by Zoë Burton
Lady Matlock hesitated just a moment before nodding her agreement. “As you wish. Shall I see you at dinner this evening?”
“Yes, I will be there. Thank you, Audra.”
Thus dismissed, Lady Matlock swept from the study and off to her private sitting room to review all the families she knew with daughters and nieces.
~~~***~~~
After his wife had left the room, Lord Matlock gathered himself together and called for the butler.
“You called, sir.”
“Yes, call for my carriage. I have a meeting at White’s I must get to.”
Bowing, Simms left to do as he was bid.
An hour later, Lord Matlock entered his club. Searching the rooms, he found his colleague in the House of Lords, Lord Winthrop, at a table in the far corner. He approached, bowing to his friend as the gentleman rose from his meal.
“Good to see you, Matlock! Always punctual, you are; it is greatly appreciated.” Robert Cook, Earl of Winthrop, was the opposite of Lord Matlock in many ways, not the least of which was his bald honesty. If an opinion was in his head, it was likely to come out of his mouth. Matlock, on the other hand, tended to keep his opinions to himself unless provoked.
“Winthrop,” Matlock greeted him. “I apologize if I am too early.” He gestured to the plate sitting between them. “I would not like for my meal to be interrupted.”
“Nonsense. You are not too early, I was actually later arriving here than I intended. Do you mind if I finish my meal while we chat?”
“Not at all.”
“Very well,” Winthrop began as he dug into his food once again. “Tell me about this legislation you want me to support.”
A quarter hour later, his meal finished and Lord Matlock’s explanations and arguments exhausted, Winthrop leaned back in his chair and eyed his friend speculatively. There was certainly nothing wrong with the legislation Matlock was forwarding. It did not fall in clear party lines, but he suspected that with his own support, it would pass. However, Winthrop was a shrewd man and understood well how things worked in their society. He needed something, and from what he knew of Matlock’s family, he could very well get it from them in exchange for his vote.
“I have noticed your nephew out and about more this season than previously.”
Lord Matlock was not at all confused by the sudden change of topic, for he was also a veteran of the game, and well-versed in it. “Indeed, he has. He has been looking for a wife.”
“And none have caught his eye?”
“None as of yet. As a matter of fact, he and I talked about it this morning. He has tired of attending the unending rounds of soirees, and has asked me to arrange something for him.”
“I see.” Winthrop paused a moment as he considered the situation at home. “I have a proposal for you, Matlock, one that will guarantee my vote for your legislation.”
~~~***~~~
Hours later, Lord Winthrop entered his wife’s dressing room as her maid was putting the finishing touches on her hair. They were going out this evening to the home of a friend.
“You look lovely, my dear,” he spoke to her as he seated himself in a comfortable chair to wait.
“Thank you, Robert.” Rebecca Cook smiled at her husband. He really was the sweetest gentleman she had ever known. She had thought so five and twenty years before upon their first introduction, when he was still a Viscount, and he had given her no reason to change that opinion in the years since.
“I speak only the truth, my love.” He paused, then continued. “I believe I have found a solution to Elizabeth’s problem.”
“You have?”
“I believe so. You remember, of course, that I was to meet with Matlock today at the club?” He waited for his wife’s nod. “I recalled while I listened to him talk that his nephew, Darcy, was on the hunt for a wife this season, so I asked him about it. Turns out the young man has given up the chase and has asked Matlock to arrange a marriage for him.”
“You think to offer him our girl?”
“I do, and I did. He wanted to know details about her, of course, and insists on meeting her before he puts forth the idea to Darcy, but he wants my vote on his bill. I could almost see the wheels in his brain turning.”
“Really? Did he seem eager?” When her husband nodded, she asked, “Did he give a reason for his desire to meet her ahead of time?”
“From what I have heard of Darcy, he probably wants a wife with a brain, which of course, our goddaughter has.”
“And what of the small dowry?”
“I had thought to add to it, sweeten the pot as it were. There is no earthly reason Elizabeth should have to suffer a lack of any kind simply because her mother dislikes her and her father is indolent.”
