Chapter XXXII

" W

hat do you suppose our sister is considering with such gravity?"

? Louisa looked to Charles, noting the grin he directed at their younger sister, Caroline, who was engaged in looking out the window at the passing scenery. That morning, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had departed for Kent, and the Bingley siblings were on their way to Longbourn for a morning visit with their friends. Even Caroline, who had come to Hertfordshire displeased with the notion of associating with modest gentlefolk such as could be found here, appeared to have become accustomed to it, for she rarely offered any comment resembling critical. If Louisa were to guess, her sister was happier than she had been in London, away from high society and her eagerness for advancement.

? "Perhaps she wishes we would stop at Lucas Lodge, for are those not the lands on her side of the carriage?"

? "Not at all," murmured Caroline, remaining at the window without looking at either of her siblings. "I am content with our intended visit to Longbourn this morning."

? Louisa exchanged a look with Charles and stifled a grin. Neither could say with any certainty whether Mr. Lucas's attentions to their sister were bearing any fruit. That Caroline accepted them with composure would never be in question, for their sister had given no indication of wishing to be elsewhere. Louisa had seen Caroline reject several gentlemen for whom she had no interest without allowing them to hope for any possibility of success. That she had not yet sent Mr. Lucas on his way spoke volumes about her current state of mind, though Louisa still thought it unlikely he would persuade her. Whatever Caroline was thinking, Louisa thought her sister still cherished hopes of rising in society, even if she would not do so in a manner she had expected.

? "If you wish," said Charles, unwilling to relinquish his teasing, "I would be happy to stop at Lucas Lodge for a visit before we proceed on to Longbourn."

? This drew Caroline's attention. "Oh, please, Charles," said she with a look skyward, her words sharp though gentle, "I doubt you will countenance even a five-minute delay until you are in Miss Bennet's company again."

? Charles grinned with delight at his success in provoking their sister. "For your pleasure, Caroline, I could be persuaded to countenance ten minutes."

? "That is a shock, Charles," said Louisa. "Have matters between you and Miss Bennet cooled? I cannot fathom it."

? "Not at all. Yet I would not make Caroline suffer when she wishes to be in the company of her beau. I dare say she is no less eager than I!"

? "No one could be that eager," was Caroline's wry response. "What of Louisa? Do you not wish to go to Longbourn as soon as may be?"

? "I shall weather a temporary delay, if that is what you wish," said Louisa with a shrug.

? Caroline shook her head and turned back to the window. It was strange, though somehow wonderful, that all three siblings had found something in Hertfordshire, something none might have expected, though Charles, she supposed, had not been unaware of what awaited him given his previous visit. Certainly, Louisa had never expected to find a man she could esteem. Louisa and her brother's futures were now guaranteed, she thought, though Caroline was, as always, an enigma.

? Such thoughts drew Louisa's attention to Mr. Bennet and the anticipation for his company. The difference in their ages, Louisa did not consider for even a moment, for it was not unknown for couples in such circumstances to marry. At five and twenty, soon to be six and twenty, Louisa had spent almost eight years in society, four of them in London, and she had yet to find a man who could compare with Mr. Bennet. He was a gentle, conscientious sort of man, one who had taken the prosperity that had come his way and grown to manage it as he should, while retaining his sense of humility. Marriage to Mr. Bennet would not be the center of London society or untold riches and influence as Caroline wished, but Louisa had never wanted such things. As the wife of a man like Mr. Bennet, she would have a husband who would cherish her, a home of her own, and children. Mr. Bennet had naught but three daughters; Louisa meant to ensure he had an heir to whom he could pass the estate when the time came.

? It was yet premature to be having such thoughts—this Louisa knew. She had not been in the neighborhood long, and while Mr. Bennet enjoyed her company, he had made no overtures. Louisa knew all this, but she knew her sentiments, and she fancied she knew Mr. Bennet well by now. He did not strike her as a man to woo a woman to excess. When he decided she was what he wanted—and Louisa did not doubt he would—she was certain he would hasten to secure her hand. Louisa already knew what her answer would be. There was no thought of refusing him in her mind.

