by Don Jacobson
The Princess of Wales smiled back at him as she watched Charles climb up on the seat next to The Founder. She replied, “Now, Grandfather, you know that Mama’s whole point about not standing upon ceremony was for you and Grandmother to treat us as if we were dining en famile. Please, no more ‘Your Majestys’ or ‘Your Highnesses!’
“I see that you managed to be introduced to my son, Charles. I had hoped that you might have more of an opportunity to know him, but Grandmother and the Countesses have told me that you are planning on leaving for Home.”
The lady shook herself as if she was re-arranging her personality: to shift from the personal to the regal. The earlier affability was replaced with a distinct, albeit modified, formality.
The Princess of Wales continued, “Now, Sir Thomas, I must engage with you on a bit of, as Her Majesty Queen Victoria put it when dealing with your son, Sir Fitzwilliam Darcy, unerledigte Aufgabe—unfinished business. I am performing this on behalf of my father who, at the Queen’s request, has assented to this honor in recognition of your service to the Nation, the Crown, and Our Family.
“I will not ask you to kneel, Grandfather, however, I would ask you to bow your head. Since we are not in St. George’s Chapel, I will dispense with most of the folderol that normally goes with such ceremonies.
“Thomas Michael Bennet, Baronet of Longbourn, I dub thee Sir Thomas, Knight Companion of the Order of the Garter. From this day forward, you will be entitled to all heraldic honors due to those who have, by the Grace of God, earned this recognition. You will wear the emblems and raiment so determined by the Order.
“I would say that it may be somewhat complicated in your where/when if you desire to appear with the ribband and star. However, I will leave that to your discretion.”
With that, the Princess reached into the cab, tapping Bennet’s shoulders with her gloved had in lieu of the traditional cutlery. Then she draped a rich blue sash across his body from left shoulder to right hip. Finally, her mother handed her a velvet case, opened to reveal the great star. She again leaned into the passenger cabin, her son watching her every move. She pinned the star atop Bennet’s left breast pocket and moved back.
Tom was stunned at the honor so bestowed upon a middling country squire from Hertfordshire. Fanny sniffed.
Bennet said, “Your Royal Highness, you have done an old man quite proud. I would hope that you would express my gratitude to your father on my behalf.
“In spite of your earlier admonition, I must stand for I cannot remain seated before my Queen and my Princess.”
So saying, Bennet heaved himself forward and, resting a hand on old Tomkins’ shoulder, descended from the Ghost. He bowed to each of the ladies and reached out his hand to Fanny who placed hers in his for him to gently kiss its back.
Throughout the bowing and celebratory photographs taken by Mrs. Bennet using Lord Henry’s beloved Kodak, the young prince had remained in the automobile until his mother bade him to remove himself.
As the boy stepped down to the drive, he looked up at Bennet and asked, “I heard Mama call you ‘Grandfather.’ Are you my Grandpapa?”
Bennet paused and considered his reply. Then he said, “My good young sir, I am related to you, although perhaps at a greater distance than you can imagine at your tender age. I am pleased that Lady Bennet has taken some photographs so that you may refresh your memory of me when your Mama deems it appropriate.”
Fanny smiled and handed the camera to the Queen.
“As you were so generous as to give me a gift of peppermint which made me feel better, I would offer you something.” He unpinned his Garter star and replaced it in its box. He handed both the star and the ribband to Charles, “I would ask that you guard and preserve these emblems and favours which your Mama has just bestowed upon me. Perhaps when the time is right, you might return them to me.”
He handed the box and cloth to the boy who solemnly took it and nodded his acceptance before passing them to his mother.[cxix]
Matlock House
Mr. Justice Tomkins pulled the Ghost tight against the curb in front of the Fitzwilliam townhouse. Again, his grandfather moved around the front of the gleaming monster to open the door to hand Mrs. Bennet down and then her husband who did seem to be wilting under the excitement of the afternoon.
Bennet paused and turned to look up and down Mayfair’s thoroughfares as if he was committing the scene to his memory. Completing his survey, he turned to the older gentleman and extended his hand.
