to Meryton. She noted not the posting inns, or her fellow passengers, as her thoughts lay on how to leap off a cliff in blind faith to find love.
When the coach stopped, and Elizabeth had to come back to her surroundings, she only had about a minute to point out her trunk to the coachman. She passed him a coin, and then the mail coach sailed away into the dark, and it was her and Albert, the footman. But the Longbourn carriage had been sent for her with that old groom her father refused to pension off standing next to it. He heaved her bag inside. Elizabeth thanked Albert (who would wait at the inn and return to London on the next south-bound coach) while she was driven home.
Elizabeth was met by Catherine and Lydia, who waited inside the Longbourn coach, two whom she did not expect to greet her. Elizabeth thought there must be news to share, and she was correct in that estimation.
“You have picked the most interesting time to be gone! Who knew Papa wanted a new wife. How could he think of such a thing!” Lydia complained immediately from the prime seat in the carriage.
“Really! He is so old, and Mrs. Meeks is so young, and we are all in such a dither about this whole thing,” agreed Catherine, who sat across and looked just as put out.
“We cannot say,” began Lydia.
“Papa is not so old,” interrupted Elizabeth, who did not wish to hear complaints. It was likely to be a long ride, even if it was only a matter of a few miles. “He is not yet fifty.”
“He is far closer to the grave than any of us think!” said always-brash Lydia.
“He may have many more years than any of us think,” Elizabeth asserted strongly, who did not wish to be stuck in a box with these two.
“Yes, but Mrs. Meeks,” whispered Catherine, who sounded as though she was confessing to a kiss.
“She’s been a good neighbor,” said Elizabeth.
“She’s not much older than Charlotte,” whined Kitty.
“And she has a son. He’s a beast!” snarled Lydia, who reached over to shake Elizabeth’s arm.
“It will be interesting to have a small child in the house,” commented Elizabeth.
“A child in the house?” blinked Lydia. Even with the carriage lamps giving a soft light, the two blank looks on her sister’s faces was so exasperating that Elizabeth felt like shaking both of them. The fact that their take of this entire transformation in their household had been so selfish—mortification of Mr. Bennet marrying a younger woman—that neither had considered that Daniel Meeks would be coming to live at Longbourn with them further infuriated Elizabeth.
“He’s to live with us?” cried Lydia.
Elizabeth simply nodded.
“A boy in the house, it shall be so disruptive,” said Catherine. “We don’t know how to have boys in the house.” She at least sounded as if she was considering the issue fairly.
“At least there is still the nursery up in the attic. We can stuff him there,” argued Lydia, who sounded as though Daniel Meeks could sleep in the barn for all that she cared.
“I am not sure Mrs. Meeks will want him there,” cautioned Elizabeth. “He is her son.”
“What will we do with him?” cried Lydia. “I spend enough time at Lucas Lodge visiting Maria, and there are so many boys there I’m not sure I can fathom having one at Longbourn.”
Elizabeth was not sure where they would put Daniel Meeks if not in the Longbourn nursery. But she supposed Mrs. Meeks would continue to see to his education. Perhaps he would have a tutor? The Bennet daughters had all been taught by their mother. But Daniels’ presence was to be an assured thing at Longbourn come Wednesday. Elizabeth wondered how the poor boy felt. He was getting five far-older stepsisters. They were only getting one small stepbrother.
“Do you suppose they will have more children?” whispered Catherine. Elizabeth thought that was probably Kitty’s biggest concern.
“I believe that is Papa’s intention,” Elizabeth stated. “Given Mrs. Meeks is not yet thirty, she is well able to have more children. But I believe she will be a good stepmother to us.”
***
Elizabeth arrived home to a house that was busy with assorted activities, and a home Elizabeth felt she did not recognize, in a way, as one of the drawing-rooms was being redecorated as a wedding present for Mrs. Meeks. There was talk that the mistress chambers had also been re-done, though she did not see those rooms. There were new gowns her sisters displayed that they were to wear for their father’s wedding and a lot of discussion about the wedding breakfast.
“I’m glad you’re back in time, Lizzy,” was her father’s greeting as Jane and Mary fussed over Elizabeth as she came to sit in the drawing-room. Mr. Bennet only came to kiss her cheek before returning to his book room.
“Are they to go on a wedding trip?” Elizabeth asked after her brief meeting with her father. Jane said she had no answer, but did not believe they planned such a venture. Elizabeth clutched her sister’s arm as she whispered, “it will be awkward if they do not go away. My room is next to the mistress’ chambers.”
“I agree,” replied Jane, whose pained and confused face reflected how Elizabeth felt just then.
The situation was more awkward even than that. The next morning, Mrs. Meeks came for her daily visit to oversee the final details about the wedding, the redecorations requested, and to move her final items to Longbourn. Though the other daughters had been used to her visits as the future Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth had to welcome her as her future mother for the first time.
Mrs. Meeks asked to speak to Elizabeth privately. In that conversation, she did not ask so much as tell Elizabeth that she needed to move out of her bedroom as Mrs. Meeks wanted Daniel to have that room for his own.
