Chapter 1

Although Fanny understood why Thomas had to travel to London to meet with Edward, departing that day, the first Wednesday of March, 1790, she was not happy about her husband not being at home when she was just weeks away from the estimated date of her second lying-in. She would not verbalise this to him, as she knew Thomas did not like travelling and only did so when it was necessary. Hence, she did not want to burden him with her own feelings on the subject.

Hattie, who had recently had her fifth miscarriage was not in Meryton. Frank had accompanied her to Bath to take the waters and recover from her latest disappointment. They would be there for at least a fortnight. To date, the Philipses had not been blessed with a live birth.

At least Fanny had her mother-in-law with her at Longbourn. Beth Bennet was the only mother Fanny had ever known and as such her feelings were for a mother, not a mother-in-law. Fanny loved the woman as well as any daughter loved a mother, and as Beth had never had a daughter, she relished her time with Fanny. Anything her daughter needed insofar as assistance, if it was within her power to provide it, Beth was ready to do so.

Jane had turned three in January and was rather excited that she would soon be a big sister. No matter how many times Mama told her the babe she was carrying could be a brother, Jane kept on insisting she would have a sister. Just like her mother had learnt how to be a gentlewoman from Grandmama Beth, Jane was beginning to learn some simple things from her grandmother as well.

Like her mother before her, the older Jane became, the more beautiful she was. She had golden-blonde hair, the deepest cerulean blue eyes, and she was the sweetest most serene girl one could hope to find.

As Fanny stood and waved to the retreating back of the Bennet carriage as it bore her husband away from her, she felt a melancholy which always descended when the man she loved had to travel without her—even if it was not a very common occurrence. After all, this time he was travelling due to her instigation—in an indirect way. Fanny thought back to the conversation a few nights past.

“Fanny why do you seem so worried?” Beth Bennet asked. “You know it is not the best thing for the babe you are carrying if his or her mother is not calm.”

“I am well aware of that Mother,” Fanny had replied. “It is caused by my worry about the entail on the estate and what will happen to my daughters if I do not bear a son and heir.”

“Allow me to have Hill summon Thomas,” Beth had suggested. Fanny had nodded.

Bennet entered the drawing room with a look of concern as soon as he saw his wife’s face. “Fanny are you and the babe well?” he enquired concernedly as he knelt on the floor next to his wife. He covered her hands with his own and began to slowly rub her hands in a circular motion with his thumbs.

“You told her about the entail and now she is concerned what will occur should she not be blessed with a son,” Beth had explained to her son.

“Then I did not explain all to you as I should have, please forgive me my dearest Fanny,” Bennet responded contritely. He related how he had invested his own legacy, a portion of the annual income from the estate, as well as her dowry with her brother. “In the close to four years since I trusted Edward with our money, we have more than twenty thousand pounds combined. Even were I to be called home to God on the morrow, you, Mother, and Jane would have more than enough to live on as your brother is able to return about two thousand pounds per annum on the amount as it is now.” Bennet had paused as he saw his wife relax with the knowledge that her, and more importantly, Jane’s future would be secure. “If that were not enough, the entail stipulates any dowager mistresses of Longbourn have lifetime rights to the dower house. You, Mother, and Jane would have a house, which is more than half the size of this manor house, in which you would be very comfortable. And that is before you take the income you would have into account. In fact, you would be able to choose to take only what you need and Edward would add the rest to the principle which would grow and have you in an even stronger financial position. Before you ask, if the worst does occur, my cousin Collins would have no power over you. My will stipulates your father and Edward would manage your and any of our daughters’ affairs. In addition, the entail prescribes that the heir is only entitled to money which the estate generates after he becomes master. Anything earned before that date, especially dowries and the like, are far beyond his control.”

“Fanny dear, you do not know this,” Beth Bennet had added, “but I have a dowry of ten thousand pounds in the four percents which earns my pin money of four hundred pounds per annum. Thomas will confirm most of that sum is spent towards the running of the estate. In my will, the funds will be split between any grandchildren who are alive when I leave the mortal world to go join my Henry in heaven.” She had turned to her son. “Thomas, I want you to withdraw that money from the bank and invest it with Fanny’s brother. Anything it earns above the annual pin money I have always had is to be added to your money you are saving for the future.”

“Are you sure Mother?” Bennet had verified.