Taking The Founder’s in his own wrinkled one, Tomkins, with the confidence of advanced age, threw caution to the winds, choosing to address Bennet with the same degree of familiarity as he had his own dear Lord Henry.
“T’is been a distinct honor to have been of service to you, Mr. Bennet. I know that you and I have not had much cause to cross paths since you came to visit, but I would have you know that seeing you now reminds of my Mistress, Lady Kate. I can see that she was your daughter.
“Now, don’t be giving me the eye, sir. I have served the Fitzwilliams for nearly fifty years. Most of us have figured onto what’s what. Never you fear.
“Of course, while t’was clear that the Countess was born of you and Mrs. Bennet, I would have you know that t’was equally crystal that little Miss Lizzy was your babe as well. I had the pleasure of driving her and Mrs. Robard one day back in ’07. Then we all took the Persephone over to Deauville.
“I do hope that I did not frighten her showing off as I did with the House’s old powerplant!
“In any event, my seeing you completes that circle of father and daughters. Puts me to mind of old Argo patiently waiting for his master, that Ithacan king, Odysseus. Or the old folks, Simeon and Anna, who, in their last days chanced upon Our Lord when his mama and papa presented him at the Temple.
“Now I have seen that for which we have been waiting, my life is complete.
“God bless you, sir, and your good lady wife, too.
“All of us were sorely hurt when we lost Lady Kate. And then Viscount Michael and his family. Thank you for coming here to put things right.”
Tears sparkled on the old man’s lashes, and he pumped Bennet’s hand firmly one more time before releasing it and stepping back. Bennet reached up and tipped his hat in recognition of Tomkins’ accolades. Then he moved toward the staircase where two well-muscled footmen awaited him to help him indoors and across the foyer to the elevator.
The lift carried the Bennets up to the family floor. The two Bennets stepped from the conveyance, turned toward the chamber where the Wardrobe had been stored since its return from Deauville in early September, and came to a stop. For there, arrayed down both sides of the hall were nearly three dozen of their descendants. All were readily identifiable, whether light skinned or dark, by their distinctive Bennet Eyes. The multitude broke into applause as Tom and Fanny once again began to make their way down to the portal to the past.
They stopped to softly speak with various people at different points along the way, exchanging pleasantries or offering thanks. The closer they came to the Wardrobe’s chamber, the greater the consequence of those celebrating their passage: graduating from members of the cadet branches of the Bennet tree to Johnsons, Cecil-Darcys, Gardiners, Bingleys and Fitzwilliams.
By the time they had reached the Anubis team, Thomas and Fanny were choking back tears at the outpouring of love that had washed over them. Rather than attempt to offer a speech that would have disappeared in the wall hangings and plush carpets that lined the passage, both simply turned to their well-wishers. Bennet bowed and, supporting Fanny’s right hand, allowed her to drop into her precisely-proper curtsey.
Then they turned into the chamber where they saw the Fitzwilliams and Cecil-Darcys standing. The Anubis youngsters followed. The door to the present closed.
The room was packed with twelve, soon to be ten, persons crowded inside. Bennet made his way over to the men and solemnly shook each one’s hand. Fanny hugged eac
h of the ladies, bestowing kisses and blessings upon each. Then the couple switched sides.
Bennet stepped toward the Wardrobe but stopped to look down at his clothing. Fanny chuckled and chided him, “Tom, I cannot imagine that we will cause any sort of stir tumbling back into the Longbourn bookroom, you in your Saville Row bespoke suit and me wearing one of Miss Chanel’s tailored outfits. With all our girls away from home, the only soul we might encounter would be Mrs. Hill. She is so myopic that she would be hard pressed to determine which of us was standing before her.
“Once we get you settled in our bed, I will store these duds away in the attics to puzzle and confuse our descendants.”
Bennet’s eyes sparkled at his wife’s impertinence. Fanny could see that the Old One was not without humor, either.
