Chapter 1

Longbourn, October 1811

T homas Bennet sat in his study at Longbourn, across his desk from his brothers-in-law Frank Phillips and Edward Gardiner. Surely what they had just told him could not be true. “Please repeat what you just said,” Bennet requested as he shook his head to make sure he was not dreaming.

“Which part?” Phillips asked for clarification.

“All of it. I need to make sure I am not dreaming! And if all of this is true, then why is this the first I am hearing of it?” Bennet demanded.

“I had to abide by the terms of the will. As we have not heard from your younger brother for five and twenty years, we can have him declared dead…” Phillips began to state and stopped at the angry look from Bennet.

“Until I have absolute proof of his death, I will not ever allow that to happen while I still draw breath,” Bennet stated emphatically. “Besides, you are aware I know where he is.”

Phillips raised his hands in surrender.

“I heard what you said. Are you telling me this is all true?” Phillips and Gardiner both nodded.

Bennet liked to make sport of people, but of one thing he was certain. Neither man seated opposite him in his study at Longbourn would ever make fun of such a thing as they had just related to him. “You need not repeat it all, tell me why now?”

“Regardless of what Fanny thought in the past, Jane has never been seriously courted before now. The tenant at Netherfield Park has shown consistent and serious intentions towards her,” Phillips explained. “Under the clauses which restricted my revealing anything until now, if one of the daughters who is affected by the will is being courted in a serious fashion, I am allowed to make such a disclosure to her father.”

“Gardiner, I am a fool that I did not invest Fanny’s dowry and every spare penny with you from the time I got married,” Bennet shook his head. It felt like he was coming out of a stupor which had begun when he had read James’s letter on his wedding day.

As Bennet thought about his indolence and withdrawal from his family over the years, he could not but be embarrassed. Even worse was the feeling his cousin William Collins, the one who stood to inherit unless James responded to his plea, would run Longbourn into the ground, and he had felt unhappy about that. How had he allowed things to come to this? Unfortunately, he knew how. He had cut himself off from his family, except for Jane, Lizzy, and Mary, although he had given the lion’s share of his time to Lizzy because of her intelligence and similar wit to his own.

Now, thanks to his late Grandfather Morris’, and his departed Mother’s combined foresight, not only were his daughters’ futures secure, but they were heiresses. If James returned to England alive, and his daughter still lived, even taking into account his brother’s second son, the share for each of his girls would be reduced, but that would still leave an enormous fortune for each of them.

“Bennet,” Phillips called out, bringing him out of his thoughts. “You have to start taking your family duties seriously, especially with the militia officers in the town, and the way your youngest two shift after them. By the way, they are not the only ones in the thrall of an officer.”

“Of whom do you speak, none of my older three daughters are interested in officers,” Bennet claimed.

“Did you not listen some weeks ago when I told you of your Lizzy listening to Lieutenant Wickham’s tale of woe and lapping up every word as if it was gospel? She is your intelligent daughter, yet she allowed an insult from Mr Darcy at the October assembly to make her forget about critical thought,” Phillips warned. “Did she relate his tale to you?”

“Lizzy wanted to tell me something the next day after they had been to the card party at the Widow Hamilton’s house, but I was not in the mood to listen as I had started a new book,” Bennet admitted with chagrin. “I heard about the insult Mr Darcy issued, and how since then he always looks at Lizzy to find fault, especially when she nursed Jane to health at Netherfield Park…that reminds me, pretentious Miss Bingley will have an apoplexy when she learns the estate her brother is leasing belongs to a Bennet. I have heard about the way she boasts about her dowry. I would pay to see her face when she is told each of my girls have a fortune which dwarfs hers.”

“It is good that the girls have a secure future,” Gardiner interjected. “However Bennet, it is thanks to your late grandfather’s, and more especially your late mother’s, planning and not your own. You say you want to begin to save now. Regardless of the inheritance from Mr Morris to your mother and from her to her grandchildren, ask yourself how much better off would your family be, if you had done your duty as a father and husband from the day you married my sister?” Gardiner paused to allow his words to sink in. “I love Lizzy, like I love all of my nieces, but even if you will not see it, Lizzy has a propensity to jump to conclusions and will doggedly cling to her initial opinions without looking at proof she may be wrong. Maddie knows the Darcys from Derbyshire, and although she has not seen this Mr Darcy since he was a youth in his teens, she does not think the story the lieutenant told Lizzy, about which she wrote to us with abandon, rings true with what she knows of the family.”

Bennet hung his head. “You both are correct, I have used excuses to avoid doing my full duty as the master of this estate, a husband, and a father. I need to ask Lizzy to relay the tale Mr Wickham told her so I may judge it for myself.” He looked up with resolution in his eyes. No one who knew him had seen such since before his younger brother took flight. “That stops today from this very instant, not tomorrow. Whether they like it or not, I will take charge of my family and the estate. It will begin with me leaving my study and attending the ball at Netherfield Park on the last Tuesday of the month. Rather than stay home as has been my wont in the past, I will attend and pay attention to my wife and daughters. I need to make my own observations before making my decisions based on that.” He turned to Gardiner. “From what Lizzy told me, this Wickham fellow grew up on Mr Darcy’s estate. Would you have Maddie write to her friends in Lambton and ask if any of them know of the man, and what he is about?”

