Alias Thomas Bennet

by Suzan Lauder

  “Lydia, my youngest, is sometimes naïve and impetuous, and at first she was charmed by his manners. However, the more he spoke, the less inclined she was to like him because she realised that the familiar manner in which he acted threw doubt on all aspects of his character.

  “My Lizzy heard Mr. Wickham with a more favourable ear as she was less of a mind to accept your good nature. She had long been determined to think ill of you, probably due to your remark at the assembly—do not scowl at me, sir; I assure you that once she hears the true account of events, you will have redeemed yourself, at least a little—and although she was not at all pleased with his overly familiar manner, she did own that his story held just enough truth to incite sympathy for him and disgust for you.

  “When we discussed Mr. Wickham on the way home from the party, I suggested to my daughters that we should not lend credence to his stories without further verification from a respectable source. I reminded Lizzy that your connections with Mr. Bingley and friendship with her own father would recommend you as an honourable gentleman.”

  “Bennet, what you describe as his overly familiar manner alarms me. I suggest you protect your daughters from being alone with him else they are in danger of being manipulated further. He has caused more than one girl to leave her family for a life of shame, and he does not restrict his intrigues to those lower than himself. I am aware of a circumstance in which a young heiress was very nearly ruined by Wickham’s design to elope with her in order to gain access to her substantial fortune. I apologise for not relating the details of this travesty, but I am sensible to the family’s worry about the girl’s reputation, and I do not have permission to recount the particulars to you. I have no doubt you would be outraged were you to hear the details of his scheme.”

  “Well, in that regard, I can report that Lizzy and Lydia used their wits to thwart his intended liberties—Darcy, calm yourself; I see that you are cross, as was I—but both girls were wary of the nature of his interest and did not fall victim. His bold flirtations were an insult to a proper lady, but my daughters were confident in their sense of propriety and were not hesitant to rebuff and chastise him. Their sisters were sensible to their distress and devised a diversion without creating a scene. My daughters are none the worse for it. It was certainly fortuitous that this occurred in company rather than during a walk in the woods!

  “Not to be outwitted by a scandalous rake, my daughters wished to defend other girls from his advances so took it upon themselves to tactfully warn our neighbours and friends to avoid him. The decision of whether or not to heed the warning falls to the families in the area; as I said, that gentleman has already made himself a favourite with his pleasing manners and engaging smiles.”

  Darcy spoke angrily. “The blackguard uses his flattery and charm to win people’s trust while taking advantage of their kindness and goodness. But there is another crime I must relate in warning, Bennet. Wickham’s imprudence in money matters has caused him to accumulate debts with tradesmen, and he has absconded from other counties leaving them unpaid. I have had to discharge rather substantial amounts in Cambridge, Lambton, and Ramsgate. The tradesmen of Meryton also deserve a warning that his word is unsound.”

  “You are far too generous with the scoundrel, Darcy.”

  “I admit to giving him many opportunities to mend his ways and become the man my good father had anticipated, but I have been disappointed too often. I have lost hope and will no longer shelter him.”

  “Your father raised you well; you have turned out to be an honourable man. Pray, would you care to join me in a visit to the tradesmen in Meryton and the men’s club? I should like to warn my friends not to extend any credit to Wickham. We should also advise Colonel Forster; he would not be happy to have such a disreputable officer in his division.”

  “I would like to oblige you, Bennet; however, I am to London to attend to urgent business matters and will be engaged for some time.” Darcy kept a neutral countenance, hoping his tone displayed regret, even though he was relieved to avoid further responsibilities related to George Wickham. As much as he enjoyed the company of Elizabeth, Bennet’s recognition of his admiration was incentive enough to quit Hertfordshire before Wickham became aware of Darcy’s feelings towards her and caused further damage.

  “It is just as well,” said Bennet, “that you are not involved in his exposure in Hertfordshire. With his resentment of you, he may devise additional retribution towards your family.”

  “If you think you can gather the information without alerting him, it is a good idea. But if he finds out and leaves the area, you can be certain he will find a way to take revenge. He is clever and without scruples.”

  “I thank you for the warning. When are you returning to the neighbourhood?”

  “I cannot say. I will stop in London for a few days to deal with some business matters then head to Pemberley. I miss my home, and it is difficult to run such an estate from afar.”

  “You are a busy young man! No wonder you do not have a wife; you never stay in one place long enough to recommend yourself, and should you meet someone suitable, you do not have the time nor the inclination for courting!” Bennet shook his head in mock sympathy.

  “I first need to find someone who inspires the need for courting, Bennet. The ton is lacking in ladies to my preference.” Darcy appeared resigned, but his voice expressed a lightened mood.

  “Yes, Elizabeth mentioned some long list of accomplishments you require,” Bennet teased his friend, “and I believe it amused her greatly that you had impossibly high expectations. She also admitted to being quite entertained with Miss Bingley’s attempts to show you that she met all the requirements to be mistress of Pemberley.”