“You may choose to share with either Jane or Mary,” Mrs. Meeks explained. “But Daniel has already moved out of the nursery at Wheaton and has his own room. And your room is the closest to my chambers, so I need him there.” And that had been the end of the matter.
So the day before her father’s wedding, Elizabeth spent packing and moving in with Mary. Because of their recent closeness, Elizabeth chose to move in with her next youngest sister. Elizabeth explained to Jane that she felt Jane deserved the least disruption since she was losing control of the household. Jane, who had managed Longbourn since the late Mrs. Bennet’s death, would now be relegated to a daughter with few or no responsibilities.
Mr. Bennet and Mrs. Meeks married. There was a small wedding breakfast, and then Mr. Bennet returned to his book room as was his habit. But now there was a new Mrs. Bennet, and a little boy was living at Longbourn.
***
It was like the period after Mrs. Bennet’s death when all five daughters found themselves in need of definition or employment, but the ones which they had discovered for themselves before did not necessarily suit them this time. Jane could not take over management of the household as that became the former Mrs. Meeks’ job. Jane was without employment.
Elizabeth and Mary had spent a lot of time reading before and considering the afterlife, and they returned to that study. Catherine and Lydia went back to their more feral ways: hiding from the rest of the family. Though there was tension between the new Mrs. Bennet and the daughters (it was difficult for there not to be, given she was closer in age to her stepdaughters than to her husband), it didn’t follow that they all developed difficult relationships with her.
There was a little resentment on Jane’s part over the loss of her responsibilities, but it was not in Jane’s nature to hold onto that resentment. By the end of the summer, once the new Mrs. Bennet had established herself, their stepmother felt more comfortable at conceding a task or two to
her oldest stepdaughter. She also felt that Elizabeth and Mary were old enough that they did not need her guidance. Principally as they seemed such scholarly young ladies: whenever she discovered them, they were curled up with books.
The new Mrs. Bennet turned her attention to keeping an eye on, and giving instructions to the reluctant and resentful Catherine and Lydia who had long been used to having their own way. Lydia had been indulged by their mother and was used to not being told what to do. She also resented not being the youngest anymore. For all that she claimed that Daniel Meeks was a ‘beast,’ Elizabeth found that he was merely an ordinary boy. He was high-spirited and active, and Elizabeth had nothing to say against him. But it was a trying summer for everyone, except for Mr. Bennet whose routine changed the least.
But there was news that excited those two youngest and most of the young women in Meryton. A militia was to be housed in town. Most of the young ladies looked forward to having officers to flirt with, and the day of their arrival was counted down with great expectation.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The militia arrived in August and was a welcome distraction to Catherine and Lydia. When they could sneak away from Mrs. Bennet’s eyes and instructions, they ran to their aunt’s house who was effusive at taking them in. Mrs. Phillips resented Mr. Bennet’s remarriage. His new wife was not nearly as pretty as her sister had been in her heyday; Mrs. Meeks was merely a replacement wife. If her two youngest nieces came with tales of ill-treatment at the hands of their stepmother, Mrs. Phillips felt the need to offer them a haven away from Longbourn.
But Mrs. Phillips made it her business to gather information about all of the officers—where they were housed, what rank they held—and was a fount of knowledge about those red-coated men. Soon enough, Mrs. Phillips had her husband calling on them so that they could visit, and by the beginning of September, her knowledge became Lydia and Catherine’s knowledge about which were the tallest, the most handsome, and the most flirtatious.
Even the colonel of the regiment was not married, but those two youngest thought him old since he appeared to be past thirty. Captain Carter was passably handsome, but Mr. Denny, a lieutenant, had all the young women in town in a swoon with his golden brown locks and dark eyes; he seemed the man of every maiden’s dream. They could not wait for the next time that they came upon him in the street or a drawing-room. The maids in Meryton were dying; the young women all felt that they were dying at having to wait for the next assembly dance in September with all these officers to partner with. For once there might be sufficient men on the dance floor.
***
Each Bennet daughter’s day was different. Catherine and Lydia were supposed to be receiving instruction from the new Mrs. Bennet but did their utmost to slip away to visit their aunt. On the other hand, Mrs. Bennet directed her energies towards encouraging the oldest three to consider their marriage prospects. At times, Elizabeth wondered if her stepmother was taking up the spirit of the past Mrs. Bennet, or if it was something that their father charged his new wife to do as if he wished to get them out of the house. Mr. Bennet had at times, since their mother passed away, spoken to them about their duty to absolve him of any responsibility of their care. It could be that he had asked his new wife to see that they marry and leave home.
Mrs. Bennet decided that she needed help with the care of Daniel. The nursemaid who had come with them from Wheaton was dismissed, and a governess was hired. One of the governess’ additional responsibilities was overseeing Catherine and Lydia’s education, for it seemed that Mrs. Bennet had determined their education was lacking and that they needed further study. This did not sit well with either the seventeen-year-old or the fifteen-year-old, who had been chafing already about the hindrances that their stepmother put on them.
