by Suzan Lauder
Thomas Bennet received the day’s post while sitting in front of his house, trying in vain to cool himself, but not a breath of a breeze was to be had that day. As usual for the climate, the day was hot, and the three little girls had finally quieted for their nap. He overheard Mrs. Bennet suggesting that Mrs. Akuete, who was with child, should rest during the oppressive heat of midday. He opened a rather thick correspondence that he had just received from London, containing a letter and some legal documents. Astonished at the contents of the missive, he summoned his wife.
“Come, Fanny, my dear.”
“What is it, Thomas?”
“Sit, sit. I received a letter this morning from the solicitors in London. I will let you read it, but I will tell you the important information first.
“It says here that a very distant relative of Thomas Bennet recently passed away in England. He had an estate in Hertfordshire that was entailed through the male line, and it seems he and his issue passed with no male heirs. His solicitors have advised that Thomas Bennet . . . I . . . am next in line.” He looked up from the letter to his wife as she sat on the divan. “The name Longbourn sounds familiar to me. Do you know of this uncle and his estate?”
“No, dear, I have not heard of it,” she said pensively. He sat beside her and handed her the letter. Thomas was quietly sorting his thoughts as his wife read through it.
“Oh, yes, I believe this would be my father’s uncle, Herbert Bennet. I never met him. As I recall, he was said to be an unkind man, and there was some kind of disagreement between the brothers.”
“Herbert Bennet . . . I wonder if this is part of the family history that Bennet related before he passed away.”
“It may be. You had commented that you also had distant relations in Hertfordshire, and you both had joked that may be the reason you looked similar to one another.”
“Yes, now I recall. Neither of us was intimate with the relations in Hertfordshire.”
“Because Hertfordshire is a long way from Gloucestershire,” Fanny said quietly, then looked up at her husband, “and Derbyshire.”
“Yes, my pretty wife, you drew the same conclusion as I.”
“Are you thinking of returning to England, Thomas?”
“Only if it pleases you, my dear,” he said slowly and softly.
“I would like that. But would we not risk meeting someone who knew you or my cousin before?” She furrowed her brow.
“We would have to take a great deal of care about where we travel and who we acquaint with. Even though Hertfordshire is a long way from our home counties, I am afraid we would spend our lives concerned about every new acquaintance.” He ran his hand through his hair as he considered the concerns flowing through his brain.
“We have spoken of this before,” he said. “We would have much to think about regarding the future of the girls, and the affect our need for privacy would have on them. Could we risk sending them away to school? What about their introduction to society? I could never consider taking such a risk as going to Town. And what if one of them should meet someone who knows me? Would we eventually be required to tell them our history?”
Mr. Bennet related only a few of his concerns to his wife. However, these and many others were not a surprise to her, and rather than acquiesce to his arguments, she decided to remind him of the advantages the situation had to offer. Due to her husband’s encouragement and support in helping her overcome the disturbances of mind from the horrible events in her past, she had begun to embrace some self-assurance and independence of thought, but she still was cautious in her manner and spoke her piece in a soft, tentative tone that sought his approbation.
“Thomas, we have talked about this. We both dearly want to return to England. You hate the heat here and the slave trade. Mary was so ill last winter with the breakbone fever, and I am worried that we could lose one of the girls to a tropical illness. I also fear for their futures as they grow into young ladies. The colonies are a rough society, and I do not wish to board my daughters away from us as so many of our acquaintance have done.”
Mrs. Bennet became more confident in pleading her case as her husband’s face revealed that he was of similar mind. “You have told me that you miss living in the country, and neither you nor I fancy the noise and dirt of such busy towns as Hamilton or London. We have been lamenting all we miss, but before today, we had not sufficient foundation on which to establish ourselves again in England, nor prospects of a location unrelated to our pasts. Were you to claim the rights to this estate, we could surely release funds enough to pay our passage. We could live much as we each had done prior to our bereavements and relocation. We could also have children of our own without worry.”
