Chapter 19

L ydia Bennet was used to being the tallest woman in any room, so when the unknown lady with the stern look entered the nursery, she was intimidated by the fact she was almost a head taller than herself.

“I am Mrs Elsa Doubtfire, the companion your parents employed to educate Miss Catherine and yourself. I am here to determine if you have the capacity to learn and change, or if you are to be sent to Westmorland. If you are sent to the school in that far distant county, I believe your parents informed you that you will remain there for at least two years,” the lady announced firmly. “Your father received a letter from the Mother Superior, and they have a place for you.”

Despite her unusual height, as the lady before her was only a servant in Lydia’s eyes, she decided she could direct some of her frustrations at the woman. “If I am to speak to one who is here to serve me, I want my parents present,” Lydia demanded petulantly.

“I have been told you are not as unintelligent as you act, why would you force me to tell your parents that the only option is to send you away?”

“That is what they all want. They are all jealous of me, do not love me, and want me sent far away from here.” Lydia forced out some crocodile tears, which always worked on her mother in the past. She wilfully ignored the fact her mother was no longer taken in by her machinations.

“No, Miss Lydia, that is where you are wrong. I am here because they do love you and want you to succeed. After what you did, most families would have cast you out without a second thought, especially when your actions could be imputed onto your sisters. If your family was as you claim, you would have been on your way to the convent and school of the Sisters of the Eternal Hope in Westmorland even before I arrived and was employed. You silly child, the only one you are hurting is yourself.”

Lydia sat down on the bed with her mouth hanging open as the lady before her verbally lambasted her. Before she could think of a pithy response, Mrs Doubtfire continued.

“And of what pray tell should your sisters be jealous? That you show your immaturity each time you act or open your mouth? That you are loud, brash, and selfish in the extreme? That you like to dress and flirt like a light skirted harlot? We all know where that behaviour led you. You were immature enough to surrender your virtue to a man who cared not a whit about you. He cared no more for you than he did the other chits who gifted him their virtues, after believing his honeyed tongued drivel. The question remains—why did you do what you did? It was all because you were the one who was jealous of your sister, not the other way around as you nonsensically claimed.”

“You know about my allowing Lieutenant Wickham…” Lydia could not say the rest. “And I am not a child! I was out before my parents were cruel to me.” Lydia stood and stomped her slippered foot.

“Of course I do. Your parents wanted me to know everything pertinent related to you. That way I am able to factor everything into my decision about whether or not I am willing to even attempt to work with you. Thank you for proving my point about your being a child! Do you think mature ladies stamp their feet like you did? Your mother has admitted to spoiling you—you, Miss Lydia, are spoiled rotten! A girl of fourteen out indeed. It is unheard of. Further, you have proved you do not have the character or judgement to be in society,” Mrs Doubtfire returned.

“I will not do anything I do not want to do.” Lydia said the first thing which came into her head to try to regain the upper hand.

“It is a pity you say that. I was going to tell your parents I was willing to work to educate you so you may better yourself. Sadly, I can see your recalcitrance will be a problem, and therefore I see no other option than to inform your parents that you will be attending the school in Westmorland.” Without waiting for a response, Mrs Doubtfire stood and took a step towards the door.

Lydia understood she had shot her last bolt, and it had sailed well wide of the target. “Wait, please wait,” she wailed as genuine tears fell from her eyes.

Mrs Doubtfire took one more step, and stood still without turning. “What reason is there for me to waste any more time on a child like you who refuses to own her faults?”

“I know what I did was wrong,” Lydia cried. “And it is like I told Mama and Papa. I did it knowing I should not, but I wanted to make sure Mr Wickham liked me better than Lizzy. He told me that Lizzy was no fun as she refused to allow him to even kiss her hand, never mind what we did.”

“The reason Miss Elizabeth would allow him not a single liberty is that she knows how to behave like a lady, as do your sisters Miss Bennet and Miss Mary. Even Miss Catherine, while she followed you in most things, did not allow such things with any of the officers or any other man,” Mrs Doubtfire said as she turned around to face the crying girl. “It does not mean your older sisters are without fault, they have faults aplenty, as all of us mortals do, but behaving like you do is not one of them.”

“What do I need to do so that you will teach me and not have my parents send me to the convent?” Lydia begged.

“Let me be clearly understood. If I allow you a chance, it will be one chance, and one chance only. You will attend every lesson, and I must see you are working at them diligently. You must make progress, and I am never to see you behave like a petulant spoilt child again. You will dress like a girl who is in, and even if men come visit this house, there will be no flirting whatsoever. If you contravene any of the points I have listed, or your behaviour does not improve significantly, you will find yourself on your way to Westmorland. Do you understand?”

“I do! I swear I will behave and learn my lessons,” Lydia promised. Her tears began to cease when she saw she had a chance to remain at home.

