Chapter 20

B y the time Bennet arrived back in Brighton, not only had all of the London papers carried the notice, but the papers had begun to reach many regions of England.

One such location was the Wild Stallion Inn in the small town of Mintin Glen in Monmouthshire, Wales. One who held himself out as Gregory Wright had put his familiarity with horses to use and taken a position at the inn to care for the horses. He was very careful to peruse the newspapers each day. In particular, The Cambrian , which arrived at the inn each morning, repeated any significant news from the London papers, and Wickham made sure to always read a copy soon after it arrived.

To evade any possible pursuit, Wickham had taken seven different post coaches, and at times, when the next town was not too far, he had walked so if he was traced, the trail would go cold at the point he had alighted from the post. He was very careful to do nothing which would get him noticed. His last ride on the post, which had only left him three pounds of the money he had received for the horse, had taken him into Wales. It had stopped at an inn in Glamorganshire, only about five miles from Mintin Glen. He had walked, but only at night, spreading the journey out over two nights.

Satisfied he had not been followed; he had taken the position at the Wild Stallion Inn using the name Gregory Wright. As he had since he had made his escape, he did nothing to draw attention to himself. He kept to himself and did not indulge in any of the vices he normally would have .

This particular morning, as he had every morning since his arrival, he sat around the table behind the kitchen where those employed at the inn ate. The paper was on the table in front of him while he enjoyed the thick porridge with a large dollop of honey before he helped himself to some fresh bread and a hunk of cheese. Thankfully, like most of the rest around the table, Paul, the groom sitting next to him, was illiterate.

“I says, Wright, that there fellow looks a little like you, do he not?” Paul pointed to a likeness below the article on the front page.

As nonchalantly as he was able, Wickham looked down at the likeness. He had to use every fibre of his being to school his features. It was him! Taken from the miniature old Mr Darcy had kept at Darcy House! How the hades did it come to be in the paper? Thank goodness he looked like a gentleman there, very different from how he looked now.

“Nah, that be a gent,” Wickham said in his put on accent. “I aint no toff.” Meanwhile he finished his food much quicker than he normally did. He knew if he got up and ran from the table it would only invite questions. Thankfully, the groom made no further comments about the picture in the paper.

As calmly as he was able, Wickham walked towards the stables while he read the paper. When he came to the part that named the one who had spoiled his ability to earn his reward, he almost loosed some expletives aloud, but stopped himself when he realised that would attract unwanted notice. Not only was she alive, with only a broken leg, but she was a damned duchess now. At least he was safe from the former baron’s retribution for failing him as the man was dead, and by now all of his men were in hell, either having been cut down on the day of the aborted kidnapping, or having been dispatched by the executioner at the Tower.

What was he to do? Unlike Paul, the owners and many of the patrons of the Wild Stallion could read and would recognise him on seeing his likeness in the papers. There was no choice, he needed to execute the escape plan he had formulated for ‘just in case,’ and now was the time. He made his way into the kitchen. No one looked at him askance as he had been seen there many times. Knowing the landlord was seeing to his patrons’ morning meal and his wife was in their residence, Wickham slipped into the office off the hallway leading from the kitchen to the main dining parlour.

He had seen where the key to the strongbox was secreted. Wickham retrieved it along with the box. He unlocked it and removed all of the banknotes and the larger denominations of coins. He did not wait to return things to their place and without counting what he had, Wickham pushed all into a pocket, and then as calmly as he was able, he retraced his steps.

He arrived back at the stables and saddled the landlord’s stallion. He saw Paul looking at him. “Blaze seemed a little lame to me yester-morning so I am taking him for a ride to see if I can tell what is wrong.” Before the young groom could comment on the fact Greg’s accent and diction had changed, Wickham had leapt onto the horse’s back and was off towards the north. A white hot determination for revenge fuelled his flight.

A half hour later, the landlord entered his office to find the open strongbox which was practically empty. Within two hours the magistrate was speaking to all servants and staff, and it was deduced that one Gregory Wright was in fact the kidnapper George Wickham.

A search party was sent riding north, but no trace of the criminal and the stolen stallion were found.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

In Scarborough that same day, the Times of London was delivered to Bingley House. Caroline Bingley had not dared to venture outside more than once or twice, and then it was only with her heavy black veil covering her face.

Not being able to be seen in public meant that life was rather boring. If only she would have been able to see the result of the letter she had sent to Lady Catherine. Miss Bingley was sure the hated Eliza’s life was being made miserable while Mr Darcy by now would be forced to marry that sickly Anne de Bourgh. She looked for the announcement of the wedding each day, but so far nothing. After rejecting herself so cruelly, he deserved that sickly cousin of his.

