Twelvetide Chaos

by Deborah E Pearson

  “All this fuss over what is already done.” Lady Bertram said in her quiet way. “There is a bigger problem we have with Fanny. I really depend on her, but after…” Lady Bertram loved Fanny Price and still found it difficult to understand her niece’s behaviour the previous day.

  “Lady Bertram” Lady Catherine said in her imperious way. “Your niece was clearly influenced by my own. Which leads back to nobody but that awful Mr Wickham. They both need to have a firm hand, the difference between our nieces is that yours has hope for redemption, but mine never will.”

  “I do not know why Fanny would do such things. We have given her a good home ever since she was ten years old and my sister had too many children to provide for. My husband and I provided the best education for her and my children. Yet, now all of them have stepped off the path that we taught them. I really do not know what I shall do without Fanny Price.” Lady Bertram moaned, Susan Price went to the side and made up a calming tonic for her aunt. It was a closely held secret that in time of extreme upset Lady Bertram would use a tonic of port wine with the smallest amount of opium added to it.

  Mrs Bennet called once more for her smelling salts. Her hysterics were getting out of control, secretly Susan wished she could give the same tonic to Mrs Bennet. The potential ruin for Jane and Lydia, Miss Price and Georgiana Wickham was too much for her. Mrs Bennet’s caring heart was overwhelmed, and her mind overburdened with the way that those girls' minds had been twisted and tortured. Mrs Bennet had been worried over her girls for the last twenty-two years. Her worries over Longbourn’s entailment and Jane and Lydia being so easily manipulated, meant that Mrs Bennet frequently had visions of poor outcomes for her daughters, both waking and sleeping. Now the events of the previous day were weighing heavily on her soul, almost taunting her with evidence her visions were correct. The chattering of her friends and family was making her worries even worse. Jane was not behaving like herself. What was it that man was saying to her that was making her behave so unlike herself? There was something about the two of them that looked oddly like falling in love, while at the same time it looked like an odd friendship. There would be nothing for it, Mrs Bennet would have to go across and make the acquaintance of the strange young man, that she so far had been unable to take any time to give notice. It would give her a break from the gossiping women at the other end of the room that had not cease to talk about the problems arising from the previous day’s events.

  Jane looked up as her mother approached. This was the second time her mother had approached her side of the morning room. “Mama, is there anything wrong?”

  “No, nothing wrong, Jane. I just wished to have a chat with you and Mr Rushworth.” The narrowing of Jane’s eyes told Mrs Bennet everything. Jane resented her mother’s interference in her conversation with this young man. Given the young man’s history Mrs Bennet did not expect that she would have any pleasure at all in this conversation, after all he was not known for his eloquence nor for his wit. Mrs Bennet had only heard him talking of his misfortune with his first wife in the odd few conversations she had overheard. However, this unfortunate young man was to surprise her. She turned to him now, “Mr Rushworth, I apologise that I have not been able talk much with you before now.”

  “No need to apologise, Madam” the pompous young man answered before she could finish her speech. “Your eldest daughter has made me feel quite at home.” Mrs Bennet cringed. What was he going to come out with next? “You need have no fear of me, Madam. I am quite content. I have been telling your daughter of the little play that we were to put on at Mansfield Park, I would have given her one of my two and forty speeches, but alas I cannot seem to recall any of them now.”

  It could not be could it? Mrs Bennet put on her best fake smile, “Pray Mr Rushworth, what was the name of the play? Perhaps we have a copy here in our library.” It was not the play itself that interested Mrs Bennet, but the man and she would find out more before assuming on the idea forming in her mind.

  “Why it was…” Rushworth screwed up his face in the same way that Lydia did when she could not remember something that she knew she should. Mrs Bennet’s interests rose further, but she left the young man to think. She watched Jane who patiently sat next to this young man with an interest equally as keen as her mother’s. “Why I am not sure that I can recall what play it was, after all. I know I did not imagine the play.”

