Mrs. Bennet returned to her chambers flushed and warm. Oh, Lord, how she wished for what her daughter had in her marriage!
*The majority of the Italian words in this scene are from The Marriage of Figaro and Don Giovanni, both by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, words can be found in the lyrics of the following arias from that Opera: Non piu andrai, Act II, Le Nozze de Figaro; Voi che sapete, Act II, Le Nozze de Figaro; Finch’han dal vino (“Champagne Aria; Don Giovanni, Act I)
Chapter 24
Fanny had arisen early, thinking of the evident felicity of her daughter Elizabeth’s marriage. Mr. Darcy was obviously besotted with his wife. It was quite apparent he did not think badly of Lizzy because of her wanton (Fanny realized she had no other word to describe what she had heard the night before) behaviour with him in his bedroom. Elizabeth appeared to be greatly in love with her husband. It was quite obvious, by what she had heard, that Elizabeth was happy with Mr. Darcy’s attentions--literally rejoicing loudly in her pleasure.
Mrs. Bennet was quite curious. She had never known that type of physical pleasure, had never considered women could feel such… joy… ecstasy. She began to contemplate whether she could find a way to speak to her second daughter about it. Dare she?
Fanny knew her long-established pattern of turning away her husband had become expected. Was her decision to turn him away partly to blame for the palpable distance between them? Was there a way to scale the wall she had so carefully built? Did she even want to attempt it?
After all, they were at Pemberley. It was here she learned what she had always suspected, that her husband loved another woman. It was here that their pain and their distance with each other grew to severe proportions. Fanny had not completely denied Tom her bed until a number of years later.
Fanny had discovered she was pregnant with her second daughter during that fateful trip to Pemberley. Her resentment of her daughter settled in even before her birth. Mr. Bennet had seemed to delight in the idea of another child, while avoiding his wife as much as possible. Fanny knew he had chosen to blame her for his self-imposed banishment from Pemberley and the Darcys. So, she blamed Tom for the child she carried, and grew to hate it. The pain of that time settled onto her second daughter even before her birth. If Elizabeth had been a boy, she would have been able to have victory over the pain. Yet, she was not.
Mrs. Bennet tried again thrice more to bear her husband a male child. She suffered his attentions in order to bear him a son… yet it did not happen. When she was with-child the fifth time, she had told him it would be the last time she would try. After Lydia was born, she simply denied her husband her bed. It had been a very long time.
After breakfast, Mrs. Bennet found herself in the Pemberley library. She had spent very little time reading books over the last twenty years. Her customs and habits had begun to reflect her white lie of a life. As she pretended to be silly and nervous, her activities began to reflect her role. The more she pretended, the more nervous and juvenile she became.
Why did I ever grow to be the childish, foolish, shallow creature I have become? she thought as she began to look over the shelves. Fanny had at one time enjoyed reading many things. She had enjoyed poetry, and biographies, and had always enjoyed novels. Today she was looking for anything that would tell her of romance, of the romantic affection she desired. Perhaps a novel? she thought.
She doubted, should the Darcy library have any literature that was more instructive in nature; that it would be out in plain view. But she chose to look anyway.
As she was studying the shelves, occasionally pulling a book out to read the title and peruse its pages, Elizabeth entered the library.
“Good morning, Mama. You seem to be looking for something. Might I assist you?” Elizabeth had actually been observing her for several minutes, trying to determine what she was doing here. For all of Elizabeth’s memories, she could never remember her mother looking through books in any library.
“Oh, Lizzy, I have never seen a library like this. It is quite exceptional!” Mrs. Bennet said to her daughter as she ran her finger along a shelf of books.
“Well, I have to say I was not aware you had spent that much time in libraries,” Elizabeth said with a grin.
Mrs. Bennet laughed, “Well, you would be right if you considered the majority of your lifetime. But before your father and I married, I studied a great deal -- about a large number of topics. I have always enjoyed reading poetry, and Aesop’s Fables were my favourite at one time. I actually enjoyed reading Milton among other things.”