But Mr. Bennet was entirely in support of this idea. His daughters wondered why the governess was hired now when they had never needed a governess in the past. But it seemed the new Mrs. Bennet was far more economical than her predecessor. Despite the money spent on redecorating, the former Mrs. Meeks was not one to exceed her income. So just when those two daughters looked forward to running into Meryton on a daily basis to flirt with officers, they instead found themselves in the company of the awfully named Miss Blank.
They were further incensed to learn that they were to be denied attendance at the upcoming assembly dance where those officers were expected to make an appearance. Catherine chafed particularly about this as she had been allowed some freedoms the year before, though she had not been presented in a formal manner. Kitty felt that she was out in society and should be granted such privileges. The new Mrs. Bennet thought otherwise and that more instruction was required.
There were other hints that their stepmother was expecting Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary to do their best regarding flirtation at the dance. Mrs. Bennet asked about the people who were supposed to attend, and whether any of the three admired any one man in particular? Elizabeth thought that such a thing was absurd as it was to be the same set of people, and once again she was not likely to meet the love of her life—she had left him in London.
The Meryton assembly in September, the first after the militia had settled, was well attended by the officers. The young ladies in Meryton were greatly pleased with the complement of men they saw gracing the assembly rooms that evening. Most of the officers did their duty and danced all evening until the call for the last set, and, for once, it seemed there were enough men to dance with (or at least no young lady complained overly much about not having a partner).
Catherine and Lydia had to wait at home to hear about the sea of red coats and railed loudly to their three sisters about missing out on the fun. The fact that none of the three elder Miss Bennets seemed to be interested in officers further inflamed their hysterics at being denied their just due. After the assembly, it was a trying number of days at Longbourn, especially when other Meryton friends came to call. Mary boasted of the number of dances she enjoyed paired with an officer, and those friends boasted of which had the privilege of partnering the dark, broody, and coveted Mr. Denny.
September saw other changes, both at Longbourn, and in Meryton, and not just in the militia. There was news that an interested party was to lease Netherfield Hall. That estate, which had lain without tenants for some time, was readied for new occupants to take possession at the end of September. But new tenants were not interesting to anyone at Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet made a few inquiries, but other than hearing that it was a young man named Mr. Bingley, no one the former Mrs. Meeks asked knew much about him other than the fact that he came from the north.
***
Life at Longbourn was, on one hand, hysterical, due to Lydia and Catherine’s antics, noisy with the active Daniel Meeks underfoot, broody as Mr. Bennet hid in his book room, and quiet as the other three Bennet sisters did their best to avoid the capers of the other residents. Mrs. Bennet was charged with overseeing everyone’s happiness—or lack thereof—and she appeared to be weathering it tolerably with the help of Miss Blank. This was to change as Mr. Bennet received a letter from his heir, Mr. Collins, soliciting a visit.
Their father did not write to refuse the visit, but neither did he permit it either. But the young man appeared on Longbourn’s doorstep at the beginning of October stating Mr. Collins had come for an extended stay. Mrs. Bennet was suddenly charged with a guest and no room. Inhabitants were shuffled to accommodate Mr. Collins. Despite Mrs. Bennet not wishing to have her son reside far from her, Daniel was banished to the nursery with Miss Blank, and Elizabeth’s old room was given over to this visitor.
Mr. Collins was a vicar, but he was not intellectual or philosophical; he was ignorant and conceited. Mr. Collins said he was visiting to reach out and make a sort of peace with Mr. Bennet, as the heir. But his role as heir was in a tentative position what with Mr. Bennet’s remarriage to a much younger wife (and with the prospect of there possibly being a Bennet son now who might cut off Collins from inheriting). But there was no heir y
et, and the Bennet daughters suddenly found themselves charged by their stepmother to see to the entertainment of their distant cousin.
“I suppose it must be difficult for her,” Jane began one morning as they finished dressing. “The pressure that she…” Jane blushed without finishing her sentence.
“Yes,” agreed Mary. “I imagine it must be wearisome with Mr. Collins looking at her and trying to determine if she is with child.”
“Mary!” Jane exclaimed, blushing even more.
“I cannot believe his audacity to come. He knew Papa remarried. He should have stayed away,” explained Elizabeth.
“But he is here, and Mrs. Bennet has charged us with his entertainment,” said Jane, who finished buttoning up Elizabeth’s dress. “I still feel sorry for her. It cannot be easy.”
“I fear that Mrs. Bennet is attempting to marry us off and would happily let Mr. Collins take one of us off of her hands,” grumbled Elizabeth.
“He would be a suitable partner,” Mary revealed, “if he was, for certain, to inherit Longbourn. But now that there is a new Mrs. Bennet, his prospects are not nearly as reliable.”
Collins was talkative but had nothing of interest to say. But he was the sort of man who assumed people would want to hear his views on whatever topic crossed his mind. Mr. Collins was constantly in Mr. Bennet’s study to speak to his master if he had no other employment.
Mrs. Bennet gave her stepdaughters the responsibility of keeping Mr. Collins from bothering their father too much. On any walk, whether it be in the countryside or into the village, Mrs. Bennet was sure to ask the sisters to take him with them. Even if they were visiting a friend, Mrs. Bennet asked that they bring him along and introduce Mr. Collins to their Meryton neighbors. It was very irksome.