She delighted in reading the London papers each morning so she could live vicariously thanks to the news—especially the gossip columns, even though she could never return to the society she craved. Since she had been in the north The Tatler, which most in the upper ten thousand publicly spurned but privately read, had become her favourite publication of all.

Like she did each morning, Miss Bingley read the newspaper from Town while she sipped her tea the way a proper lady should. Her brother sat across from her at the head of the table waiting his turn to read until she had completed her perusal.

As she always did, she lifted her teacup in one hand, the pages in the other and began to read as she sipped. She was about to take another sip when her hand froze near her lips, her cup already angled so she would be able to drink. What she was reading must be wrong! She read the notice again to make sure. In the meanwhile, her tea was dripping out of her cup and onto her lap. The second reading did not change the words, and she realised that this was no joke because the royal seal was affixed to the bottom of the notice.

“ NO ! THIS CANNOT BE ! That hoyden cannot be a duchess! I will not allow it !” Miss Bingley screamed and screeched as she threw the newspaper across the table. That action caused all of her hot tea to empty from her cup, scalding her legs, which led to much louder caterwauling .

Bingley had become inured to his sister’s outbursts, so he calmly retrieved the discarded pages. His sister’s screeching for her maid faded to a dull roar while he read the article which had caused the tantrum. It did not take him long to understand what had caused his sister’s paroxysm. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was now a duchess. Why his sister held this unreasonable hatred of the new duchess, Bingley did not know. However, given Caroline’s feelings towards the delectable Miss Bennet’s next younger sister, Bingley was not surprised at her reaction.

Thankfully, her maid had ushered her mistress from the room to help her change her gown. Seeing the name Bennet brought all the regrets Bingley felt at not returning to Miss Jane Bennet to the fore, as it had many times over the preceding months. He was about to blame Darcy and his sisters again, but he stopped that train of thought. Bingley reminded himself he had no one but himself to blame for the loss of both Miss Bennet and also Darcy’s friendship.

He no longer gave in to all of his sister’s whims, but he knew he failed to adequately stand up to her.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

To say Bennet was shocked when he was told of the former Lady Catherine’s and Mr Collins’s performances at the Pavilion was rather an understatement. As much as he thought his cousin a buffoon, he had never thought he would take his sycophantism to the level, which now found him on his way to the Tower of London.

What was the man thinking? Even if he did not recognise the Regent, he must have known a man in this house was more apt to be one of high rank than not. On his return, Gardiner had told him all, including that Charlotte was now Miss Lucas again. Thinking about how the scandal would have affected not only the former Mrs Collins, but her family as well, he was pleased for all of the Lucases that their name was no longer connected to that of Mr Collins.

After speaking to Gardiner, the first thing Bennet did was to meet with his daughters in Lizzy’s sickroom. He related his decision regarding their mother. “You all know I tried everything I could think of to convince your mother to change her ways, but she was either unable or unwilling to do so. In the end I had no choice,” Bennet explained.

“As much as I prayed Mama would amend her behaviour, when she kept trying to get me to return to the way I was, on the path to ruin, I had a feeling this would be the ultimate result,” Lydia shook her head sadly. A few tears slid down her cheek.

“I hope you will forgive me,” Bennet said as he pulled his youngest into the circle of his arms. “I am fully aware of how close you and your mother were.”

“Papa, my tears are not born of sadness that Mother has been sent to a cottage,” Lydia explained. “The sadness is for her refusal to see how wrong the way she taught me to behave was, and then to not even attempt to try a different way. I see now that Mother was seeking a younger version of herself, which is why she behaved the way she did towards Lizzy, and to a certain extent to Mary.”

Her father and older sisters were greatly impressed by the level of maturity and insight Lydia was displaying. If Bennet needed more evidence that employing Mrs Poppins was the best thing he could have ever done for his daughters, he had just seen it.

He reached a decision. “Jane and Lizzy are aware of this. I want you younger three to know as well, as I believe you have all matured to the extent I can treat you more like adults,” Bennet stated. “I do ask, for reasons which will become clear, that you do not tell, or boast about this, to anyone. None of us want to be like that awful Miss Bingley who was always boasting about her dowry.” All five of his daughters shook their heads. “The Regent dowered the four of you who are not a duchess…with a dowry in the amount of five and twenty thousand pounds each!”

They smiled at the way their father said who was dowered, but it quickly turned to shocked looks from the youngest three when the amount was mentioned.

Elizabeth added to this statement calmly and said. “As I have more money than I will ever know what to do with, I am adding five and seventy thousand pounds to each of your dowries,” Three mouths hung open.

“Lizzy, just how wealthy are you?” Mary asked once she recovered the power of speech.