“I like that idea, Robert! Now, how do we get Elizabeth to agree? She has always wanted to marry for love.”
“I think, after our talk the other day, that she will be amenable to marry with only compatibility. And, if we can get them married without Darcy meeting her mother, all the better. I will warn him, though,” he added with his hand in the air when his Rebecca began to protest. “It would be dishonest not to. If Darcy is as honorable as his father was, he may even wish to meet them.”
“What shall we do in that case?”
“I will explain the situation fully and offer to allow him to avoid it. Bennet gave me guardianship; technically, that makes it my responsibility in any case.” Lord Winthrop shrugged. “He will be committed at that point, regardless.”
“True, dear husband.” She rose and held out her hands to him. “I leave it in your very capable hands. Shall we go, then?”
Winthrop, having risen himself, leaned down to softly kiss her lips before leading her from the room.
Chapter 2
Elizabeth Bennet, known to her family and closest friends as Lizzy, waited in the drawing room of her godfather’s house for him and his wife. She had moved to London to live with them a month ago and had settled into her new routine with ease. Lord and Lady Winthrop were lovely people, in her opinion, amiable, friendly, and relaxed, and the three of them got on very well. The only people she got on better with were her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and her sister, Mary. Contemplating her current situation brought to mind memories of what brought her here in the first place.
Elizabeth was the second of five girls born to the Bennets of Longbourn, in Hertfordshire. Jane, who was two and twenty, was the oldest and most beautiful. Twenty-year-old Elizabeth was considered by her mother to be nothing but trouble, and by her father to be the most intelligent of his offspring, though still, in his opinion, silly. Mary was next at eight and ten. She was studious, reading sermons and making extracts. Largely ignored, Mary dressed somberly and shared what she learned from her studies indiscriminately, not taking the time to ponder either the appropriateness or the effectiveness of her sermonizing. Kitty was a year younger than Mary and fully embodied her father’s opinion that his children were silly. She followed the youngest sister, Lydia, with abandon, even though she was older. At fifteen, Lydia, considered by her mother to be both her second most beautiful daughter and her liveliest, was wild and unabashed. She did not appear to have a thought in her head beyond fashion and gentlemen, particularly red-coated officers of the militia. Neither Lydia nor Kitty cared for education. They could read enough and do sums enough to manage a household, but had no other accomplishments beyond remaking gowns and bonnets.
Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, Thomas and Fanny, were the master and mistress of Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet was an indulgent parent with all the girls except Mary and Elizabeth. Being a lady of uncertain temperament and mean understanding, she was perplexed by their desire to learn and their total lack of interest in the arts that she considered vital to catching a husband. This confusion led her to be far more harsh with those two particular daughters than she should be.
Mr. Bennet was sardonic, sarcastic, and lazy. As the only son of his own parents, he had been pampered and spoiled. Never having had
to lift a finger to earn any reward, he developed at a young age a sense of entitlement and the idea that he should not have to be responsible for anything in life, an idea he carried into adulthood. When he inherited his estate well over twenty years previously, he began the practice of deferring most decisions to his steward, a practice that he maintained throughout his tenure as master. Beyond balancing the accounts, he had little involvement with the running of the place.
These same habits were, as soon as Fanny Gardiner became Fanny Bennet, applied to his life as a husband and father, as well. Even though he knew that his wife was uneducated and silly, he did not take the trouble to check her. He left household matters to her care, including the raising of his children, since they were all girls and of no use in breaking the entailment. What do I care, he often thought in regards to his daughters and their country manners, they shall find stupid husbands willing to deal with their poor manners and I shall be well rid of them. ‘Tis not as though any of them will inherit. And so, both family and estate languished for lack of care from the patriarch.
Had he a son, it was often believed by all who knew him, Mr. Bennet may have roused himself a little more. However, the property was entailed on heirs male, and upon his demise would devolve to someone not of the Bennet line. His heir presumptive was a Mr. Collins, a distant cousin three or four times removed. Mr. Bennet himself had never met the man. His father and that of the heir had long ago had a falling out. The root of the problem had long been forgotten, but the antagonism remained, and the two families remained estranged. Being in possession of such a personality as he had, Mr. Bennet cared not about the entire situation.