? Contrary to their teasing, the Bingley carriage made no detours to Lucas Lodge that morning, and soon their way, wending through groves of trees and rolling hills, led them through the quaint village at Longbourn's entrance, and then onto the drive itself. Longbourn was not Pemberley—it was not even Netherfield Park, to tell the truth. Yet Louisa had always seen it as a pretty house and grounds, a desirable situation for any woman. She had no knowledge other than tales of what it had been when the Bennet family had arrived, and if the picture they had created in her mind was in any way accurate, they had worked wonders with the place. Peace and contentment stole over her; Louisa felt she was coming home.

? The three sisters and Georgiana awaited their arrival, exchanging greetings and exclamations of pleasure when the visitors stepped into the room. Of Mr. Bennet, there was no sign, which was not unusual; the gentleman would often join them after they visited for a short time, or at other times he might be touring the estate. Louisa hoped this day would prove to be the former rather than the latter.

? "I apologize, Louisa," said Elizabeth not long after their arrival, "but I cannot suppose that my father will appear this morning."

? Elizabeth had apprehended the growing connection between them, long before her sisters had any knowledge of it. Louisa attributed this to her intelligence and powers of observation, for she felt that there was little happening around her that Elizabeth did not see.

? "Oh?" asked Louisa, sensing Elizabeth's playful comment. "Is Mr. Bennet on the estate this morning?"

? "No," replied Elizabeth with a grin. "Papa requested a tray in his study, claiming he was unfit for company. He promised he would join us this afternoon; I hope to discover what has affected his mood, but until then, I suppose we must endure our ignorance."

? "Unfit for company?" echoed Louisa. "Did he say what was amiss?"

? "He did not," said Elizabeth. "I know my father very well, enough to know that he is often pensive. When we lived in Nottingham, this often indicated a problem for which he was searching for a solution."

? "The greater responsibility of an estate might suggest the same," observed Louisa.

? "Perhaps," replied Elizabeth with a shrug. "When Mr. Darcy was here, he had a ready expectation of support, hoping to learn from the way Mr. Darcy handled estate problems. Now that he is away..."

? "He must resolve it for himself," finished Louisa.

? Elizabeth nodded. "Papa is not incapable, only inexperienced. He has learned much from Mr. Darcy, and he has often said that managing an estate is akin to managing a parish, with many of the same problems. When you consider it in those terms, I suspect he will devise a solution before long."

? Louisa regarded Elizabeth for a long moment. "Do I sense something else at play? Perhaps Mr. Bennet's concerns are not for the estate."

? "You are perceptive, Louisa," said Elizabeth, approval in her voice and manner. "I cannot say for certain, but my father's troubles seem to be something else. It is unusual for my father to struggle with something and not confide in me. That he is doing so now suggests something different, more personal, that may affect his perception of himself."

? "Do you speak to me in this way for a purpose?" asked Louisa.

? The delighted grin with which Elizabeth responded was intrinsic to her character. "What makes you say that?"

? "Call it a guess," retorted Louisa with a smile. "Do you suppose your father would reject the offer of a friend willing to listen?"

? "Whether he would reject a friend, I cannot say," said Elizabeth, her smile growing wider. "Should a woman he esteems present herself, I suspect he would confide in her."

? "Then I shall ensure that the door is ajar for propriety," said Louisa.

? Elizabeth offered a delighted laugh, in which Louisa joined. Having this woman as a daughter would be no hardship, for Louisa esteemed her—and Jane and Mary too—as highly as she had ever esteemed any other woman, even her own sister. Thanking her friend, Louisa rose and departed the room, taking no notice of the curious looks she attracted from the rest of the company. As Mr. Bennet's study was across the hall from the sitting-room, within moments she was knocking on the gentleman's door. Though there was a long hesitation before the man inside answered, soon it came, and Louisa opened the door and stepped into the room.