“Enough, so my adding to your dowries does not make a significant difference to my wealth,” Elizabeth responded matter-of-factly. She saw the protests forming on her three younger sister’s lips. “You know you are not allowed to gainsay a duchess,” she teased. “In all seriousness, ask Janey to verify the truth of what I have said, and you know she never dissembles. When I tell you this is not a hardship to me, rather a great pleasure, what I am telling you is the absolute truth. Remember, this information should stay within the family.”

Mary, Kate, and Lydia looked to Jane who nodded confirming Lizzy’s words. It was not that they did not trust Lizzy, but she was known to tease.

“May we go join Mary Anne, Anna, and Emma for tea?” Kate requested on behalf of herself and Lydia. After their father nodded, the two youngest Bennets skipped away.

“Before you go though, you should be aware your Uncle Phillips is writing the terms of the release of your dowries to make it clear anyone who tries to compromise you will not benefit if he succeeds. If any of you are not married at your majority, the dividends will be paid to you each year instead of being reinvested to the principal, and if you do not marry by the age of thirty, your dowry will be yours to use as you see fit. When, if, any of you do marry, the marriage articles will leave at least half of your dowry in your own hands, and not in your husbands’” Bennet explained.

Knowing the Colonel had been interested in her before she had known of her dowry, and such a sum would allow them to live comfortably, Mary could do nothing but smile. She cared not that he did not own an estate, but with such a dowry, they could purchase one, or lease one from Lizzy. That is if they ever reached that point.

Jane looked at their middle sister knowingly, while Elizabeth looked at her older sister with an arched eyebrow, sending the message that Mary was not the only one who was seemingly besotted with a man in residence at the Pavilion. A voice in her head whispered that she herself was developing tender feelings for a man who was being hosted here, but she ignored it.

“Are there any more questions?” Bennet enquired. His three eldest daughters shook their heads. He kissed each one on the forehead before they departed.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Sir William had seen a list of those who had been executed for treason, and one name struck him with the force of a blacksmith’s hammer blow on an anvil. William Collins. How was it Bennet had not mentioned anything? He was wringing his hands as to what to tell his wife and family when the manservant delivered the post.

“I sorry, Master, this ‘ere one came a day ago, and I forgot ta give it ta yer,” the man said contritely hoping he would not be dismissed.

It was not the manservant’s fault that they did not keep a butler who would worry about post and many other things, which he did now on top of his many other duties. “I am not angry, Peterson. In future though, just try and remember to bring me letters when they arrive. ”

“Aye, Sir William,” the relieved man bowed and left the study.

It was Charlotte’s handwriting, but the return direction caught Sir William’s attention. His daughter was being hosted at the Regent’s Pavilion. He could only hope that portended something positive after what he had just read in the newspaper. He took a deep breath and broke the seal.

29 July 1811

The Royal Pavilion

Brighton

Mama and Papa,

My marriage has been annulled…

The more Sir William read, the more relief he felt. Charlotte would not be tarred with the same brush as the late Mr Collins, and it meant there would be little or no scandal attached to the Lucas name.

I am happy to report my friendship with Eliza (she demands I not use her title in private) has been fully repaired, and she has dowered me in the amount of twenty thousand pounds! I tried to object, but I was told not to gainsay a duchess. I cannot tell you more, but I assure you she is not hurting herself by doing this.

Even if I never marry, I will not be a burden on Papa, or Franklin, once Papa goes to his eternal reward (which I pray is decades from now). My dowry will be invested with Sir Edward and will give me an income of about two thousand pounds annually.

As I have been invited to remain with Eliza while she recovers (other than her broken leg she is well and in fine fettle) and after her investiture, she has invited me to accompany her to tour her estates (a primary one plus seven others!) as her friend, and not as a paid companion. I have happily accepted.

Please explain to Maria why I have had to reclaim the title of Miss Lucas and her having to once again be Miss Maria. If I ever resign the name Lucas again, it will be for the right reasons and never for a pecuniary one.

The Regent has assured me that it will be made known that regardless of my foolish marriage (I used the word foolish, not his Highness) he will make it be known that we are in no way associated with the late Mr William Collins. That reminds me, his former patroness forced her way into the Pavilion and insulted the Regent and Mrs Fitzherbert. For her troubles, she was stripped of her honorary title and banished to the Isle of Wight.

I will write to you again soon. Please tell my brothers and sister they too will hear from me in due course.

Your loving daughter,

Miss Charlotte Lucas

Sir William called for his wife and allowed her to read the letter and then showed her the list in the paper. Lady Lucas cried great wracking sobs of relief, not just for their name being spared, but the fact her Charlotte was free of the buffoon she had convinced her daughter to marry.

Maria Lucas took her change of status in stride and was very happy for her sister. Franklin was more than pleased he would never have to put up with one William Collins and his inanities ever again.