“Yes, I am,” Beth had assured him. “If I had known how much Edward is able to produce, I would have asked you to do this some years ago.”

That is what Thomas was travelling to do. He would meet with the manager of the Bank of England to receive a draft on the morrow. Fanny’s father had signed an affidavit attesting that Thomas had the authority to withdraw his mother’s funds. After the bank, he would spend a few days with Edward and then before he returned to Longbourn, he would indulge his passion for books at some of the bookshops in London. He especially wanted to see if he could discover some first editions he was seeking.

As she was about to re-enter the house, Fanny stopped and placed her hand on her swollen belly as her son—she was certain that is what it would be, although she would love the babe regardless—kicked her so she would not forget he was there. She opined he must be very big as she was so much larger than she had been with Jane.

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

“Father what will happen to our estate if your cousin’s wife delivers a son?” William Collins, who was six, asked his father.

“She will not have a son and cheat me out of my birthright,” Clem Collins growled.

His son shrank back knowing full well what would occur if he displeased his father in any way. Two years earlier Mother had upset Father and then she had fallen down the stairs in the house and been taken to heaven. William would never forget how his father had told him that God would punish anyone who disrespected him.

“S-sorry Father, I did not mean to be disrespectful,” William managed.

“See that you are not,” Collins barked. “My grandfather was cheated out of his rightful inheritance, and I will do what I must to ensure Longbourn returns to its rightful owners, the Collins line.”

Clem Collins and his son lived in Luton, Bedfordshire, just across the border with Hertfordshire, and not more than twenty miles from Meryton and Longbourn. They lived in the cottage the Collins, who had married the profligate former Bennet, had purchased with the remains of her fortune after her husband was shot for cheating. Since then, the Collins men—rather than gain education and better their situation—had taken to grousing about being cheated out of what was rightfully theirs and relying on less than honourable methods to provide for themselves and their families.

The current Collins was the worst of the bunch. He was a hired thug who would do anything, including end the life of another, for money. Most of the time he used intimidation and threats to accomplish his goals. His family were not spared his wrath. Even though his son was of a very tender age, it was not uncommon for Collins to beat or kick the boy. His late wife had had the temerity to confront him after he had administered some punishment to his son one day. Collins had helped her down the stairs.

Collins was more than confident his damned cousin Bennet would never have a son and heir. The only problem was waiting for the man to shuffle off the mortal coil. He was too well known around Longbourn so Collins could not approach the estate, and he refused to pay someone else to do that which he was capable of doing himself.

He had tried to bribe a servant to inform him of his cousin’s movements, but he and the rest of the servants were too loyal to the Bennets. His attempt had been reported to the so called master who had written him a letter. When it was read to him, Collins had been in a rage for three days, but he was intelligent enough to know he could not risk being arrested for trespassing as his cousin threatened if he ever set foot on Longbourn land while Thomas Bennet was master. As far as he was aware, the interloper seldom, if ever, travelled away from the estate.

“M-may I-I b-be excused?” William stammered. His father waved him away and William left his father’s company at speed. He was grateful he had been allowed to leave his Father’s presence without any education delivered in the form of kicks and, or, punches.

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

Elaine Fitzwilliam and Priscilla Carrington were visiting Rose Rhys-Davies at Bedford House. They and their families were to depart London on the morrow, the first Thursday in March. It was time to return to their estates as the two sisters who were with child, preferred not to deliver in London.

Their husbands had urged them to leave London without them a month earlier but the Duchess of Bedford and the Countess of Holder had refused. They had never not been in London while their husbands were in a session of the Lords, and they were determined to be with their men. Elaine had tried to convince her sisters to depart, but she had met with no more success than either husband had.

There had been at least one concession by Cilla. They would all make for Woburn Abbey, the Rhys-Davies’ estate and Cilla would remain with Rose and her family for her lying-in. That way Elaine could attend both of them and would not have to make the impossible choice of being with one rather than the other.

“You two are as stubborn as you have always been,” Elaine shook her head as she observed her sisters who were clearly uncomfortable trying to sit with their bulk given the late stage of their being with child.

“Who are you to talk,” Priscilla shot back with a huff, “you are no less stubborn than either of us.”

“All will be well, Elaine,” Rose placated, “we depart with the light on the morrow, and as you know it is only seven hours to the Abbey. Our husbands will make sure we break for a rest after every hour of travel.”