? The way Mr. Bennet smiled and greeted her told Louisa all she needed to know about this man's regard for her, if there was still any question. Though he had been sitting at his desk, he rose at once and approached her, grasping her hand and bestowing a lingering kiss on it that set her skin to tingling. When he addressed her, it was with good humor, proving whatever weighed on his mind was not a matter to ruin his mood forever.

? "Miss Bingley," said he, "I might have expected you to come to my room. In this, I suspect Lizzy's hand, for to mislead her is nigh impossible."

? "No," said Louisa, confirming his conjecture. "Elizabeth suggested that whatever is troubling you, it is not a matter of the estate or other such trivial concerns."

? "It is not," said Mr. Bennet with a chuckle, shaking his head at his daughter's perception.

? "If it is agreeable to you," said Louisa, "I should be happy to listen to whatever you wish to say."

? "I do not know if I should," said Mr. Bennet. "Learning what ails me this morning may change your perception of me beyond repair. I could not bear it if I lost your good opinion."

? "I do not give or rescind my good opinion on a whim," replied Louisa. "I doubt there is anything you have done that will provoke me to think the worst of you, and I suspect you are stating opinions that are not your own."

? Mr. Bennet offered an elegant shrug. "Someone must play devil's advocate. At Longbourn, either Lizzy or I assume the role, though Mary sometimes does it credit."

? "Then perhaps you should tell me," replied Louisa. "I am willing to listen."

? Still holding her hand, Mr. Bennet nodded and led her to a pair of chairs near the hearth, seeing her seated before he settled himself on the other. The door Louisa had left ajar as she had promised Elizabeth, but even if she had closed it, she did not think Mr. Bennet would have minded. They were adults who knew what they wanted from life. Even if someone should accuse them of improper actions behind closed doors, Louisa supposed neither would hesitate to do what was required to restore their reputations.

? "Last night," said Mr. Bennet, beginning his explanation, "I thought to deal with Mr. Collins's books." With a gesture to the bookshelves along the wall on the far side of the room, he continued: "It is a task I neglected since I came to Longbourn, for there was always something more important calling for my attention.

? "Mr. Collins had poor taste in literature, in my opinion." Mr. Bennet chuckled and shook his head. "Perhaps that is only my opinion, for I prefer histories, works of satire, and, given my previous profession it should not surprise you, certain religious treatises."

? "Oh?" asked Louisa, arching a brow at him. "Should I be concerned you will quote Fordyce to me?"

? The gentleman chuckled and eyed her with affection. "No, Miss Bingley, you need have no fear of that. The good reverend's sermons were a source of amusement at the seminary I attended, for they were too restrictive when he penned them, to say nothing of todays' customs. Not long after Mary's twelfth birthday, I discovered her reading it. After explaining the silliness of Fordyce's contentions, we burned that book together. I do not condone book burning, but I will make an exception for such works of limited value."

? Louisa nodded, allowing Mr. Bennet to return to his account from their tangent.

? "While I was going through the books, I discovered a letter set in one of them." Mr. Bennet's eyes took on a distant look. "It was in Mr. Collins's copy of the Bible, to own the truth. I can only assume he put it in that book because it was the best possibility of my locating it. Had it been another, I might have put it in the box and remained ignorant of its existence."

? "Mr. Collins left you a letter?" asked Louisa, feeling all the surprise of the situation.

? "Shocking, is it not?" said Mr. Bennet. "Receiving a letter from him was no more expected than to receive the estate in his will—it never occurred to me to suppose he might have left me something of an explanation for his actions."

? "It was an explanation?"

? "A final confession, I believe," said Mr. Bennet, "though I wonder if he informed Mr. Smith of his change of heart. If he did, Smith mentioned nothing of it to me."

? "Mr. Smith is the parson at Longbourn church, is he not?" asked Louisa.

? "He is," confirmed the gentleman. "That is another matter I have not seen to, for Smith wishes to retire. I do not suppose you have some relation to care for, do you?"

? This last, Mr. Bennet spoke with a measure of humor, prompting Louisa to laugh. "No one in my immediate family has any interest in the church as a profession. We are a family of business if you recall."