“Even with all of this, you may not ever find a man of quality who is willing to marry you. A lady’s virtue is a precious thing, and each man expects to marry a maiden, something you will never be again. Do not let anyone fool you. Abstaining from relations until you do marry, if you ever do, will not make you a maiden again.” Mrs Doubtfire gave the girl a long hard look. “Remember, there will not be a second chance. As I will teach you, you will gain some accomplishments every gentlewoman should possess, and one of them is you will learn to play an instrument. I teach the pianoforte and the harp. When we begin our lessons, which will be before we break our fasts on the morrow—no more sleeping half of the day away—you may tell me which you choose. Do you have any questions?”

“No, Mrs Doubtfire, I do not,” Lydia responded demurely. The companion took her leave and Lydia waited for the click of the door being locked before she collapsed back onto her narrow bed. “Lydia Hattie Bennet, you have been given a chance. Do not waste it,” she admonished herself aloud.

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

When Mrs Doubtfire reported the content of the conversation she had had with Lydia to Mr and Mrs Bennet, they were both much gratified she had been able to break through Lydia’s hard shell. There was a chance their brash youngest daughter would have the possibility of a good life after all.

“What you said about her impetuous actions possibly affecting her ability to make a match is very true. Thankfully, she does not need to marry to gain security,” Bennett stated, but he did not explain what he meant and the companion did not ask.

“I will show you to your chamber, and please let me know if anything else is needed for your comfort,” Fanny offered.

“It is not necessary for you to trouble yourself, Mrs Bennet,” the companion insisted. “I am sure Mrs Hill will be able to assist me. I am your staff member so I do not expect the mistress of the estate to perform such a task.”

“Normally, I would not and Mrs Hill would perform the office,” Fanny acknowledged, “but I believe you are the only one who is able to work on our youngest, so rather than lose her for years, or forever, you are offering us a chance of her being able to have a good life. So no, showing you to your room is not below me.”

The lady protested no more. Fanny had her husband ring for Hill and imparted instructions for a footman to bring Mrs Doubtfire’s trunks to her chamber. With that done, Fanny showed the new member of their staff up to her room.

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

About a sennight after the companion began to educate the youngest Bennet sisters, Bingley and Miss Bennet announced they had set a date for their wedding. The two had chosen Saturday the eighteenth day of January to marry. With an engagement of close to two months no one would be able to accuse them of rushing for any reason.

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at the middle Bennet daughter with longing. Miss Mary Bennet had taken up residence in his heart, and even had Fitzwilliam wanted to evict her from that organ which he most certainly did not, he would not have been able. He who had ribbed William about his unrequited love for Miss Elizabeth, was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with Miss Mary. He had vowed, if only to himself, to wait until after Twelfth Night at the earliest to declare himself. He was not one to go back on his word, even when no one else was involved.

He would be leaving the area for at least two days on the morrow. It could possibly be longer if his sire demanded he remain in London, but as Richard had promised his father he would be back at Matlock House for a few days in December, he was hopeful he would be returning soon.

What was pulling him away on the morrow was that he, with a section of Forster’s soldiers, would be escorting Wicky to the First Royal Regiment of the Foot. As a member of the infantry, he would be right in front facing the French cavalry and cannon. He and Forster had been discussing how many days it would be before Private Wickham tried to run. Fitzwilliam’s wager had been by the second day where Forster had been more generous and put his money on a sennight or so. Thanks to a long and detailed letter to Colonel Haverstock, the one who would be in command of the First Regiment, informing him of the quality, or lack thereof, of the man who would be joining his men, Haverstock had written back to assure Fitzwilliam the platoon officers and section sergeant had all been made aware of the man who would be joining them. He assured Fitzwilliam that Wickham would be watched like a hawk watching its prey.

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

Bennet knew the time to speak to Fitzwilliam about his intentions regarding Mary was at hand. There was no missing the looks the man had directed at Mary when Jane and Bingley had let the date of their wedding be known. He was sure Fitzwilliam was a man of honour, otherwise he would have had this conversation before now. With the Colonel escorting the reprobate Wickham to London on the morrow, Bennet knew the time had come. He gave Fitzwilliam a pointed look.

As he sat ruminating, eventually Fitzwilliam noticed Bennet looking at him. As soon as the man had his attention, Bennet cocked his head towards the door. When Bennet rose, so did the Colonel and he followed the former to his study.

“Close the door, Fitzwilliam,” Bennet instructed as he took a seat behind his desk. He pointed to the chairs before it. Fitzwilliam sat. “What are your intentions towards my middle daughter?” Bennet asked without preamble.

Seeing that he had expected Bennet to ask this question at some point, Fitzwilliam did not flinch. “Entirely honourable,” he replied succinctly. “Had I not wanted Miss Mary to have a few more months past her nineteenth birthday, I would have requested a courtship from her already. I do not believe she is indifferent to me; she seems to get as much pleasure from spending time in my company as I do in hers.”

“Yes, I have seen that,” Bennet agreed. “I have some concerns, and they have nought to do with my questioning whether you are worthy of her. I know you are a man of honour, and I do not doubt you would be a fierce protector of my daughter if you were to marry.”