  “It was Lover’s Vows” came the quiet, but contemptuous voice from the corner of the room. Miss Fanny Price was now speaking up. “The play itself is not suitable for anything but the lowest of theatres. Yet my cousins deemed it to be a play that they wanted to perform in front of strangers, no less.”

  “Hush, Fanny!” came the quiet but assured voice of Lady Bertram.

  “Lover’s Vows” Mrs Bennet said quietly and then sent Jane to see if her father had a copy. Had she known the content of that play beforehand, Mrs Bennet would have been much affronted that it should have even been mentioned in her morning room. It took Jane a few minutes to before she returned to the morning room with the book in hand. Her determination to prove her suspicions meant that she was not quite prepared for the vileness that was put forward from the play. She randomly flipped open the play and showed it to Mr Rushworth, who took it from her and in a halting voice began to read the part of count Cassel.

  “‘Not in a grave, serious, reflecting man such as you, I grant. But in a gay, lively, inconsiderate, flimsy, frivolous coxcomb, such as myself, it is excusable: for me to keep my word to a woman, would be deceit: 'tis not expected of me.’” Rushworth read. “Oh, but this is but the last of my speeches, let me read some of my earlier ones.”

  “No, thank you. I have heard quite enough!” In her rage, Mrs Bennet quite forgot hysterics over the ruin of two of her daughters.

  “It occurs to me that we should perform this play for Twelfth Night.” Mr Rushworth said with some hope.

  “Over my dead body” Mrs Bennet snarled. “This is the value that you and your friends put on a woman’s honour. It is no surprise with morality like this trash that you lost your wife, sir.” There was a muted gasp around the room. None had ever seen Mrs Bennet thus, and to refer so cruelly to a man’s misfortunes was something that was out of Mrs Bennet’s character. She was, however not yet done and turning on Lady Bertram and Mrs Norris with the play in her hand, she asked, “and is this the kind of trash that you have allowed your family to read and to perform in home theatricals? You sit there, indolent, treating a member of your own family as a servant, allowing them to read this kind of trash and wonder why they have all turned out without much morality? You two ladies are nothing more than hypocrites.”

  Lady Bertram looked incensed but said nothing, her conscience was pricked, but she had not the energy to defend herself. As was their usual habit, it was Mrs Norris who spoke for the two women. “My dear Madam, that is not the kind of morality that we espouse at Mansfield Park. That play was settled upon by the young people themselves after much discussion, and I assure you that had I known that it was such a revolting piece of trash I would never have given my support to their little performance. Sir Thomas, of course, was highly aggravated by the whole thing and put a stop to it when he returned from the Indies.”

  “Surely you must have read this vile work or heard the young people as they rehearsed it.” Mrs Bennet would have carried on, but Miss Price interrupted.

  “Madam, there were only two voices of dissent against performing this play, until my uncle arrived home. It was I and my cousin Edmund who objected. Edmund gave in to the pressure from our family and friends, which left me as the sole objector. I could do nothing.”

  “My poor Mary, poor Catherine. What have they married into?” Mrs Bennet flung herself back into her usual chair. “Jane Bennet, you are not to see or talk to that man there ever again. Mr Rushworth, I thank you for coming to support my daughters on their wedding day. However, I now request that you leave my home and never darken its doorstep again. I shall m
ake sure that my husband and butler know that we are not at home to you.”

  “Mother, you forget that I am of age.” Jane said quietly as Mr Rushworth left Longbourn.

  “I forget nothing; however, you are still my daughter and I can still make sure that I and your father disinherit you. While you stay under our roof, you will obey our dictates.”

  “Then I shall find myself a way to leave this house. I enjoyed Mr Rushworth’s company.”

  “You will do no such thing. You will stay with us or your aunt and uncle in town, and you will find yourself a new suitor, one that you will marry next time.” Mrs Bennet said.

