Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

September 1812, Longbourn

S pring's gentle awakening transformed into a lush, green summer, then faded into a September of brilliantly coloured leaves and honey-gold afternoons. The harvest was bountiful, both in their fields and in their gardens. The girls helped their gardener with the harvest and assisted Hill and Jenks with the preserves. There is so much food! Who will be here to eat it? Elizabeth wondered.

It had been six months since their mother's death, almost eight months since Lydia's.

Although isolated, some news of the neighbourhood had occasionally filtered into Longbourn through tenant farmers and servants, and in one case, an itinerant tinker. Netherfield still sat empty. The Purvises had removed to Bath for the foreseeable future so Mr Purvis could take the waters for his rheumatism. The Harringtons had gone on holiday by the sea in Weymouth and kept putting off their return. Several young men had taken the king's shilling and departed. The militia had left for Brighton.

The most shocking report had been the discovery and extent of Mr Wickham's depravity. Elizabeth felt that it reflected on her family and made their own shame worse. They had befriended, indeed championed, a criminal. Their parents had never made any effort to curb Lydia's behaviour with the officers, and she herself had been quite foolishly taken in by the villain. Although she did not speak of it to her family, it made her doubt her own judgment.

Mr Philips had notified them when he moved his business and his wife to Buckinghamshire, leaving an empty building on the high street. Meryton was now without a solicitor. Elizabeth considered how unusually quiet the little market town must be. How strange it all was. The last time she had shopped there, two days before the accident, her life had been unexceptional. She had not seen Meryton since her mother's humiliating attempt to visit Aunt Philips, who no longer lived there.

Jane had been readying herself for her future. She and Mrs Hill spent their days in the kitchen, stillroom, and linen closet, taking inventories, calculating budgets, and planning meals. Mr Osbeck also acted as instructor on the fine points of maintaining china, silver, and glassware, of working with footmen, and of curating the wine cellar. Jane accompanied Hill and Osbeck to Hertford for shopping. Over time, the other sisters had joined in, initially to provide some relief from the monotony of the days. They had soon become more serious as they began preparing for their own futures.

Late at night, Elizabeth was sitting in Jane's room, watching her fill a trunk with the things she would need in London.

"Do not pack anything black," she said as Jane pulled gowns from the wardrobe and held them up.

Jane made a face. "I should take one black gown at least, just in case, and black ribbons to add to these others. I only have two that could be used for half-mourning—the grey and the lavender. I am glad we did not dye any of our best gowns."

"There were times, after it became apparent how isolated we would be, that I wondered why we put on our blacks at all," admitted Elizabeth.

Jane wagged a finger at her but with a wry smile. "Mourning is not merely for appearances, Lizzy. It is one way to show respect for those we have lost. It is in the Bible."

Elizabeth smirked. "The Bible also says we should rend our garments to shreds, cut off all our hair, and smear our faces with ashes. But I agree with you."

Jane turned and pulled a shimmering pale-gold silk evening gown from the wardrobe, the one she had worn when she had last seen Mr Bingley at Netherfield.

"Please do not tell me you are going to discard that," said Elizabeth. "You look so beautiful in it."

"Of course not, Lizzy! I have only worn it to one ball!" Jane's chin came up. "I received effusive compliments on it from a gentleman there, though I do not recall his name."

Elizabeth laughed with delight. Jane would be well, better than well. She would take London, at least the Gardiners' little corner of London, by storm.

It was a sobering thought. Elizabeth rose and moved to embrace her sister, tears pricking at her eyes. "Shall we ever live under the same roof again? This parting is different from our last."

Jane hugged her tightly, her own eyes brimming. "It is different. I shall no longer wait for someone else to decide my future. I am going to pursue it myself."

And so it was that early the next morning, a beautiful, misty mid-September morning, Jane began the day sitting alone on the rustic bench in the cemetery. She told her mother and sister where she was going and prayed for them, and for her future. She then boarded the Bennets' carriage, accompanied by her father, leaving for London with her family's love and blessings, not to mention a generous clothing allowance.

September 18, 1812

Gracechurch Street, London

Dear Sisters,

It has only been three days, but my stay with the Gardiners is already more pleasurable than my last. I spent the first days of my visit delighting in the company of my little cousins. Aunt does not wish to hurry me, but I believe she greatly anticipates our shopping excursions.

I have already spent one afternoon at Aunt's favourite dressmaker's, though she is acquainted with several because of my uncle's trade in textiles. She has helped me choose such designs and fabrics that can serve as half-mourning and be altered later.

Although finding a match is my reason for being here, I am relieved that I am not required to seek one right away. Laugh at me all you wish, but since Aunt Gardiner informed us of her determination to help us find respectable husbands, I had half feared that I would be immediately confronted by a queue of single gentlemen each waiting for an interview!