Several minutes elapsed in silence as Bennet continued to peruse the details of the correspondence. He related the facts as he had read them:
“The documents indicate an income of £2,000 per annum from the landholdings. The estate is not very large but prosperous enough to support a family. With our investments and the business interests here, we could live quite comfortably. We could easily let this house or sell it at a good price as the demand for housing in Hamilton is strong. You are correct; we can easily release enough money for our passage. The trip was difficult with two small girls, and now we have three, but we are in a position to afford a more comfortable set of rooms than the small quarters of our last voyage, and perhaps we could convince the Akuetes to join us. If you are willing, my dear, we could return to England as soon as an appropriate place on a ship becomes available.”
“I worry that someone will recognise you and I will lose you, my love, when we have only just found our felicity together.”
“Fan, you seem to be as convinced as I that we both would be much more content at Longbourn. Therefore, let us make a plan such as to avoid our greatest worries. Shelton and Bennet are not known in Hertfordshire, and even where Shelton was known, he is dead to them. If I live a quiet life as a country squire in Hertfordshire, our pasts should not cause us any undue hardship.”
Chapter 10:
Lydia wants to go to a ball, and the Netherfield party leaves for Town.
27 November 1811
Longbourn
The morning following the Netherfield ball, the Bennet family’s breakfast table was lively with the older sisters’ descriptions of the dancing, decorations and dresses. Lydia and Kitty raptly devoured every word. Mr. Bennet took a moment to enjoy the cheerful banter of his beloved daughters.
“Oh, I wish I were out so that I could see all this for myself,” said Lydia. “Perhaps next time there is a ball, I will dress up in my prettiest gown. Papa, when you see how well I look, you will let me attend.”
“With your impetuosity, I do not think it is wise for you to attend a ball so young,” said Mary.
“As much as I like to please you, Lydia, you have some growing up to do before you may be out in society,” her father added with conviction. “You know that I would prefer you to wait until Kitty is Mary’s age, and then I will consider whether both of you are sufficiently mature.”
“But it is not fair,” said Lydia, stamping her foot. “They get to have all the fun, and I am left behind with only Kitty. She is always sketching and reading and pays no attention to me.”
“That is the type of outburst you will have to control if you want to be out in society,” Mary said in a tone meant to admonish. “Your childish antics will not recommend you, even in Meryton where they know and like you.”
“Oh, I would be a good girl. Lizzy told me that I have already gained an ability to check myself before acting in a manner that would cause embarrassment to our family.”
Elizabeth countered, “Lydia, I will own up to saying that you have indeed matured well, and by the time you come out in society, you will have mastered the skills necessary for a young lady to represent herself. For now, we all appreciate your liveliness and are proud of your efforts to control your exuberance and impatience.”
“Mama, Pa
pa, please?” Lydia wheedled. “Can I attend a ball? I promise you, I would behave. I would not dance; I would just like the opportunity to see all the lovely ball gowns and pretend that I am a lady who is out in society.”
“No, my dear, I am firm on this point,” said her father.
“I am in agreement with your Papa,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Remember, you have three older sisters unmarried yet, and Kitty has precedence and will most certainly be promoted before you. At least one of your eldest sisters should be married before we add you and Kitty to the group. It would be considered improper to have all five daughters out at once.”
“I should not like to come out in society too soon,” Kitty responded. “I am concerned about the expectations that would be placed upon us. I worry that in my effort to be a proper lady, I would be self-conscious, and that would make me appear aloof and unapproachable. I would rather wait until I feel much more comfortable in company. For now, I am content to be useful to my sisters by assisting them in their preparations.”
“Perhaps next time there is a ball,” Mrs. Bennet offered, “you and Kitty could dress up as if you were going and have your own party at home. It would be a good opportunity for both of you to practise the dance steps and decorum that you would be expected to display once you are out.”