He addressed the group, “My beloved family. I realize that I have offered up far too many speeches over these past few years, so I will be brief, and to the point.
“You have given Mrs. Bennet and I a great gift…well, you and the Wardrobe. T’is a rare thing for a man to be able to change his nature. This good woman standing next to me can attest to the fact that I am not the same person I was four years ago.
“And, t’is an even rarer event for a man to bring justice to one who has done a great wrong…to our family and to the world.
“When I determined to travel in the Wardrobe, t’was to allow Mrs. Bennet to see our missing fourth child. We were frustrated in that effort.
“However, we were granted the wonder of seeing our grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and associated nieces and nephews. We found those who had been lost. Celebrated weddings and births. Mourned those who had gone on before us.
“In other words, we have been living a second life on top of the one which we have been blessed to enjoy.
“Such visions. Such remarkable stories.
“And, t’is that word…stories…upon which I will make my last remark before Mrs. Bennet and I travel home.
“Stories such as ours have been immortalized, to be sure. However, despite Miss Austen’s great way with the language and her intimate understanding of human nature, her account of our family was necessarily only the tale of two of our own. The rest of us, I fear, suffered at the hands of dramatic necessity.
“Now, Mrs. Bennet and I are leaving to return to our story line whilst you move ahead upon yours.
“Live lives as if the Lady were at your elbow, quill in hand, recording your thoughts and acts. Continue to live as your Grandmother and Grandfather would have you do…even if you are of an age with each of us, for soon you shall not be.
“And now, before Mrs. Bennet drags me over to the cabinet, I take our leave of you. You have our loving compliments. And we have been most seriously pleased to have made your acquaintance.”
Fanny reached into her handbag and removed the same cloth sling Bennet had put together all those years ago, refreshed now after its contact with Winters. She handed her purse to Eileen who had stepped over, tears coursing down her face. Mrs. Bennet reached up and caressed her cheek, whispering, “I will write, sweetling, to set your course.”
Gulping, the Viscountess retreated into the secure embrace of her husband.
Approaching her own mate, Fanny situated herself between him and the Wardrobe, dropping the sling over his head. Threading her arms through the bight, she clasped him around the waist and snuggled her cheek into his shirtfront.
Mrs. Bennet whispered to him, “Tom, you have held me upright for years. Now, against the chance that you stumble and fall when we return Home, allow me to be the one upon whom you lean.”
Bennet’s tired heart swelled, and he raised his hands to the great marquetry doors.
And a thousand bees buzzed…and the pressure built...
Chapter LIII
Longbourn House, Meryton, December 29, 1815
She had been expecting that which inevitably happened.
Shortly after they had returned Home in late October, Bennet had bundled his wife into Longbourn’s coach and set off for Town and Gracechurch Street. On their way to the London road, they had stopped on Meryton’s High Street to gather in her sister and brother Philips. Fanny was excited to once again enjoy a family reunion.
Four-odd years in the company of distant family is no substitute for kin who are this dear to me. As much as I came to love Lord Tom and Lady Annie, Eileen and Richard, there is nothing like sharing time with folks—my siblings and their loved ones—who understand my where/when.
While there were entertainments to be enjoyed, Bennet’s true purpose was more pragmatic: to consult with Darcy’s physician, Campbell, about his prospects in the face of Wilson’s grim assessment. The young doctor’s face had fallen when he had been informed that his patient would be translating back to a world where bloodletting to balance bodily humors was considered the height of good medicine. Campbell confirmed the prognosis.
In addition, Bennet wanted to organize his family’s finances consistent with the adjustments suggested by Crawley. He assumed that Philips would not bridle at his demands. Even though he was widely derided as being a mere country solicitor, Philips had a first-rate mind and would find it curious to be presented with clauses cast by a well-trained, but unknown, lawyer to be inserted into Bennet’s will.
Bennet avoided the intricacies of the Wardrobe when he gave Gardiner and Philips his version of what was a well-polished version of the unvarnished truth; his time on God’s green Earth was severely circumscribed, and specific measures to protect his wife and remaining unmarried daughters from entail-induced penury.