Aunt and I had a little adventure earlier today. You recall Uncle Gardiner's love of history. He is lately pursuing this in a manner other than through the books in his library. He purchased some land adjacent to his warehouses with the intent to expand but has since discovered that the dilapidated building on the property was once a chapterhouse, all that remains of a medieval abbey, and is quite historic. He no longer intends to knock it down but to restore it and find another property to purchase for the warehouses. He has hired an architect, a Mr Magnussen, who is making a name for himself in restoring ancient architecture, and we all toured the building this morning.

Dear sisters, I shall keep you apprised of my progress.

All my love,

Jane

A letter for Elizabeth arrived ten days later, full of news about the society in which Jane now found herself. Elizabeth's heart soared at the joy in her sister's letter.

Several times each week, Aunt's dinner table includes guests from among their acquaintance: men of business, men of science, ships' captains, even those with connexions among the ton . If they are married, their wives attend as well, but most are single. Other ladies come to tea, friends of my aunt's or those who share her interest in charity work.

Next week, my aunt will accompany me to a ball given by one of Uncle's business associates, where I shall see many of the same people. I had planned to wear the gown I brought with me as I have only worn it once, but Aunt Gardiner thought I needed a new one for a new chapter in my life. It will be ready for the ball.

Mr Magnussen visited my uncle, and after discussing the work on the chapterhouse, he showed us the plan of a manor house he will restore for a family in Norfolk. Mr Magnussen plans to recreate the house as it was four hundred years ago when it was built. The family hopes to live in the restored house, though it has been uninhabited for many years.

As I studied his drawings, it was apparent to me that the house would be quite inconvenient. The food would be cold before the footmen arrived in the dining room, as the kitchen is very old and is separate from the rest of the house. There are no servants' passages. There was no proper place for storage of linens and no butler's pantry, and the stillroom was small. Given all I have learnt from Mrs Hill, I was feeling rather bold, and I mentioned the lack to Mr Magnussen, who was much struck by the idea. He had not given much thought to the daily needs of the residents or servants. His primary objective is authenticity.

He took me seriously and listened carefully to every word I said, which gave me a feeling of great satisfaction. I have met few gentlemen who would listen to a lady's contradictory opinion and even thank her for it.

I shall write more about the ball in my next. I so miss our late-night conversations!

Elizabeth smiled. She missed them too, but reading the elation and pleasure in Jane's words was reward enough.

The final day of October brought a letter with the most joyous news Longbourn had received all year.

October 31, 1812

Gracechurch Street, London

My dear Lizzy,

I accompanied Aunt and Uncle to a dinner party and a musical performance this week. We shall attend another small private ball this evening. I dance and converse and enjoy myself greatly, but I find lately that I prefer the company of one gentleman in particular.

Mr Magnussen is personable but not handsome. He is intelligent and capable, and his interests are wide-ranging. His father was a gentleman, but he is a younger son and has had to make his own way. Because of this, he can speak to any person of any rank with ease and courtesy. He has become my friend. He tells me about his work but also about his family and his life before he became his own master. He shares his hopes and aspirations with me and asks me about mine. I treasure our discussions.

I shall end for now. I must prepare for the evening's entertainments. I shall finish this letter tomorrow.

Oh, Lizzy! This will not be the letter I thought it would be only yesterday. No describing the ball, no anecdotes of shopping or visiting, no stories about my little cousins.

This morning my aunt woke me up early with the promise of touring another interesting house with Mr Magnussen. To my surprise, Uncle Gardiner was to accompany us. We rode to the outskirts of town to a very pretty house that has seen better days. It was built over a hundred years ago as a manor house, but the city has grown up around it, and most of the land attached to it has been sold off, though it still has a small walled park, gardens, and a stable.

Mr Magnussen met us at the front entrance, and we walked around the ground and first floors. He pointed out some lovely features of the house and what needs to be repaired and restored. Just as I became aware that my aunt and uncle were no longer with us, he took my hand and asked whether I would like to live there. He said he has never before desired anything more than the rooms he lives and works in, but lately he has realised he wants a home and a family of his own. With me! He asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes, with great joy.

Alexander (that is his given name) had already asked Uncle for permission and has sent a letter to Papa, though he knows I am of age. He will purchase a common licence since I had already described to him our family's isolation and separation from our home parish. He knows of our scandals and shunning and does not judge us. He said our former neighbours do not deserve to hear our banns called!

My happiness is different this time, Lizzy. It is quiet and bone-deep. I can rely on Alexander absolutely. I can trust him. We speak freely and honestly. I know for a certainty that our relationship is equal and that our feelings are mutual.

I cannot wait for you to meet him.

Your Jane

Much happiness ensued, and letters and documents flew back and forth between Longbourn and Gracechurch Street. Mr Bennet approved the settlement, and a date was set for the Bennets to travel to town.

When Jane married, she and Mr Magnussen would move into their new home, making room for the next Bennet sister to go to Gracechurch Street. It would be Elizabeth's turn.