Elizabeth rose her eyebrow, “Truly, mother? I had no idea. Why ever did you stop reading?” Elizabeth said as she walked toward her.
“Well, it is a long story, Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet said as she turned back to the shelf. She was little self-conscious, and unsure whether she could or should have such a conversation with her daughter.
“Well, I am at leisure at present, and would truly like to hear your story if you are willing to tell it. I can order us some tea. Would you like to sit and talk? I truly cannot remember the last time we did such. We talked a little before the wedding. I would like to get to know you, particularly as I am now a married woman and mistress of this estate. Would you like that?” Elizabeth asked.
“Why yes, Elizabeth, I believe I would like that very well indeed,” said Mrs. Bennet, with tears in her eyes, as Elizabeth rang for tea.
They settled into the luxurious armchairs near the fireplace, and soon the tea service was delivered. Elizabeth poured and they settled in to share with each other.
“Mama, I know so little of your early life with Father. Were you very much in love? I heard that you met at a ball in London, but little other than that.”
“Oh, Lizzy, my family was determined I would marry well. They assisted me in improving myself by extensive reading. I did meet Mr. Bennet at a ball. I saw him across the room, and I believe I fell in love with him at first sight. He smiled in my direction, came over to me and asked me to dance.” Mrs. Bennet paused to take a sip of tea, and Elizabeth offered her a biscuit.
“Your father, he was so handsome. I, of course, said yes and we danced that set and then the last. I was so excited to be singled out by such a fine man. He was there with his best friend that night, you know, your husband’s father he was. George Darcy was a nice-looking gentleman; but your Darcy is so much more handsome, my dear, even to my aging eyes,” she lightly laughed. “Why, I see much of his mother in him. She was quite beautiful…” she looked down a little sad. Elizabeth wondered what that could mean.
“Was Mrs. Darcy there as well? Were they already married at that time?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, she was there…” Mrs. Bennet whispered. “Lizzy, I was not of the ton. I was only a tradesman’s daughter. I had no connections or wealth, and was below Mrs. Darcy’s notice, I fear. I do not speak ill of her. It was what she was taught. But, she and I never truly spoke. We only tolerated each other. I always felt inferior when I was around her. Your father and George Darcy were such good friends. I do not believe they took note of the fact we did not ever become friendly.
“Lizzy, my daughter, you cannot imagine the joy I have at you being mistress of this estate. I am so proud of you. You are the consummate hostess. You have done quite well in attending to the needs of all your guests. I have no fear for you even exceeding the past Mistress of Pemberley, in your value to this estate and your husband,” Mrs. Bennet stopped to sip her tea.
“Lady Anne was a fine mistress, but I believe you will surpass her in every way. You generously share your warmth with everyone around you, and she would not have done that. I have never told you how much I admire you, your wit and your intelligence. I was never as wise or clever as you. I regret that I have not been the mother I should have been to you. Will you forgive your foolish mother, Elizabeth? For I truly love you, I do!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.
Elizabeth seemed somewhat startled by her words, but in response Lizzy reached out for her hand. Squeezing it she sa
id, “Oh, Mama, thank you for such kind words. I also know I have not given you the time or the chance to know me. I fear I have always been my father’s daughter, and did not give you the consequence you deserved as my mother. So, what say you to us starting over as mother and daughter?”
“I would quite like that,” Mrs. Bennet said. They drank their tea and they nibbled on biscuits and talked of Pemberley, of events in their family, small talk. Mrs. Bennet also spoke of books she had read in the past. She was attempting to work up to a conversation she wanted to have with Elizabeth. It was an improper conversation for a mother to have with her daughter, but nonetheless, she needed to ask Elizabeth a few questions.
“Lizzy, you appear to be quite happy with your husband. You seem to love him a great deal, and he appears utterly besotted with you.”
“Oh, yes, Mama. I do love William. I never imagined I could be so happy, so content.”