  “I will find myself someone I love”

  “Love has nothing to do with marriage. Marriage is a business transaction and you will find yourself someone who will provide for you properly as a woman of your station deserves.” Mrs Bennet was determined that the damage that had been done to her family would not be allowed to continue. She would make right this damage, and she would not brook any opposition. Jane quietly left the room, and Mrs Bennet turned her thoughts to worry for her second eldest daughter. Tomorrow Elizabeth and Darcy would host their first social event as a married couple. A picnic on Oakham Mount. Mrs Bennet hoped that the magical events that had been spoken of on Oakham mount would happen for her daughters, but she would take the picnic happening quietly without further ado. In the meantime, she would talk to her husband and make sure that this play would never see the light of day again in her home.

  Seven Swans a swimming

  31st December

  There was an air of excitement as the carriages converged on Longbourn to group together for the picnic on Oakham Mount. The Darcys were to be today’s hosts. In gratitude for all that Mrs Bennet had done in arranging their wedding, they had provided all the food and drink for the considerable size party that was gathering together. Darcy felt particularly responsible since in an effort to help, his servants had helped ruin Mrs Bennet’s fine wedding breakfast. None would be left behind, and all would relax, her mother especially would be given the chance to relax and be a guest rather than the hostess as she had been the whole of this holiday time. Nothing would be more important to Elizabeth this day, or so she thought. The day was crisp but dry, all wondered if it would snow again soon, but so far, all that there was only a beautiful clear blue sky and a slight breeze. Every carriage had been supplied with extra blankets and muffs.

  Elizabeth watched as each carriage filled with families or friends and then headed out from Longbourn’s drive. They created the illusion of a long worm making its way through the lanes of Hertfordshire. They had to take a longer route to reach the famous beauty spot, and then they would pause at the bottom. From there they would walk the short way to the top of the mount. Finally, the last carriage to leave was the Darcy’s carriage. Elizabeth leaned into her husband’s side. Their marriage only a few days ago had been marked by disaster, and Elizabeth worried that it was a portent of things to come. Maybe Lady Catherine had been right that she should not have married Darcy. She glanced up into her husband’s face and all doubt disappeared. His total devotion to her was not only written on his face but was marked by his every movement and gentle embrace. Today Elizabeth would prove to all that their marriage was meant to be.

  The Darcy’s carriage joined the others at the bottom of Oakham Mount. The servants had already set up the picnic at the top of the hill while the group slowly made their way up on foot. Approximately halfway up the hill an eerie mist swirled around the group, and they found themselves taking many wrong turns. It made no sense the path up to the top of the hill was straight and short, yet in the mist it felt as though they were walking in circles for a long time. Eventually the mist cleared, the sun shone on a glittering lake, but only seven couples of the group were standing looking at the lake. On that lake, seven pure white swans swam. Each person present heard the refrain, though it appeared that there was nobody nearby:

  ’Seven swans and seven brides,

  Seven bridegrooms and seven brooms,

  Keep them close, keep them safe,

  Or risk your children being waifs.

  If by chance all is lost,

  Stop not to count the cost,

  Blessed you are by our refrain,

  Never more us to see again

  Safe and sound all couples blessed,

  Safe and sound now you rest.

  Safe you’ll wake on Oakham Mount,

  Seek not again our sacred fount.

  The song faded and each couple felt sleepy. A soft voice whispered into the mist that had begun swirling again, “Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy, blessed you are and grace you have found. The Queen of the Swans bids you to remember this day. Your quiet grace has brought all here today. Go now in the knowledge that all will be well, and you will have a wonderful marriage.” Elizabeth would have thanked her, but she felt too sleepy to do anything but rest on her husband’s arm.

  The voice again spoke “Thomas and Mary Bertram. Your efforts to change have been noted, go now and know that you will bless the world. Your names will be known far and wide. Your children and grandchildren will speak of the good deeds that you have done. Forget the past and look to the future. Know that you have been blessed.” Mary nodded her head but her wide-eyed stare told of her surprise.

