Chapter 8

Saul Rhys-Davies and Philip Carrington would have done anything to speed up their carriage bearing them home from the second to final year at Eton had they had the ability to do so.

The reason for the cousins’ impatience was simple. When each had turned sixteen in March, he had been presented with his own stallion. At thirteen they had graduated to riding a cob and now, finally, they had their own thoroughbreds. The coach would travel the less than forty miles to Woburn Abbey where they would overnight and then depart with Saul’s parents and brother for Snowhaven on the morrow.

Each summer the extended family—which included the Darcys, congregated at one of the primary estates for at least two months, this year it was the Fitzwilliams’ turn to host at Snowhaven. With the proximity to Pemberley, there would be frequent calls at that estate.

Saul’s new stallion would be ridden by one of the grooms when he was not riding Perseus himself. As much as he would prefer to ride him the whole way to Derbyshire, Saul was aware his parents would not allow such. At least he did not have to wait to see his horse until they arrived at Snowhaven like Philip had to.

Neptune—Philip’s stallion—was being brought to the Matlock estate by the Carringtons who had been scheduled to depart Holder Heights two days previously. Based on the less than one day it took to travel between the two estates in question, by the time the group from Woburn Abbey arrived at Snowhaven in about three days, Neptune would be rested and ready for Philip to send him galloping across the fields.

On their arrival at the Abbey, Saul was welcomed by his parents, and Philip received no less of an enthusiastic welcome. Philip could understand that Saul was missing Sed and Belle. The latter was living at Hilldale with Andrew. The former was living at Birchington with Emily. It was the reason Philip would miss seeing Emily at home now that she was married.

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

William arrived at Rosings Park as agreed. He and Richard would travel north together. He was not alone. George Wickham arrived with him as he had been visiting William for a few days after his graduation from a small university concentrating on the study of the law.

“Welcome to my home,” Richard greeted as he shook both men’s hands.

Richard, like William, had been sceptical that the change in George Wickham had been genuine or would last any longer than he could not be seen. Both had to admit he was wrong. George had changed. He was no longer the envious and devious person he used to be. He had applied himself to his studies and had chosen to follow his father into the study of law. Even though the older Wickham had never practised as a solicitor, George intended to do just that.

After the two washed and changed they met Richard in the library for some pre-dinner drinks. “Did I hear you have been taken on as a clerk in a small solicitor’s office?” Richard asked once each man had a snifter in hand.

“Yes, Father wrote to a friend of his who had studied the law with him,” George explained. “Once I have a few years’ experience under my belt then I can see if I have the desire to join a large city group of solicitors, or mayhap study to become a barrister. My father told me I could not learn from a man who knows more about the law than Mr. Philips.”

“Where will you be based?” William enquired.

“It is the small market town of Meryton in Hertfordshire,” George averred. “I have been told he has some very comely nieces, but it will be some years before I have established myself on a firm financial footing and am able to think of taking a wife.”

Recognising the name of the town from his discussion with Miss Bennet at supper during his mother’s ball, Richard did not comment for some moments. “When do you begin?” Richard queried.

“We will convey Wickham to the town of Meryton on the morrow,” William interjected. “It is about fifty miles north and we can reach the Great North Road a few miles past the town. Did you know that Miss…Mr. Bennet, the one I try to beat at chess via the post lives in the area?”

“I do,” Richard responded succinctly. After William’s arrogant pronouncement regarding Miss Bennet at the ball Richard had not told him he was talking about the sister of the young lady who routinely schooled him at chess.

Not for the first time Richard questioned his determination to wait to declare himself to any woman until after he turned five and twenty. He had made his decision and it was made for the best.

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

As they had departed with the dawn, it was around midday by the time the coach conveying the three men arrived in Meryton. When he alighted the coach to farewell Wickham, Richard knew he was playing with fire. He was sure if he saw the woman his heart told him was his match, he would lose his resolve.

With Wickham’s trunk unloaded and the two footmen having carried it into the rooms their friend would occupy, Richard and William farewelled Wickham and re-entered the cabin of the conveyance. As soon as the door was closed and he heard the footmen were on the bench, William struck the ceiling with his cane and the coachman put his two matched pairs into motion. Knowing it was too dangerous to look out of the window, Richard sat back against the squabs, his hands folded across his chest, feigning sleep.

Due to the fact he had no reason not to look out of the windows on his side, William was watching as they passed the various stores on their way north. He saw five young ladies walking, escorted by, what he assumed was, a maid and a huge footman. Three were blonde, or degrees thereof, one had light brown hair, while the fifth was more petite than the rest and had dark hair. He thought she reminded him of someone.