  “Miss Bingley is representative of the manner of ladies who recommend themselves to me. They are handsome and fashionable, have had all the correct masters, and attend all the most sought-after soirees, but their conversation is insipid, and they are devoid of qualities that are dear to me such as sense and kindness. Thus, it seems I am doomed to remain unattached!” He said this with such levity that both men laughed.

  “When do you leave for Town?” Bennet asked. He saw that Sir William Lucas was moving to join them.

  “I plan to leave the day after tomorrow.”

  “You will be in London for the Season then?”

  “My position in society demands that I spend the greater part of the Season in Town, but I prefer the society in Derbyshire over the pressures of conforming to the whims of the ton. Were it not for the theatre, recitals and opera, I would be tempted to avoid London altogether. When I am away from Pemberley, I deal with quite a lot of correspondence, and I worry that I am neglecting my responsibilities.”

  “Do you not have other properties than Pemberley?” Mr. Bennet asked. Sir William listened with great interest.

  “Yes, sir, I own a house in town, smaller properties in Yorkshire and Scotland, and I am responsible for another estate in Derbyshire until the heir comes of age. I have very capable stewards in each location, but I am at Pemberley for much of the year, especially at sowing time and harvest, and I visit each of the other estates at some time during the year. Many people are dependent on each estate’s prosperity, and my presence helps to assure them of the master’s commitment to the ongoing viability of the estate and stability for future generations.”

  At that point, Sir William recalled a time when he was away from Lucas Lodge and his responsibilities piled up, even with his sons attending to many of them. This led to a story about his getting lost in London on the way to St. James’s Court. Henry Lucas and Mary Bennet joined them, and even though they had heard the story before, they enjoyed Sir William’s gift of telling a tale with animated expression. Soon there was a small group gathered and laughing at Sir William’s antics.

  Chapter 8:

  Thomas Bennet and Mr. Miles meet whilst on a long trip.

  June 1792

  Aboard the English vessel Valhalla

  En
route from Portsmouth, England to Hamilton, Bermuda.

  It was the third day of our voyage, and I was leaning against the ship’s rail taking in the sea air in hopes of fighting a mild bout of nausea, relieved that thus far I had not lost the contents of my stomach due to the unfamiliar movement of the ship. A deep, booming voice called out, “Good day, Bennet, you sorry old soul! Not feeding the fish today? Are you finally getting your sea legs?”

  I turned to see the ship’s captain approaching me with a huge grin on his face.

  “Excuse me, Captain, were you addressing me?” I asked as the captain stopped alongside me at the rail. I briefly noted this diversion had distracted me from my nausea: a sure relief.

  “Yes, Bennet, could you not hear me? Are you getting deaf in your old age?” The captain grinned and spoke in a teasing manner as he clapped a hand on my shoulder. His brown and coarse face crinkled as if it were accustomed to laughing.

  “I beg your pardon, Captain, but my name is not Bennet. You may have me mistaken for another.”

  “Not Bennet? You are mocking me, sir. I see you have not your walking stick with you, but . . . ” He squinted and leaned towards me, and his eyes ran over my face.

  “My word, indeed you are not he!” he said incredulously. “How strange! You bear an uncanny resemblance to my friend as he looked when we were in Cambridge together. I had momentarily forgotten his unfortunate injuries of late, else I would think you are playing some kind of trick on me! Bennet now has a bad leg, and he is missing part of his right ear; otherwise you are very nearly his twin!

  “Oh, I must beg your forgiveness; my manners have escaped me. We have not been introduced. I am Captain Wood, at your service.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Captain. I am called Miles, sir.”

  The captain laughed. “Mr. Miles, good, good. I am so very sorry to give you so much bother, but you do look shockingly like my dear friend from university, Mr. Thomas Bennet, most recently of Gloucestershire, who is also travelling with us to the colonies. Are you not a distant relation?”

  “I am not aware of any relation as you describe. It may be just coincidence.”

  “Or twins separated at birth, I say! Mr. Miles, you must give me leave to introduce you to Bennet during the course of this trip. You will then understand the source of my bewilderment, for seeing Bennet will be as if a looking-glass were placed in front of you!”

  The captain shook his head and continued jovially, “What confounded mystery drew you to precisely the spot I last saw Bennet? My friend was very ill yesterday and spent the morning relieving himself of his breakfast over the rail where you now stand. He was so weak his wife had to hold him upright. You, sir, are the ghost of his Cambridge past, haunting his sorry seasick side of the ship’s rail!” The captain barked out a laugh and seemed well pleased with his attempt at a poetic jest. “If you would care to join me for dinner this evening in my private dining room, I would be pleased to make the introductions.”

  “I would be happy to do so, Captain,” I said, thinking the captain’s company would be enjoyable and make the long journey to Bermuda seem less tedious.

  “Very good, Mr. Miles,” he replied. “I do hope you are not also seasick. If so, I can recommend some remedies you might consider.”

  “Thank you. I am just a little nauseous below deck: nothing that fresh air cannot cure.”

  “Good. Well then, I will likely see you walking the decks frequently during rough seas.”