  “Colonel and Mrs Forster. You have been blessed with long life. Your children will know the blessings of a happy home and being loved.” The voice continued. “George and Emma Knightley. The service that you have rendered to Emma’s father has won grace in our eyes. Your children will know and honour the love that you share. When you return, forget the harsh words that he spoke on your wedding day. Fear has long ruled his heart. He too will experience the joy that comes from your blessing, though he will not understand from where it comes.”

  The voice paused. The seven couples looked at each other. Why was the voice pausing? Could it be that only some of the couples were blessed? Yet why did the song say all seven were so if three would not receive a blessing? After a few minutes the voice continued “Edmund and Catherine Bertram” the tinge of menace in the voice was unmistakable. Something was not quite right, “it is through the grace of your sisters Elizabeth and Mary that you receive a blessing this day. The grace of the Swans is not to be taken lightly. Your marriage is not secure, and you will struggle. We have seen the truth of Edmund Bertram and Fanny Price. Edmund, the fate of Fanny Price rests in your hands. She and Catherine must know the truth before it is too late. She must be taken to a doctor. Your role in her disgrace would normally bar you from receiving the Swans’ blessing. Be careful that we do not regret our decision to bless you, for our vengeance will be swift and harsh.” The shock on Catherine’s face was immense. What had her husband done and what was he doing that such a threat would be uttered?

  “William and Anne Collins. Your false dealings and your manipulations have earned the wrath of our queen. She finds your deceit abhorrent. Yet none have been hurt and the good that you do in your parsonage has also been seen. Therefore, a small blessing has been bestowed on you, and should you continue in righteousness and in truth then you have nothing to fear. Your children will know love and joy. We have healed you Anne, that no more should you suffer ill health. You will have a long and fruitful life. Lead it in the joy of helping others and there will be none that can touch your marriage.”

  There was a collective sigh that went up in the group. All would be well; they were sure of it. Only one couple now remained, and they all lay on the ground as sleep over came them. “George and Georgiana Wickham. The deceit and malice that you have perpetrated on others will come to haunt you. You will be blessed with children but mark my words, they will only know a happy home when you both repent what you have done. Strife will be the order of your marriage. Yours will not be a happy home. If you heed my words and learn to live in truth with gentleness and kindness, living only for others then shall you find that the strife shall subside. Now sleep my children one and al
l for you have been blessed and you have been missed.” As sleep overcame them all the voice faded away.

  “Lizzy! LIZZY” Mrs Bennet screamed. Elizabeth groaned, but sleep refused to leave her eyes. Darcy’s arms tightened around her shoulders as her mother’s screams became more and more hysterical. Mrs Bennet waved those awful smelling salts under Elizabeth’s nose, she batted them away and snuggled closer into Darcy’s shoulder. In her panic, Mrs Bennet forgot that her daughter was married “Elizabeth Bennet if you do not waken up this moment, I will be forced to do something drastic.”

  “Mother, I am fine, just let me sleep” Elizabeth mumbled.

  “I will not let you sleep! I have been worried sick! First you and your friends disappear without a trace, and then when you turn up, you and your husband just lay down and sleep for hours! I will have an explanation.” Elizabeth groaned but opened her eyes but slowly. Eventually she gave her mother the explanation, telling her about the Swans and the blessings and warnings. Mrs Bennet was taken aback. The Swans were legend, and nobody had seen them in many decades. Those who claimed to have done so, had all come back with such fantastical stories that it was clear that none of them had seen them. Now three of her daughters were claiming to have seen the Swans of legend?! Jealousy raged in Mrs Bennet’s breast. It was rumoured that the Swans only blessed the pure of heart. When she and her husband had been married, they came to Oakham Mount for their wedding breakfast, there had been seven girls who had recently married but none of them saw the Swans. Mrs Bennet had stopped believing that the old legend could be even remotely true. Elizabeth’s tale of the Swans seemed too fantastic to be true, even to her own ears.