Mrs. Bennet, on the other hand, cared a great deal, for, upon the death of her husband, she would lose her home and be thrown into the hedgerows to starve. She often railed against the entail, for she did not understand it and no amount of explanation from her husband or three eldest daughters helped her to do so. Hers was a life of uncertainty, for she was sure Mr. Bennet would drop dead any day, and fear for the future. Her goal from the time Jane was old enough to walk was to marry her daughters off as soon as possible. She was not overly concerned with the wealth of the suitor, though of course, richer was far better than poorer.
These thoughts of her mother led Elizabeth, as she sat in the Winthrops’ drawing room, around to recalling the exact reasons she was now a resident of London and not Longbourn.
Several months ago, a fine looking gentleman and a large party of his friends had let a local estate called Netherfield. This, as one would have expected, excited Mrs. Bennet beyond what she was capable of containing. Her effusions filled Longbourn for days after hearing the news.
“I am certain that at least one of my girls will make a match with one of the visitors. Not Lizzy or Mary, of course, for they are far too unattractive,” she would say to anyone within earshot, “but surely Jane will, and Lydia might, as well.”
Sure enough, one of the gentlemen, a Mr. Thaddueus Cox, did take a liking to the eldest Bennet daughter, to her mother’s delight. Unfortunately for both Mr. Cox and Mrs. Bennet, Jane was terrified of him, for he was far too forward and did not seem to understand the word ‘no.’ Though they were not very good friends and tended to keep their business to themselves, she shared her feelings with her next sister, knowing that Elizabeth was protective of her family.
As expected, Elizabeth was furious on her behalf. Added fuel to her anger existed in the fact that another of the party had made inappropriate remarks to Elizabeth herself, after hearing her mother denigrate her by implying she was free with her favors. The resulting confrontation was something witnesses would never forget. Jane’s admirer and his friends closed up Netherfield the next day, leaving for town without a farewell to the neighborhood.
Despite Elizabeth’s—and her sister’s—pleasure in turning the dull-witted Mr. Cox’s attention away from Jane, Mrs. Bennet was far less than pleased. Not being willing to acknowledge that her beloved eldest daughter could have anything to do with his abandonment, Elizabeth’s mother unleashed the full force of her formidable tongue on her second daughter. For days that turned into weeks, Mrs. Bennet lashed out at Elizabeth, making her life a tense and miserable one.
“Just bide your time,” Mr. Bennet advised, “and let your mother vent her spleen. Her vitriol will run its course soon enough and all will be well again.”
Unfortunately, his prediction was wrong. The longer her least favorite daughter remained serene in the face of her ire, the more angry Mrs. Bennet became. Soon, words were not enough to express her displeasure, and she began to pinch Elizabeth whenever she came within arm’s length. Before long, despite her best efforts to stay out of her mother’s way, Elizabeth was covered in bruises.
It was at this point that Mr. Bennet took action. Fearing that his wife’s behavior would continue to deteriorate and put their daughter at further risk, he wrote to Elizabeth’s godfather and his oldest friend, requesting that Lord Winthrop and his wife take her in.
Mr. Bennet had met Lord Winthrop, then Viscount Sutton, at Cambridge, where they had roomed together. Though they were of different social stations, they quickly found common ground in their choices of reading material and extracurricular activities, becoming almost inseparable. They had remained close after graduation, even standing up with each other at their respective weddings. It was only natural that Bennet should ask Winthrop to stand godfather to one of his daughters; had his friend fathered a daughter, he would have done the same. Eventually, with both married and Winthrop inheriting his father’s title, their friendship became one that involved fewer visits and more letters, though it remained strong. Winthrop took as active a role in Elizabeth’s life as he could, offering advice to her father and hosting her now and again as she grew, exposing her to cultural events and allowing her to share the masters that taught his sons. So, when Bennet needed to remove that daughter to a healthier environment, it only made sense to send her to her godfather, who had better connections and more resources than her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner did.