  “During calm weather as well, sir, as I enjoy walking when I cannot ride or fence.”

  “Would you care to join me while I make my regular rounds?”

  “I would be delighted to.” I followed the captain’s brisk stride.

  “If you would not mind my asking, what brings you to Bermuda?”

  “I have some investments in the timber business that I am interested in developing further. I have a friend who owns a shipyard in England, and I am hoping to make an agreement with him for my cedar. And if I find it agreeable, I would like to call Bermuda home.”

  “Any other business interests?” he asked rather briskly.

  “If you are asking me about the selling of people for use as free labour, Captain, I abhor the practice. From observation and experience with a prosperous estate, I believe that the servant who is well paid and well treated, and free to leave service should he so desire, becomes a better man, a harder worker, more knowledgeable and more loyal. My estate depends upon people who care for it as I do, and I take pains to make it an enjoyable place to work. I hope I am as good a master as my dear father was and have loyal servants who wish to stay with the estate for many generations. Indeed, the man who is managing the estate in my stead is the son and grandson of my father’s and grandfather’s stewards.”

  “Although I agree with your sentiments, I must caution you to take care of what you speak. The trade of slaves to the Americas feeds many a family in Hamilton, and your opinions would not be welcome in most homes.”

  “Thank you for the advice. I will consider my companion before I speak my views, but I will not change them, sir. People should not be bought and sold like livestock.”

  Although the captain did not respond, his tone suggested his agreement, so there was no need to continue the unpleasant topic. We walked in silence for a short while as I reflected on the captain’s advice and considered framing possible polite responses regarding something I so abhorred as the slave trade. It was not long before a windlass drew my attention, and I broke the silence by asking about the design, and to my delight, he launched into a proud description of numerous technical details of this particular vessel until I was called to my cabin by my man.

  ***

  That evening at dinner with the captain, I quickly developed a familiarity and ease with Thomas Bennet. He was as jovial as his friend, although he had a hushed and rough voice in contrast to the boom of the captain’s. He did look a great deal like me excepting small differences in our noses; my hair colour was darker, and I was taller. He also had an ugly burn scar on one of his ears and walked with a limp. His young wife was exceptionally beautiful with high cheekbones, fair hair, and pale blue eyes that were nearly always hidden by long lashes. She was exceedingly shy, almost hiding behind her husband and not speaking throughout the entirety of the repast.

  Bennet invited me to sit with him the next day. Mrs. Bennet joined us; she assisted her husband to the cabin used as a drawing room as he seemed to have great difficulty breathing and walking. After settling ourselves, my new friend looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.

  “I trust you are well? No one lurking about the halls planning to collect a debt from me?”

  I laughed at his inference to our similarity in appearance. Bennet was bound to use humour upon any occasion.

  “Beware, Bennet; now that I know of your existence, I might be persuaded to get into some mischief in your stead!”

  “Please do not show up in Gloucestershire, sir, as I do not wish you to ruin my good name!” He laughed and then asked more seriously, “So what business takes you to Bermuda?”

  I explained my holdings and investments and that I might make Bermuda my permanent home.

  “Where will you stay in Hamilton?”

  “I plan to stay at the house of a friend until I can find something suitable.” I could not look directly at him whilst I told the falsehood. I would take rooms in an inn and then hoped to find a house for let. I had not time before leaving England to acquire a residence in Hamilton.

  “What sorts of property holdings have you on your estate?” Bennet asked.

  “It is farming mostly, some grazing and a small parish. My father maintained its prosperity, and as of late, it brings near £3,000 a year.” I kept to a simple response. I did not elaborate on my past or my other holdings; perchance some connection might cause secrets to be revealed.

  “And have you a family to support?”

  “I do. My babies are travelling with me and are below
stairs with their nurse. They are all the family I have left in this world. You see, I am in mourning for my dear wife, and I lost my father three years past.” I could feel the tightness in my chest and had to blink back tears.

  Bennet was sensible of my discomfort. “I understand your pain, sir, for I lost my own dear parents to a dreadful fire just one year ago. They were also surrogate parents to Mrs. Bennet as she was their ward for more than eight years.”

  “I am sorry to hear of your loss, Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet.” I paused, and his wife looked at me directly for the first time. I was affected by her gaze, but I soon recovered myself. Turning to her husband, I asked, “So you are also leaving an estate behind?”

  “I did inherit a large estate when my dear father died. When I was younger, he had attempted to pass on his knowledge of how to run the property; however, I am not one for taking an active role in managing the lands and holdings. As you see, my health is declining, but in any case, I must admit that I have been a somewhat indolent landlord.”

  I did not want to comment on his very frank admission of being a disinterested master, but since he had mentioned his poor health, I asked him about it.

  “Thus far, I am fortunate to have stayed on this earth for so long,” he said. “I was injured in a bad fire, you see, and my lungs have become very watery—that is also why I am lame—and I am not able to exert myself. I am embarrassed to confide that I require help to move about, not due to my lameness but from the lungs. My wife is burdened as a result, thus I often keep to my bed.