“Did you hear that Anne had another disappointment,” Elaine changed the subject, while highlighting the potential perils her sisters faced.

“Yes, that is her third miscarriage since William was born,” Priscilla noted, “Praise be they have him and are not without any children.”

“That means Anne, Robert, and William will not be joining us when we depart on the morrow,” Elaine reported. “She needs time to recover, but I think part of it is that the last thing Anne wants is to be around other women giving birth right now.”

Rose decided they needed a complete change of subject. “Have either of you received the latest letter from Catherine demanding we engage our sons to her daughter?”

“Yes!” her sisters chorused.

“Do you know as none of us have responded to her diatribes to date she has lowered herself to try and convince Anne to engage William to her namesake,” Elaine revealed. “She claimed in her letter to Anne, even though William is not titled, he would be acceptable as his grandfather was and his uncle is, an earl.”

“The temerity of that woman!” Rose exclaimed. “Given how spectacularly she failed to compromise Sedgewick and thereafter Paul, and what a termagant she is, Catherine is delusional that any of us would ever encourage our sons to have her as a mother-in-law. Is not Sir Lewis able to control her?”

“To a certain extent he can, however, like the rest of us, he is out of her company as much as possible.” Elaine cogitated for a few seconds. “Anne and Robert will not engage William to Anne de Bourgh. As we desire for our children, they want him, and any other children they are blessed with, to find a marriage partner who they can love and respect and who returns the same. Like the rest of us, they have taken to ignoring Catherine’s missives.”

“That woman suffers from delusions of grandeur,” Priscilla opined. Neither of her sisters said anything in disagreement.

The Duchess was fighting to school her features. For the last hour she had felt pains in her lower back, pains she had experienced before with her two previous live births and the miscarriages. She was certain they would arrive at Woburn Abbey before she needed to inform anyone. A half hour later, much to her relief, the aches subsided.

By the time her sisters took their leave, Rose was able to farewell them without any artifice when she smiled.

Elaine and Cilla shared a coach as their London homes were a few doors down from one another on the same side of Grosvenor Square. Darcy House was across the green from the sisters’ homes. It was a very convenient situation in order for their children to often be in one another’s company. The two Rhys-Davies children saw their cousins just as much as Bedford House on Russell Square was just over a mile and a half distant.

It was Cilla’s turn to hide her discomfort. She felt the pains in her back like her sister had, even though she had no knowledge of her sister’s pains. Thankfully, by the time the Matlock coach arrived at her door, they had ceased.

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

Bennet was pleased the journey to London, even including a rest of a little more than an hour, had taken less than five hours. On the one hand, he was not pleased to leave his wife at home with only his mother when she was at this advanced stage of being in the family way. However, the tasks he needed to achieve—outside of seeking some first editions—were all aimed to secure the future for her, Jane, and any more children with whom they were blessed.

He arrived at his brother-in-law’s house in the early afternoon. Edward’s advice to make the appointment at the bank on the morrow was wise. By the time Bennet’s carriage arrived, it was past the time he would have been granted an appointment with a manager at the bank.

The plan was to transact business on the morrow, both at the bank and with Gardiner. Bennet did not believe he needed more than one day, not a few days as he had told Fanny. There would be time on Friday morning before he headed to Piccadilly to seek out bookstores. He debated whether he should stop at Darcy House on Friday. If he did, it would allow him and Darcy to play a game of chess seated across the board from one another rather than by post. Bennett decided he would send a note to his friend and see if he had time to play a game or two. This way, he would still be able to arrive home on Saturday, the sixth day of March.

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

When Fanny was in the bed she normally shared with her husband, she rubbed the empty side of the bed where Thomas would have been if he were home. Thankfully, as he had promised, he sent an express to let her know he had arrived in London safely so she did not have to go to sleep wondering and worrying.

As she lay in bed, Fanny felt the pain begin radiating from her lower back. “Please do not allow me to begin my lying-in before Thomas is home,” Fanny beseeched the heavens.

The pains persisted for about an hour, never strengthening. Just when she thought she needed to ring for her housekeeper, Mrs. Martha Hill, the pains were no more. Fanny sighed with relief. Mother had warned her before she birthed Jane that it was not unheard of to have some pains which did not denote the commencement of a woman’s labours.

Fanny fell asleep after praying her husband would return home before she delivered their second child.