“I know the last time we talked you said you had no concerns, no questions or fears of your… ah… marital intimacy. Has that proven to be true?” Fanny was quite nervous about moving into this conversation and how detailed, how much she should ask her daughter, but she moved tentatively forward in her conversation.
“Oh,” it appeared that Elizabeth blushed deeply as she rose from her chair and walked toward the window. “I am quite content, Mama,” she said, yet she could not bring herself to look at her mother.
“Are you simply content, or is it everything you imagined? I remember being a little startled when we last talked. It sounded as though you and Mr. Darcy had been quite open in discussing the matter. I just wondered if it was all you had hoped it to be, my dear,” Fanny said with sincerity and hope her daughter would be willing to speak with her.
Elizabeth picked at the edge of her sleeve and turned to look towards her, yet still struggling to look into her eyes, “Oh, mother, marital love is glorious,” Elizabeth chanced a quick glance at her mother. “William is truly the best man I have ever known. But he is also loving and passionate. I have not spoken to anyone of this at all, Mama. But I imagine you know of what I speak,” she walked back to her chair, still unable to look at her mother in the eyes.
“I know the topic, my daughter. But I fear that I… I… do not know that much… It has not been my experience. I know I should not say that to you as your mother. But, I was taught… I was taught to simply lie still, be silent and you know, let it be over quick. I… ah… I… ah… oh Lizzy, I do not want you to be embarrassed, but I know that has not been your experience for I was walking by your chambers last night…” Fanny could not go on.
“Oh, heavens, Mama! You could hear us? Oh, Lord, do you think everyone…” Elizabeth said as she buried her head into her hands.
“No, dear, I was walking the hall as I could not sleep. I must have happened by at, ah… near the end, I suspect,” Fanny blushed more than she believed she ever had, and looked at her lap. “I am so embarrassed, Lizzy. I should not have been listening. I should have walked on. But I find that, I, wish that I… I want to know more. Oh, I do not know how to say it. I am mortified,” Mrs. Bennet stuttered.
“You, are mortified? Oh, Lord, I cannot let William know. He would…”
Mrs. Bennet cut her off again, “Oh, Lizzy, no you cannot tell him such a thing. And you know a little white lie never hurt anything!”
Elizabeth started to laugh, “Ah, white lies, well they have always had significance in my relationship with William in one way or another,” she said as she chanced a glance back at her mother.
Then she said, “No, I will not tell him you heard, certainly not! But… ah… Mama… are you telling me that you… that you have not felt... do not know... ah… pleasure? Is that what you are trying to say?” Elizabeth said, as she again looked around the room, unable to look directly into her mother’s eyes.
“Lizzy, I was here today searching your library for a book… for an instruction manual, maybe a novel or a guide, something. I wish to learn, and I am horrified that I am having this conversation with you at all. I do not want any specifics. I, it is just if you know… of ah… of anything that I could read…” Mrs. Bennet stopped.
Elizabeth thought, Good, God, I cannot believe I am having such a conversation with my mother! But she said, “I will… ah… see what I can find, and leave it in your chambers. Will that do, Mother?” Blushing profusely, Elizabeth was determined to change the subject quickly for she did not want to know anything of what she had heard, but even less, she did not desire to contemplate such concerns of her parents’ relationship. But, if she could help… She did know of a book she had in her chambers. She would leave it for her mother.
“Tell me about what you have planned so far for Jane’s wedding?” and Elizabeth and her mother spent the rest of the morning chatting.
*~*~*~*~*
As Elizabeth and her mother were spending the morning in the library, Mr. Bennet was restless and chose to walk the paths surrounding Pemberley house. He had dressed warmly, but as there was not yet snow on the ground, he walked and thought again of the extraordinary discovery of Anne’s letter.
She had cared for him. Did that help? Or did it make him more desolate? I think it helps. I did not imagine that she felt anything for me all those many years ago. It was her family, not her, that was determined she only to marry for connections and wealth.