Fitzwilliam inclined his head in thanks for Bennet’s assessment of his character. He waited for him to continue speaking.

“You are the son of an earl. Not only that, but from what the Gardiners related to me, the talk in London is your brother, and please excuse me if I am being blunt, is not long for this world, is that not so?”

“Surely you do not hold my brother’s life choices and illness against me?” Fitzwilliam enquired with an indignant edge to his voice.

“Not at all! What I was trying to get to is the following. Even if the worst did not come to pass, would your parents and family accept Mary? What of the Ton ? You are the second son of a noble, and it is possible you may become the viscount. As high as you and your family are, I would not see one of my daughters scorned and ridiculed by society or even members of the family into which she was to marry. Add to the fact Mary is but the daughter of a lowly squire, you must have heard the reports of my daughters’ reputed non-existent dowries.” Bennet leaned forward, his elbows resting on his desk and his fingers steepled as he allowed Fitzwilliam time to cogitate.

“If I had ever been interested in one of the empty headed daughters of the Ton , I would have married some years ago. I am attracted to Miss Mary because she is not the same debutante London society seems to churn out as if made in the same manufactory. She is intelligent where they are vapid, nor does she agree with every word I say. In fact, when she disagrees, she is not shy about letting me know.”

“I have learnt she is a lot more like Lizzy than I was able to see before,” Bennet mused almost to himself.

“She has a dry wit,” Fitzwilliam continued, “and she is my match in every way. Where I am gregarious and extraverted, she is more reserved. If I searched all of the known world, I would not find her like.”

“That you love her, and yes, I can see you do, is not my question. I am certain that you would be an excellent husband to her, but you did not address my questions regarding your family and society,” Bennet declared. “I have no doubt if Mary was to become a countess one day she would be able to take on that role with aplomb. However, I do not want her to suffer for years with the slings and arrows of the Ton , or possible rejection by your parents.”

“It was not my intention to evade that part of your question. I wanted to make sure you understood the depth of my love and feelings for Miss Mary before I addressed those things.” Bennet inclined his head in acceptance of what Fitzwilliam said. “The only requirement my parents have is that the woman I choose is gently born.” Seeing Bennet was about to protest, he held up his hand. “The fact you have connections to trade would not matter, especially as my family are close to the Gardiners. They care not about fortune or connections; my family has more than enough of both. In fact, they have more than they know what to do with. As such, my parents will not only accept Miss Mary, if she agrees to accept me, they will welcome her with open arms and promote the match and smooth her way in society.

“That is not all. My mother is part of a group of friends which include many of the leading voices of the upper ten thousand. When my mother supports my choice, all of them, which include all the patronesses of Almack’s, not a few duchesses—one or two of whom are related to Her Majesty—and a slew of other wives of nobles, will be as vocal in their support. Anyone who would stand against them would do so at their societal peril.”

Bennet felt satisfied all of his concerns had been addressed satisfactorily. “In that case, if, when you make your request of Mary and she answers in the affirmative, you will have my consent and blessing.” Bennet looked at Fitzwilliam holding his eyes. “What I am about to tell you is not to be shared with anyone.”

” The Colonel nodded his agreement.

“Tales of our impecunious state have been greatly exaggerated…”

By the time Bennet had told all about his brother, Netherfield Park, and the dowries, Fitzwilliam was well and truly shocked, and he prized himself on hardly ever being surprised. “You hide this information well. There is not even a hint of it being spoken.”

“I was only made aware of the dowries in the last few months,” Bennet shared. “I knew Netherfield Park belonged to James, but I never thought about what was being done with the income for all of the years since my grandfather and then my mother were called home to God.”

“You, Bennet, are truly unique.” Fitzwilliam shook his head. “Almost a mythical creature.”

And what gives me that honour?” Bennet grinned sardonically.

“I know but a few men, a number I could count on the fingers of one hand, who would not have had their relative declared dead the day after the seventh year had passed. My father and Darcy are two of them.”

“I know James is alive, so even had I been grasping, I would have been committing fraud.”

“That is something that would not have inhibited most men. All they would have seen was the wealth and prestige they were gaining,” Fitzwilliam insisted. “You are entitled to be modest, but I know my assessment is accurate.” He was about to call Bennet out on not being truthful about his daughters’ dowries, when the Colonel replayed what he had said. No, he had been honest; he had said what is reputed .

“My suggestion is to speak to Mary before you depart. You can call it an unofficial courtship, but then she will be aware this is all leading somewhere,” Bennet stated when Fitzwilliam stood.

“I will do that,” Fitzwilliam accepted. Bennet stood as well. Fitzwilliam extended his hand, and the two men shook.

Bennet looked at the letters on his desk which Hill had placed there just before his meeting with Fitzwilliam. He lifted one, and seeing the one underneath it, his hand froze in mid-air. There looking up at him was a rather battered letter in a script he had not seen for over five and twenty years.

“James!” was all Bennet could say before he felt tears prick his eyes.