? "I do," agreed Mr. Bennet. "Then I suppose I should send to the seminary for candidates, for I have no other for whom I must provide."

? "What did Mr. Collins say in his letter?" asked Louisa, directing her companion back to the original subject.

? "It was dated more than five years ago," replied Mr. Bennet. "Mr. Collins confessed his greed and arrogance led him to cheat my father from his due as heir to the estate, and he apologized for it. He states he came to regret his actions later in his life, particularly after he lost his son." Mr. Bennet paused and grimaced. "With his wife long deceased and his son also gone, it seems he had ample time to consider his actions."

? "That speaks well to his character," said Louisa, not quite knowing what else she should say. "Perhaps he acted without honor when he was a young man, but it seems he repented."

? Mr. Bennet nodded, still distracted. "With that assessment, I can only agree; but I will return to that later.

? "You see," continued Mr. Bennet, releasing a pent-up sigh, "I owe my present position to him. Not only did he repent of his deeds and return the estate to me, but to further make amends, he lived frugally, saving every penny he could and willing the entire amount to me. That is the reason I could settle amounts on my daughters, though as a father, I hope you will forgive me if I suggest the amount they each have does not even begin to approximate their value as young ladies."

? "No, indeed," murmured Louisa.

? "Furthermore," said Mr. Bennet, his countenance turning darker, "he relates the extent to which his cousin, Mr. Philips, descended to induce him to change his mind. Philips and his son were not happy to learn Mr. Collins intended to return the estate to my control and tried to persuade him to change the will to make them the heirs."

? "From what you told me of the man," replied Louisa, "I cannot say that I am surprised."

? "No, I suppose not," replied Bennet, "though I learned yet again the wisdom of avoiding condemnation. ‘Judge not, that ye be not judged,' our savior said. Of that sin, I have not been innocent myself."

? This was the crux of Mr. Bennet's reflections, Louisa thought, but before she could say anything on the subject, he continued to speak.

? "Mr. Philips, it appears, is a covetous man, though I shall say nothing more against him. Mr. Collins warned me in his letter of Philips's wishes and suggested I do not trust him to represent me. As I already knew much of Philips, I kept my affairs from him and used a solicitor in Stevenage."

? "Yes, I remember," said Louisa.

? Mr. Bennet offered a shrug. "As a parson, I might consider it my duty to warn the sinner of the consequences of his actions. Even if I should attempt it, Philips would not listen, and I am no longer an acting parson. Thus, I shall leave him to his folly. As Mr. Collins grew older, he lost some of his faculties, and realizing this, he directed his staff to keep Philips away from him, fearing he would do what his father had done with my grandfather. Thus, he frustrated Philips in all his schemes."

? This business was, Louisa thought, further evidence of just what an excellent man Mr. Bennet was. Mr. Collins had behaved badly, cheating his family out of their due and taking the spoils for himself, and no one would condemn Mr. Bennet if he held to the opinion that Mr. Collins had been a sinner of the first order. Yet when confronted by the truth, Mr. Bennet chastised himself for his feelings of resentment that were natural in such a situation. Forgive and forget was a worthy maxim, one that any man should strive to live by. Louisa was not about to allow Mr. Bennet to wallow in self-reproach for being naught but a man.

? "Mr. Bennet," said she, drawing him from his reflections, "can I suppose you blame yourself for your opinion of Mr. Collins?"

? "I am a parson," replied the gentleman. "It is my duty to declare the good word and warn against such failings of pride and vanity. I should not have allowed my bitterness such control over my life, and for this, I am heartily ashamed."

? "What control do you call it?" demanded Louisa. "From what I see, you have had certain opinions about Mr. Collins; absent other information, is it surprising you would think that of him?"

? Mr. Bennet shook his head. "The knowledge was not mine, but I should not have assumed; I should have known better."

? "It is not sound, sir," insisted Louisa. "You are a man, with all the frailties and faults such a condition entails. Perhaps you thought more ill of Mr. Collins than you should have, but is that not why God commands us to repent? What I see before me is a penitent man, one determined to do better."