Within days of Bennet’s request, Elizabeth had been removed from Longbourn and installed at Winthrop House in London. Before she left, her father took her aside and explained his reasoning with uncharacteristic softness.
“I know that you have tried to avoid your mother, my Lizzy, but I have watched and heard what she has been doing. Sally has told me of the bruises on your arms and body.” He held his hand up as Elizabeth began to protest. “She is in my employ, and as I specifically asked the question, she had no choice but to reply.” Mr. Bennet watched sadly as his favorite daughter sighed, then lowered her eyes to her hands resting in her lap and nodded. “It grieves me to send you away, you know that?”
“Yes, Papa.” Elizabeth’s response was quiet, barely more than a whisper.
“I do it for your own good. Your godfather will take very good care of you. I have given him control of you while you are gone, including the right to approve any courtship or marriage that you might desire. You will be attending all manner of amusements in the highest circles. Your opportunities for finding a husband are much higher there than here. Not just that, of course. You may want to improve your mind by visiting the museums, and attending salons. Please,” he leaned over to hold her hands, “please take advantage of this time. Do not look upon it as an evil, but as a blessing.”
Elizabeth giggled. “Papa. You are beginning to sound like Mary!” She sighed, then squeezed his hands, “Very well then, I shall look upon it as a grand adventure and take advantage of what is offered to me. I shall miss you, though, and my sisters. Please say you will write to me.”
“Indeed I will, my child, though I cannot promise to be a faithful correspondent. I will endeavor, though, to at least add a line or two to one of the letters your sisters write.” A thought occurred to him. “I believe that I will forbid your mother from writing to you. There is no reason that I can see for allowing her abuse to follow you away from here.”
“
Hopefully, with me gone, she will calm.”
“Perhaps.” He smiled. Letting go of her hands, he rose. “Come now, your godfather should be arriving soon to pick you up. Why do you not go and make sure you have packed everything? And Lizzy,” he paused as she stopped at the door and turned back to him. “Allow your sisters to have whatever they beg of yours to give them. I am giving Winthrop a sum to use for a new wardrobe for you.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you, Papa.” She slipped silently out the door and upstairs.
And now, here she sat, weeks later, waiting to attend another soiree with her new guardians. She enjoyed meeting new people, and looked forward to the event. It did not make up for the lack of her family, but it was wonderful to be treated so well by her godfather. Her ruminations stopped as that gentleman and his beautiful wife entered the room.
“Have you been waiting long, Elizabeth?” Lady Winthrop’s clear, gentle tones inquired.
“Not at all,” she replied with a smile. “Are we ready?”
Lord Winthrop spoke up. “Before we go, my dear, there is something I would speak to you about.”
“Oh. Well then,” Elizabeth paused as she reseated herself. “I am ready to hear anything you must say.”
Smiling at her teasing statement, he began. “You know, my dear, that one of your father’s charges to me when I brought you here was to help you find a husband; to give you a season and introduce you to gentlemen that might be worthy of you.”
Elizabeth nodded, thinking back to that conversation with her dear father on that last day. “Yes, I was just thinking about that while I was waiting for you.”
Lord Winthrop nodded, clearing his throat. “I know that you have met none so far that have struck your fancy; my Rebecca tells me so, and I know that you confide in her.” He hesitated a moment, not certain of how to proceed but finally deciding to simply say what needed to be said. “I have received a letter from your father. It seems that not only is your mother still angry with you, her feelings have grown stronger since you left. Your father’s cousin, the one who will inherit, has written to Bennet and your mother now hopes to marry you off to him, since he is apparently single. Your father does not wish for this to happen and begs me again to help you find a spouse. To that end, I have a colleague in the House of Lords who is seeking a wife for his nephew. The peer’s name is Lord Matlock, and his nephew is Mr. Darcy. What was his first name, Love?” He asked as he turned to his wife.