“That will be a pleasure,” Gardiner declared. “Maddie wanted to suggest that to Lizzy, but she knew our niece would not be happy if what was returned was something negative about Lieutenant Wickham. She would only want to hear that which would confirm her opinions of the insufferable Mr Darcy, as she calls him.”

“Do not think I am unaware of the blindness Lizzy has when she sketches a character. As much as I love her, she too will need to pay heed and make some changes,” Bennet promised. “I have heard rumblings, which I have ignored, about the behaviour of my two youngest around the officers. Please tell me it is not as bad as I suspect.”

“In my opinion it is worse, which is why it is imperative you keep the truth of their fortunes from becoming public knowledge. Every fortune hunter will be trying to compromise them,” Phillips warned. “I would wager should Kitty and more so Lydia, discover they are heiresses, it will be shouted from the rooftops.”

“Phillips, I want my will changed to reflect that if a man compromises one of my daughters, or until they are five and twenty, if they marry without prior permission, or heaven forbid elope, they will retain nothing more than the one thousand pounds on Fanny’s death they would have received before this was known,” Bennet requested.

“There are already some protections built in from Beth Bennet’s will, but I will make the changes to reflect what you want,” Phillips agreed.

“Why do you say Kitty and Lydia behave worse than I suspect?” Bennet queried after he had ruminated on Phillips’s words.

“They both flirt outrageously in Meryton with any man wearing a scarlet coat. If you are not careful, they will be ruined and our other nieces along with them,” Phillips reported. “Where Lydia leads, Kitty follows her meekly.

“That is something else I must correct. I call them the silliest girls in the realm, but have done nothing to check and educate them,” Bennet pinched the bridge of his nose. How had he allowed it to come to this? Before he could answer his own question, Gardiner spoke.

“If you follow through on what you have said here, then it can only portend well for your children,” Gardiner opined. “What of Fanny? What will you tell her?”

“After I eat much humble pie and beg her pardon for not showing her how much I love her for so many years now, I will trust her with the information,” Bennet decided. “Her worry for the future has always been for our daughters more than herself, so finding out the girls are secure regardless of whether they marry will go a very long way to banishing her so called nerves.”

“Do you have any more questions for us before we take our leave?” Phillips asked.

“No, I do not. I have more than enough on which to cogitate. Gardiner, when do you return to Maddie and the children?” Bennet enquired.

“It is too late to reach London before dark today, so I will depart from our brother’s house at dawn on the morrow. If I remain here, you know there will be many questions about why I am here without Maddie and the children. I will send an express to Maddie and ask her to write to those in Lambton about Mr Wickham, and she will ask them if anything is known of Mr Darcy acting in a fashion like the lieutenant has accused him,” Gardiner responded.

Bennet stood and shook the hand of each of his brothers-in-law. He needed to speak to Fanny. However he had much on which to think first, as long as that buffoon Collins did not invade his study to relate more of Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s perfections.

He did not tell Phillips and Gardiner that he had swallowed his pride and had written to his brother almost three months past. If James was still living, and he prayed he was, he could only hope this missive would break the barrier between them.

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

“I do not see why we must hold a ball for all of the riff-raff in this backwater country,” Miss Caroline Bingley whinged.

It was not the first time Miss Bingley issued the same complaint to her brother, Charles Bingley. It also was not the first time he ignored her. He was too busy dreaming of his angel who he intended to dance three sets with at the upcoming ball.

Seeing her brother would not respond, Miss Bingley turned towards Mr Darcy who was annoyingly sitting on an armchair apart from any other seat in the drawing room, making it so she could not sit next to him. “Surely you agree, Mr Darcy, that we should not be casting pearls before the swine.” she cooed. “We are used to the refined society of London. It is so cruel that my brother forces us to entertain these country mushrooms, regardless of how fine their eyes are.”

Darcy took a deep breath. How could he have been so thoughtless as to reveal his attraction to Miss Elizabeth to Miss Bingley, of all people that night at Lucas Lodge. She had been more cloying than normal, and that was saying something. He supposed he had said the last thing he knew she would want to hear. That being said, it had been an error. Since then each time Miss Bingley saw Miss Elizabeth, her talons were unsheathed.

He could not but be impressed that at every attempt of Miss Bingley to fling her barbs at Miss Elizabeth, especially during the four days she had been hosted at Netherfield Park, she had never responded in kind. Oh yes, she had issued setdowns, but in such a clever way Miss Bingley was left wondering if she had been complimented or insulted.

Even though she was the daughter of a gentleman, it was a great pity that Miss Elizabeth was not a suitable partner for him. Never had he found a woman, regardless of her pedigree, who had excited his attention even a fraction of how much the raven haired, emerald-green eyed beauty that was Miss Elizabeth Bennet had. While she had been in the same house, he had felt himself being pulled to her, and the next moment ignoring her to stop the overpowering desire to be in her company. He stopped himself because he did not want to raise expectations he knew he could not fulfil.