? The chuckles that escaped Mr. Bennet's mouth were evidence of his returning good mood. "You are correct, of course. Part of repentance is to accept where one has failed, contemplate and then put into action the determination to do better. I have been in this study all day considering my error—perhaps it is time to move to the next step."

? "An excellent suggestion, sir," said Louisa.

? His equilibrium restored, Mr. Bennet looked at Louisa with affection, such that she felt her cheeks heat. She did not remove her gaze from his, however; perhaps her association with the man's second daughter had transferred Elizabeth's courage to her.

? "You see clearly, Miss Bingley," said Mr. Bennet. "Far more than most others, I should think."

? "It is naught but sense," replied she. "I sat through enough sermons on the subject to know how to act. The trick is always to take that instruction and apply it to one's life."

? "That it is," agreed Mr. Bennet. "It is the step that most often proves elusive."

? "Then shall we return to the sitting-room and join our families?"

? "If you are willing, I should like to delay that for a few moments," replied Mr. Bennet.

? The man's regard brought a fluttering to Louisa's midsection, anticipation for what she now knew she wanted. If his look was any indication, she thought she would receive it sooner than she had any right to expect.

? "It occurs to me, Miss Bingley, that you are the sort of woman I need in my life." Mr. Bennet paused and offered a wistful smile. "My late wife, Maggie, was a good sort of woman, but she was also flighty and possessed an uncertain temperament. Perhaps it is not wise to speak of a lost love when proposing to a new love, but I wish you to understand that while I loved and esteemed her, this connection we have built together is more suited to our temperaments. We are well-matched, I believe, and I would like to know if you agree."

? "You already know my sentiments, I should think," replied Louisa, delighted with Mr. Bennet's assurances. "I shall even overlook the mention of your first wife in deference for your admiring words."

? Mr. Bennet laughed, the sound so infectious that she joined him at once. The man reached forward and grasped her hand, holding it between his own as he regarded her through affectionate eyes.

? "I thank you for that, Miss Bingley. A proposal is not something with which any man becomes proficient, for it is an event that happens but rarely. The only point I wish to clarify before proceeding is the length of our acquaintance. Should you feel it is too early for an engagement, I am happy to continue courting you."

? "Do you wish it?" asked Louisa.

? "No, I do not, for I already know what I want." Mr. Bennet offered a shrug. "In the eyes of society, we are still newly acquainted. Yet I am a man who has lived in the world and has three beautiful daughters only a few years younger than you. I do not need months of courting rituals to know that I wish to propose to you."

? "Then, Mr. Bennet," said Louisa, "I believe you may proceed in whatever manner you deem fit. Those months and rituals you mentioned are unnecessary."

? Mr. Bennet grinned, which made him appear much younger than he was. "Then, Miss Bingley, would you do me the honor of accepting my proposal? I promise to cherish and love you all the days of our lives."

? "Nothing would make me happier," said Louisa, feeling the tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

? Mr. Bennet leaned in and brushed her lips in their first kiss, then brought Louisa in close to rest her head on his shoulder. Louisa sighed in pure contentment, which turned into a soft giggle when a thought crossed her mind.

? "I hope your mirth is not for the manner of my proposal," said Mr. Bennet, and she could hear the amusement in his voice.

? "Not at all," replied she, sitting up from the awkward position caused by their separate chairs. "Charles and I teased Caroline in the carriage this morning about our romantic entanglements. The thought occurred that I am the first to have her situation resolved—I suppose it is justified, as I am the eldest."

? "We shall also be the first to marry," replied Mr. Bennet. "I am not a young man, and I do not wish to wait for months to meet my bride at the altar. A month should be long enough for an appropriate engagement."

? "I agree," said Louisa.

? "Then I suppose I must seek your brother's permission?"

? Louisa laughed. "I need no permission, not even from Charles. But I should be happy if you would ask for his blessing."

? "Then I shall do so. A few moments ago, you asked if I wished to return to our families. Shall we join them now and share our good news?"

? "Nothing would make me happier."

? So, they rose and quit the room.