Before William could complete his thought, he recognised the one lady as the one from his aunt’s ball. ‘What would someone invited to Aunt Elaine’s ball be doing here in an insignificant market town in Hertfordshire?’ he thought to himself. Remembering Richard had seemed taken with the lady at the ball, he shot a surreptitious glance at his cousin to make sure he did not see the lady which would lead to an unscheduled stop. Thankfully Richard was either resting his eyes or he was asleep. Either way, he had not seen her, so William would do nothing to bring the lady to Richard’s attention.

Once they were out of the town and reached the main road to the north, the coach picked up speed on the better maintained road and without knowing it about the other, both men relaxed.

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

“Lizzy how do you like your Penny?” Jane asked on the walk back to Longbourn. Penelope, who she called Penny, was Lizzy’s Arabian mare she had been gifted for her sixteenth birthday.

“I love her as much as you love your Venus,” Elizabeth insisted. “Janey, did you see that huge coach that passed us? It had stopped near our Aunt and Uncle Philips’ house.”

“Yes, I saw it when it passed us by,” Jane responded. “Why do you ask?”

“I thought I saw a man staring at us from inside, but I may be in error,” Elizabeth shared. “I am sure someone able to afford such a coach looks down on all of us country bumpkins.”

“Lizzy, why do you look for the worst in people?” Jane asked. “You have no idea what the person was thinking and feeling.”

“And you Janey look for the best,” Elizabeth retorted. “But you do have the right of it. I made an unfair assumption.”

“You know better than most that although I do like to see the better angels in those around me, I am certainly not na?ve and will not allow anyone to push me to compromise my principles or what I know to be right,” Jane responded.

“Yes, Janey, well I know that,” Elizabeth owned.

Jane and Elizabeth were ahead of Mary, Cathy, and Lydia while the maid and John Biggs walked a little behind the three younger Bennet sisters.

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

“I requested you two join me while the girls are in Meryton to inform you that according to Gardiner’s latest report, we have made back all of the funds, and more, which were used to purchase the estate,” Bennet informed his wife and mother. “That means your portion is restored Fanny, same as Mother’s, and the girls’ dowries are back to what they were before the purchase.

“It is not only Gardiner’s stellar trading, but with the last four plus years since the income from the other estate has been restored, and exceeds what it used to be, all the profits are being sent to Gardiner, along with close to three thousand pounds from Longbourn’s profits. This estate’s income has never been higher.”

“That is wonderful news, Thomas,” Fanny gushed. “I have long known the future is secure, and it gets better with each passing year.”

“That brute Collins will not be pleased that your descendants will be far better off than his own, even after he inherits Longbourn,” Beth noted. “Have you had any of his pearls of wisdom written by someone on his behalf and posted to you of late?”

“No. Truth be told, I have not received a letter in two to three years,” Bennet recalled. “I am sure as he never heard of Fanny being enceinte after Lydia, he had no need to impose himself on us, by the post or any other way.”

“If we never hear from that odious man again, it will be too soon,” Fanny insisted.

Before any of them could say more, the sounds of the girls returning from Meryton was heard. The parents and grandmother joined the five sisters in the drawing room.

The visit to Meryton was described but without Elizabeth’s assumptions of the man she had seen in the coach.

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

William Collins did not know why his father had demanded secrecy from him, but he honoured his late father’s wishes and had not informed the distant cousins, or any other, about the passing of his father. Over the years, being obedient to his father, in fact to anyone in a position of authority, had been beaten into Collins in such a way it would never be forgotten, or contravened, as long as he drew breath.

After much seeking and very few offers, Collins accepted the position of curate at the church of St. Etheldreda in Amersham, a market town in Buckinghamshire. It was not the prestigious living like the one Lady Catherine had promised to prefer him to, but it was employment and he was sure that he would gain a parish, just like the son of Clem Collins deserved.

As he thought about his father, his thoughts returned to one of the final conversations he had had with him before he had been so unjustly murdered.

March 1804

William Collins had arrived home in the final week of March for the Easter term break from the seminary where he was studying to become a clergyman. “Sit William,” his father commanded, “you are old enough now to know what I have done to protect my, and by extension your, birthright.”

“I have always known you would do anything you needed to make sure a Collins was master of Longbourn, as one should have been these many years,” William assured his father.

“Just be still and allow me to relate what I choose to do,” Collins growled, “if you interrupt me again I will have to educate you.”

Knowing exactly what form that education would take, William Collins nodded his head vigorously but said not a word. He sat as he had been instructed and waited until his father was ready to proceed.