But as Tom Bennet continued to contemplate, he could not forget the knowledge that she did choose wealth and connections. I wonder what our life would have been had we married? Would we have been happy? I most assuredly would not have been the man I am today. I would not have had my five daughters. I imagine she would never have been satisfied to live at Longbourn. Ah, I had never thought of that. She would not have been, would she?
Tom Bennet ventured toward the small Pemberley Chapel. He saw it in the distance. He put his hands in his pocket and allowed his head to fall in a circle around his neck, attempting to release a bit of the tension that he felt.
Lady Anne would never have been happy at Longbourn. Tom contemplated that neither Longbourn nor Stoke would have been enough. She would have desired the best, and he would have strived to give it to her. Living beyond their means, most likely exactly like his fears of what would have happened if Fanny had known of his wealth. Amazing! I had never thought about it in this way. Perhaps, just perhaps, my life has been better this way. No pressures from the ton. No attempt to make myself into something I am not. How I would have hated that!
With that thought, Tom Bennet tentatively smiled. He realized he might have disliked his life even more with a woman who was focused on connections and wealth. He would have spent his life struggling to prove himself, to gain status and connections. His life would not have been his own.
Fanny might be silly at times, but he truly believed she loved him. She had been a good mistress to Longbourn. If only she could have born Tom a son. But that matters not now, does it. The entail is broken; the estate will be equally divided amongst my daughters at Fanny’s passing. Why have I not told Fanny of it? Why do I not relieve her suffering? She has been everything that is proper since Fitzwilliam and Lizzy announced their engagement. I believe I have overlooked and been unfair to her.
Tom found that he had walked to the chapel, and his feet took him to the small cemetery on the side, the family cemetery. He looked for and approached Anne Darcy’s grave. Did I know this was where I was headed? He did not know, but he was glad his body had brought him there.
Tom Bennet had been at Anne Darcy’s funeral. He stood back in the woods. He did not want to disturb George, did not want to upset the balance his absence from the Darcys’ life had brought to them. But he had found he had to be there. Edward had written him of her death and had seen him there that day, but he was the only one. He was far enough away that he did not hear all of the ceremony, but he had wanted to honour her memory. Wanted to see if he could bury his feelings with her body. It had not worked.
He had hoped to be able to spend time a
t her grave. But it was not to be. George stayed there most of the afternoon, until it was dark; and Tom Bennet had decided he must leave in the soft twilight that day.
But here he was again. He knew he needed to let go. He knew it was time to bury his feelings at long last. They had done him great ill for far too long. So he spoke out loud, “Anne, I cannot thank you enough for that letter you wrote so long ago. You are right. My life would not have been as I would have wanted if we had married. I have always had an idolized view of what that life would have been, only thinking of the fresh feeling of love and passion. You did not feel the same for me. I know you felt something, but not as I felt for you. Not as Fanny feels for me.” Tom Bennet stopped and shook his head. Fanny loved him, he was sure of it, a deep and abiding love. And he had rejected that love throughout their marriage.
“I have come to tell you goodbye. To let go of your ghost, a phantom that has haunted me for much too long. Goodbye, Anne, goodbye,” and he placed his hand on her gravestone. A lone tear slid down his cheek, and he wiped it away. He was no longer sure whether he cried for the loss of Anne, or for the shame of rejecting his wife.
With those thoughts in his mind, he turned to walk toward the house. Contemplating how he could make amends for his neglect and slight of his wife and family, he returned to Pemberley and his bedchamber.
*~*~*~*~*
A little later in the day, he found William and Lizzy together in Darcy’s study. He told them of the break in the entail, and he and Fitzwilliam had come to an understanding about Stoke. Tom wished for them to have it, so Darcy agreed to take over financial responsibility and property management as well as ownership. It was apparent that it meant a great deal to his daughter and godson, and he selfishly hoped it would assist them in visiting Longbourn more often. He laughed with them, and hoped they were happy with this unique Christmas present!
White Lies and Other Half Truths Page 25