Once the carriage had returned from Town, Mr. Bennet’s world reduced in ever-increasing increments until he rarely left his chambers. The majestic central staircase, long the manor house’s life core, had become as daunting as the great alpine wall piled across the frontier between the Swiss Republic and the Italian states, free once again with the Tyrant’s enforced exile on Elba. Fanny could sense the Old One’s hold on Tom’s spirit waning, its flood of ponderous power receding back into the hidden channels through which it had flowed since the last Age. With that, so, too, had faded the spark in Bennet’s eyes, and his spirit, long focused on the Anubis project, began to look ever further outward toward that far horizon inhabited only by those who had gone before. T’was an irresistible yearning.
At the outset of this last of life’s legs, Fanny had continued their practice of sharing a bed, but eventually she found that she could not rest through the night so fearful was she that she would awaken next to his chilling corpse. Mrs. Bennet had returned to the Mistress’ chambers, if only to gain a momentary respite from her efforts to hold her husband in this world. She had left the connecting door open and an oil lamp burning overnight so that she could check her husband’s well-being. Frequently, in spite of her resolution, mornings would find Mrs. Bennet snuggled beneath the protective weight of Mr. Bennet’s arm.
Throughout November and into December, Fanny had served as Thomas’ secretary, shuttling papers between his worktable in the library and a lap desk in his bedroom. Surcease was found shortly before the Natal Day when Lydia and Laura had returned from Dover after dispatching Lieutenant Wickham and Sergeant Wilson off to Vienna to serve on Brigadier Fitzwilliam’s staff. Mrs. Wilson proved to be a natural at motherhood finding ingenious ways to keep little Edward diverted. Mary also had returned from Rosings bearing little Annie Fitzwilliam. Fanny’s chicks were coming home to roost.
By this point, Bennet was entirely bedridden. He was so weak that he was unable to do more than lean on Mr. Hill’s arm as the old retainer half-walked, half-carried his master from his bedstead to the chair of ease. While the two men were of an age, the servant with over thirty years of manual labor in his bones looked decades younger than the master.
Those at Longbourn House who were unfamiliar with the intricacies of the Wardrobe, let alone the journey which he had undertaken, were stunned at Thomas Bennet’s wizened appearance.
Mary had arr
ived and had absorbed the profound changes that had transformed her father from the hale and hearty man so familiar to all. In an impassioned meeting over tea with Lydie and Laura also at table, Mary forced Fanny to face her greatest fear: that Thomas was near death. Expresses instantly were sent to Pemberley and Thornhill begging the Darcys and Bingleys to drop everything and rush south.
Now, with only two days left in the year, Fanny once gain sat at the great oak worktable that dominated the west end of the bookroom. She was rifling through the chaos which was Bennet’s filing system, something with which she had been wrestling for two months. With her worry about Tom tending to reduce her energy, and thus her attentiveness to what had seemed marginal, she had dealt only with those items of the most immediate concern to her husband. The remainder had been pushed to one side for later consideration.
However, her efforts to impose order had taken on a greater sense of urgency with the news that the northern force was due to arrive by day’s end. She knew that Darcy and Lizzy would assuredly want to review the estate’s ledgers. Those, she knew, were as up-to-date as a weakening Tom could manage. The books were stacked neatly on one corner of the desk.
One pile of papers that had collected in a tray on the opposite side caught her eye. T’would not do for anyone to attack those but her. Prying eyes and uninformed (Darcy’s) minds could misunderstand some of the potentially sensitive references that may have been laid down. All she knew was that these documents were amongst the last that Bennet had personally addressed after their return from Town in early-November and just before he had taken to his bed. She had little idea what had engaged her husband’s mind at that point except that he had been informed of his fate and had become resigned to it.
She reached out for the stack. Employing a trick she had learned from a certain Princess down the timeline, she flipped the hoard upside-down, only this time t’was to deal with the oldest first rather than circumventing bureaucratic trickery.