Lydia made no reply, so her mother continued, “And, my love, if you are a good girl, I will stay at home and play for your dancing. We can ask Cook to prepare some refreshments. What say you, Kitty?”
“I should like to help Lydia trim her gown in the proper design for a ball.”
“Kitty, we will be a merry pair!” Lydia cried.
Kitty smilingly agreed that they could have fun together, and that it would be almost as good as going to the ball. The two youngest daughters happily discussed the activity, and Kitty expressed delight about the chance to trim their gowns with ribbons and lace while Lydia was in raptures over the opportunity to play-act, even though it would be in her own home with an audience of only two. As much as she would enjoy pouring her nonsense into Kitty’s ear, she still wished she could attend a real ball but decided this small indulgence would please her for now.
Elizabeth mentioned to her family that she had seen Mr. Wickham at the ball, which caught the attention of Lydia, and they discussed meeting him at Aunt Philips’s card party. Lydia expressed dismay and embarrassment over not knowing how to disentangle herself from his inappropriate flirtation. She had been relieved when Mary skilfully came to her rescue.
“Although your initial reactions to Mr. Wickham’s forwardness could be improved on,” said Elizabeth, “your grace during the uncomfortable conversation shows your budding maturity.”
Mrs. Bennet agreed and offered additional compliments and good advice.
The discussion reminded Mr. Bennet that he had not yet shared Darcy’s revelations about Mr. Wickham.
“As you know, I am not one for dancing at a ball,” he began, “and although he made an exception with our Lizzy, neither is my friend Darcy. Thus, I had the opportunity to hear an account of his experiences with Mr. Wickham as well as his defence of the charges laid against him as related to Lizzy.”
Carefully wording his comments so as not to offend the sensibilities of the ladies, Bennet related Wickham’s true history to his family.
“However, that did not stop Mr. Wickham’s infamy,” he concluded. “Darcy told me of his dissolute behaviour towards young women, and in particular, Wickham very nearly disgraced a young lady of considerable fortune by attempting an elopement.” Turning to his youngest daughter, he said, “So my poor Lydia, you are not the first young girl to be gulled by the manipulations of Mr. Wickham.”
He continued speaking of Wickham’s gaming and spendthrift way of life and Mr. Darcy’s role in discharging Wickham’s debts.
Mrs. Bennet interjected, “Well, I for one, am more than relieved that we have already warned our neighbours about Mr. Wickham’s licentious behaviour, but now we need to apprise the local tradesmen of his tendency towards accumulating debts that he cannot repay.”
“I will be speaking to Colonel Forster about Mr. Wickham’s gambling habits and history of leaving unpaid debts behind,” said Mr. Bennet. “With his help, we can perhaps warn the tradesmen and his fellow officers to limit the extent of credit they allow Mr. Wickham.”
“But would that not put him into a greater state of poverty?” Elizabeth asked. “How would he be able to procure his necessities?”
“His wages in the militia would be sufficient to support him if he were not betting them away. Remember, Mr. Darcy gave him £4000 just three years ago. That alone could have supported him for many years. I do not have sympathy for a gamester.”
After more discussion in a similar vein, Elizabeth was persuaded that Mr. Darcy’s version of the story was more likely to be trustworthy than Mr. Wickham’s.
***
While Mr. Bennet was visiting Colonel Forster to impart the additional knowledge regarding Mr. Wickham, a note came to Longbourn for Jane from Miss Bingley saying that the entire Netherfield party had departed for London and did not intend to return. Caroline further implied that her brother wished to further his acquaintance with Miss Darcy and expressed her hopes for a match in that quarter. Observing Jane’s fallen face and concluding that disappointment was the cause, Mrs. Bennet cheerfully suggested that perhaps the Bingleys wished to be in Town for the end of the Little Season and Christmas, and that Miss Bingley’s conjectures were just that—her own hopes and not facts.