“As I have told you the entail ends with you. That also means that if my damned cousin Thomas Bennet had a son, we would forever be cut off from owning what should rightfully be ours. To that end, after my cousin married and his wife bore him a daughter, before I was warned away from Longbourn and Meryton, I discovered who the midwife was. I put in place a plan as I did not want to take the chance there would be a Bennet son to once again cheat the Collinses out of what is rightfully ours.

“I, with the help of a friend, persuaded her that things would go very ill for her and her two daughters if my cousin’s wife ever bore a son.” Collins could see the question forming on his idiotic son’s lips, but fear of being beaten stopped him from asking. “Yes, I told her if Mrs. Bennet was ever to bear a son, she was to rid the world of it and convince the mother it had been stillborn or died shortly thereafter.

“It was only right as it would have been the devil’s spawn had the woman managed to bear a son. As it was, luck and God were on our side. As it should be, she bore only daughters and since the last one who was born in 1795, she has never been with child again.

“The reason I tell you this is so if anything happens to me before we inherit the estate, as is just and right, you will not publish news of my passing. If you do and the midwife tells what I had ordered her to do, that conniving cousin of mine may try to have us removed as heirs to the estate claiming we violated the terms of the entail. Do not contact him either, you never know how he may move against you if you are the last living heir.

“I tell you this not because I intend not to be alive to claim my place as the master of Longbourn, but just in case something occurs and I am no longer alive. Now you may speak.”

“You did nothing which would not be ordained by God as justified,” William Collins stated. “I am sure no one would dare harm my honoured father so, surely, you will take your place as the rightful master of Longbourn.”

The present

Regardless of his pronouncements none would hurt his father, his father had been murdered a fortnight subsequent to the conversation. After his death there had been much talk about his father and the criminal activity he was supposed to have committed. As he believed not a word of it, any talk which dishonoured his father was rejected out of hand by William Collins.

All he had to do was bide his time until Cousin Bennet passed away and he fulfilled the legacy of returning a Collins to his rightful place as master of the estate. In the meanwhile, he would demean himself and carry out his duties as dictated to him by the vicar.

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

By the summer Jane had convinced herself she had not seen any interest from Mr. Fitzwilliam’s side. She finally felt she could confide in Lizzy without paining herself too much.

One night in July, Elizabeth heard a soft knock on her bedchamber door. She was certain it was Janey as it was their habit to often visit one another’s chambers and talk late into the night, often falling asleep in the bed they were lying in when they spoke.

“Enter Janey,” Elizabeth called out.

The door opened and Jane, her golden blonde hair in a plait which was hanging down to her lower back, and wearing a robe over her nightrail, slipped into Elizabeth’s chamber. She shrugged out of the robe and slid under the covers with her younger sister.

“Charlotte was happy Sir William made a full recovery from his fall and broken leg, was she not,” Jane began.

“Yes, she most certainly was, but that is not what you desired to discuss tonight is it?” Elizabeth surmised. “Could it be that you are ready to tell me why I see melancholy in your looks when you think you are unobserved?”

“Your perspicacity does you credit. I was using what Charlotte told us to distract me from my purpose.” Jane took a deep breath. “You remember I told you that Aunt Maddie and Uncle Edward were invited to a ball given by the Earl and Countess of Matlock in February past?”

“Yes, you described it well. At least how the ballroom was decorated and the variety of gowns and jewellery on display. I assume there is more to tell.”

Jane told of meeting Mr. Fitzwilliam, and the two sets she shared with him, the second one being the supper set. She related how in the admittedly short time they were together she felt him touch her heart. “For the almost month I was with the Gardiners he never called on me and I did not see him at any more events. Before you ask, I have written to Aunt Maddie and made subtle enquiries, he never called after I decamped London.”

“Janey if he could not see the wonder you are, then it is his loss. We have promised to never marry without the deepest love and respect, have we not?” Jane nodded her agreement. “That has to flow both ways. As you said, you hardly knew him so you have no idea if he was serious about you or it was a flirtation with the most beautiful woman at the ball.”

As she was wont to do, when she was complimented in this fashion, Jane’s cheeks pinked. “Lizzy, you are no less beautiful than me, and well you know that. But my far younger sister, your words make much sense. It seems my melancholy was self-induced as I built a romance in my head which, it is now obvious, was not rooted in reality. Thank you, my dearest Lizzy. I will be better I promise and if we ever meet again, I will be able to see him as an indifferent acquaintance.”

Her talk with Elizabeth lifted a weight from Jane’s shoulders and soon she and her sister were both claimed by Morpheus as they fell asleep in the same bed.