Regardless of Giana’s near elopement with that bastard George Wickham, he had to make a brilliant match to benefit her. Besides, his father had told him to make a good match before he passed away. He meant one with connections and wealth…did he not?

“Actually Miss Bingley, your brother is doing the same thing I would if I were trying to establish myself in a higher social circle, and I was new to a neighbourhood,” Darcy replied.

Miss Bingley’s face took on a deep shade of puce. Not only had Mr Darcy not agreed with her, but he had obliquely referred to the fact they were the children of a tradesman. Why was he so obtuse that he had not offered for her yet? Did he not see she would make the perfect mistress for his estate and his houses? She had a large dowry and had been educated at the exclusive Miss Hathaway’s School for Discerning Young Ladies. As she asked herself this, Miss Bingley felt some doubt creep in. Did Mr Darcy see her as nought but the daughter of a tradesman, regardless of her fortune and accomplishments? She shook them off.

“In that case, we will show these people what a higher class London affair is supposed to be like,” Miss Bingley sniffed. She turned her attention to her older sister, Louisa Hurst.

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

“Wickham, how is it you volunteered to take the dispatches to militia headquarters in London when it will cause you to miss the ball at Netherfield Park?” Lieutenant Denny asked.

“Do you remember what I told you about that prig Darcy? I prefer not to have him make things unpleasant for all at the ball. And who would not enjoy a few nights in London being paid for by the regiment? I told you I know some ladies in Town, and I will enjoy calling on them.” Wickham waggled his eyebrows at the other officer.

“Have you not boasted to one and all that it is not you, but Mr Darcy who must go away? Yet, it seems you want to avoid him,” Denny pressed.

Wickham hated nothing more than to be called out on one of his lies. He had to school his features so Denny would not see his reaction. “It has nothing to do with Darcy,” Wickham dissembled. “None of the young ladies hereabout are willing to surrender their virtues. Hence when the Colonel mentioned a few days in London, my urge to have a tumble overrode my desire to needle that prig.” He had no problem prevaricating about not being able to take some maidens’ virtues.

Seeing that his fellow officer did not like being pushed, Denny decided to back off. He told himself to be circumspect around Wickham as his instincts indicated that the man lied as easily as he breathed. “In that case, I wish you a pleasurable trip.”

Knowing he had been able to talk his way out of the potential problem, Wickham relaxed. After Denny left his billet, Wickham could not help but think about his failed attempt to elope with Georgiana Darcy. Damn Darcy for arriving a few days earlier than expected. All of the money he had lost by not marrying the mousey girl; as much as he would like to start a scandal and have Darcy suffer, there was a good reason he would not, and that reason was named Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was the Darcys’ cousin and co-guardian of Miss Darcy, and the only man of whom Wickham was well and truly afraid. The prig had threatened, and Wickham was well aware it was not an idle one, that should a word of anything to do with his sister even be whispered in society, he would untether his cousin and allow him to do what he will to exact punishment. Wickham was sure he knew what form that punishment would take—it would be his life which would be forfeit. In that case, he was certain it would be an excruciating death. Hence, blackening Miss Darcy’s name was not an option.

It was the reason he had told Miss Elizabeth the story as soon as she told him how much she disdained Darcy. That way she could spread the tale, and his hands would be clean. All he said about little Georgiana was that she was proud and arrogant like her brother. No hint of anything to do with Ramsgate.

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

“Maria and Abe, do you think Pa will be angry with me if I show him the letters Ma never destroyed. She made me promise before she went to heaven that I would give them to him when I thought the time was right,” Henry Bennet, the eldest son of James Bennet, asked his siblings.

“Henk, you know me. I thought we should have shown them to Pa years ago,” Maria, who was eighteen, opined. “Ma always hoped Pa would be able to reconcile with our family in England. Who knows, we may be related to royalty,” she teased. The name she called her older brother was thanks to her Van Buren family and their Dutch roots.

“I agree with my much older sister,” Abraham, who was called Abe by his family, and was sixteen in February past, added.

The three Bennet children loved their father as much as any child had ever loved a parent, however, the melancholy they saw in him was only getting worse. They knew they needed to do something. As they were thinking about what to do, Jeremiah who was the manservant in the house—akin to an English butler—a freed slave cleared his throat.

“I has a letter from that there place in England you tol’ me ‘bout,” Jeremiah stated as he lifted the sealed missive.

“Thank you, Jeremiah,” Maria said as she retrieved it from his large hand. “We will make sure it is dealt with properly. She waited until the tall man had gone. “It is from Mr T Bennet, I bet that is Pa’s brother, the one of whom he will not speak.”

“Well this is a sign if I have ever seen one,” Henry insisted. “Pa will be away tonight as he has been working in the north fields, and he will sleep in the nearby cottage. When he returns in the morning, we will go see him, and do what we must to have him read the letters.”

Henry’s sister and brother agreed with him. It was time to learn about the family, of which they knew nothing.