That evening, Mrs. Bennet told her husband about Miss Bingley’s communication.
“I am surprised that Mr. Bingley left without calling to bid us farewell or to thank our girls for their company at his ball,” she said.
“I admit that I am just as astonished as you are.”
“I am very concerned about Jane’s response to this news. I was certain she and Mr. Bingley were close to an understanding.”
“I had no doubt of it,” Mr. Bennet replied. “He singled her out at every opportunity these last weeks. I expected any day for him to request my consent.”
“Miss Bingley wrote as if their departure was planned, but we heard nothing of it until this letter.”
“Darcy mentioned it to me last evening, but he seemed to think that only he and Bingley were going to Town while the rest of the party remained at Netherfield, and Bingley was to return in a few days. But that does not explain the others departing so quickly without mention.”
“Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst singled out Jane with their invitation to Netherfield for dinner, and Miss Bingley treated Jane as a favourite. I wonder that they would not have given her some idea of their travel plans, unless there was a will to deceive.”
Mr. Bennet looked at his wife with an inquisitive expression, and she obliged him by explaining her suspicion of ill intentions in the affair.
“I am sure that Jane interpreted Miss Bingley’s expression of particular friendship as being in favour of the match, but Miss Bingley’s tone and carriage often seemed to reflect a sort of falseness in her words, and thus, I have been wary of her sincerity.”
Mr. Bennet replied, “My Jane is an intelligent girl and usually able to temper her tendency for making arguments designed to minimize the questionable motives of others.”
“But in this case, her perspective is altered. I am convinced that she is striving to show a neutral disposition despite feeling betrayed.” Mrs. Bennet paused and considered the letter before continuing, “Miss Bingley also spoke of Miss Darcy as a future sister, but Miss Darcy is much too young for such an arrangement to be made. She is Lydia’s age, is she not?”
“That is what I recall from my discussions with Darcy, and I am sure he would not have serious plans for her until after her coming out. He seemed to agree with me that young ladies should not come out too early.”
“Perhaps Miss Bingley’s own designs are behind her wish to have Miss Darcy for a sister. Miss Bingley has always shown a predilecti
on towards Mr. Darcy, and perhaps her speculation is just wishful thinking with no basis.”
“Darcy showed no partiality for her. Although he was quite guarded about it, I thought he might have a tendre for our Lizzy. I know what you are thinking, Fanny, that they argued a lot, but I think he was drawn to her spirit and enjoyed matching wits with her, and likewise for Lizzy.”
“You may be surprised that I agree with you.”
“Had Lizzy shown him any clear preference, I would have encouraged the match.”
“Would you have told him about Lizzy’s circumstances?” asked Mrs. Bennet.
“The will is very clear that we not disclose any details until all the conditions are met,” Mr. Bennet replied. “I hinted about it to Darcy, but his pride forbids him from contemplating marriage below his station, and we have not exactly forwarded ourselves in a way to gain entrance into the first circles. If Darcy has reservations, I have reservations, and I told him as much at the ball. I have my suspicions that Bingley will make his declaration as soon as he returns. But he needs to prove that he wants to marry Jane in spite of the obvious obstacles. I want the girls to be desired for love and not for money.”
“But surely Mr. Darcy has enough money and connections of his own?” Mrs. Bennet was more disgruntled than she was curious.
“It is for him to decide, Fan. Until he does, and pays her proper court, we can only watch.”
“He is a good friend to you, is he not?”
“Good enough that I can be frank with him. I warned him off paying Lizzy excessive attention unless he intended to further a match.”
“I never expected that marrying our girls would be so complicated!” Fanny cried.
“I do not feel they must be married so soon, certainly not Lizzy or Mary. They are still young enough to enjoy another Season or two before I give them away!”
“I am glad that each of our girls has the opportunity to attend the Season in Town.”
“And I am glad that you became my wife.” He leaned towards her and gave her a quick kiss.
