You have my blessing for whatever you choose to say, as I feel certain you will be our ally in this.
Gratefully,
F. Darcy
Chapter 6
The Taming of the Flibbertigibbet
“‘I can see he’s not in your good books,’ said the messenger.
‘No, and if he were, I would burn my library.’”
William Shakespeare
Much Ado about Nothing
Thomas Bennet opened the door to his library and called for his wife. After waiting a few moments, he called for Mrs. Hill, who came to him immediately.
“Mr. Bennet, sir?”
“Ah, Hill. Where is Mrs. Bennet?”
“In her sitting room above stairs, taking some tea and making lists of things, sir.”
“So she should have heard me when I called just now?”
“I should think so, sir. I heard you from the kitchen.”
“Has she been taken deaf, do you think?”
Mrs. Hill smirked and shook her head. “Would you like me to fetch her, sir?”
“No, Hill. It is time the insubordination in this house was dealt with as it should have been long ago.” Mr. Bennet took the stairs as briskly as Mrs. Hill had ever seen him, and he entered the open door of his wife’s sitting room.
“Mrs. Bennet! Did you not hear my call?”
She looked up with surprise. Her husband usually sent a servant for her, or forgot what he wanted if she ignored him. It was much more exhilarating to make lists of wedding details than to attend to whatever petty issues Mr. Bennet might raise.
“Mr. Bennet! Is there some emergency? Are Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley ill?” This was her chief concern as the wedding neared, that an errant infectious disease might carry off either groom.
Mr. Bennet closed the door to his wife’s sitting room, and took a seat facing her. “Mrs. Bennet, let me first say that, when your husband calls you, he expects a response. I do not think, after nearly twenty-five years of marriage, that expecting courtesy is too much to ask. Do I make myself clear?”
“Oh, Mr. Bennet, if you have come in here to argue with me, I pray you leave at once.”
“I am here, Mrs. Bennet, because you would not come to me, and we have a matter of immense and immediate importance, which we must discuss.”
Grumbling under her breath, Mrs. Bennet made a great show of setting aside her lap desk and turning her attention to her husband.
“It has come to my attention, madam, that you have been relating stories of married life to Lizzy and Jane, which our daughters find most unsettling, and these, by extension, reflect upon me in a poor light.”
“Nonsense. Of what can you be speaking?”
“How do you know it is nonsense if you claim not to know the topic? Oh, never mind… My point is, Mrs. Bennet, you have told the girls disturbing stories about marital relations and what they may expect, and it has frightened them. I want you to correct what you have said and cease discussing the topic with them if you cannot or will not be truthful.”
“And may I ask how you came by this knowledge? A father should not know of this. My daughters would never discuss such a thing with their father. It is a mother’s place to prepare daughters for what may happen in the marriage bed.”
“Both of our daughters have complained to their intended spouses.” Mr. Bennet was not above stretching the truth to carry his point. “They have been vague as to details, but so completely forthright about their attendant fears as to make what was told to them completely apparent.”
“Mr. Bennet! I shall not be criticised on this subject. The girls have no idea what to expect on their wedding night, and I believe it prudent that they be made to expect the worst. I consider their behaviour to their intendeds to be highly improper, implying any of what should be talked of only amongst women, and I shall scold them, sir. Make no mistake.”
“Fanny, you will do no such thing.”
Voices were raised. From their bedroom, Elizabeth and Jane could hear the tone but not the content. They looked at each other with open astonishment.
“Mr. Bennet, on this point I shall stand my ground. It is a mother’s duty to protect daughters from false hopes of the marriage bed.”
“Have you no consideration for their future husbands, and therefore madam, no respect for what they may infer our relationship has been? Have I been a brute to you? Have I ever made unacceptable demands upon your person? If you speak of horrors you yourself have not experienced, the girls will infer you have experienced them, and at my hands!”
“Mr. Bennet, that is ridiculous! The girls do not think of you and me in such a way.”
“No indeed, I believe they did not until you felt you needed to see that they enter the married state expecting the worst, as you say.”
“And so they should!”
“Mrs. Bennet! You will speak of this subject to Lizzy and Jane no more, except to say you have no reason to believe either Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley are brutish, unkind, or perverted in any way. They are gentlemen and will be kind at the very least. You do no one any good service by painting all men with the same brush. You will stop this.”
“No, sir, I certainly shall not. This is not your concern, Mr. Bennet—not your concern at all!”
“Fanny, I shall lock you in this room until the wedding if you leave me no other choice. No details, no lace, no shopping, no hectoring Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst—none of it.”
“Oh, Mr. Bennet! You cannot mean it!”
“Do not try my patience further, madam. You will apologise to Lizzy and Jane and amend the untruths you have foisted upon them, or I shall have you kept separate from them until they are wed. I have never been unkind to you in our marriage bed, and I shall not have you implying to anyone that I have. You have no idea the harm you have done, and I shall see it does not continue. The choice is yours, Mrs. Bennet.” He stood and began pacing in what little space was available in front of his wife.
“This is most improper, Mr. Bennet—most indelicate. Fathers of daughters must not concern themselves with such things. This was Lizzy, was it not? She’s gone telling tales, has she? Only Lizzy would ever think to seek counsel in such a shameful way.”
“Lizzy and Jane should not approach their wedding in a spirit of fear and misapprehension; you and your gossiping sister have overstepped yourselves. You give Lizzy and Jane the advice better used on Lydia, who is now married to one of the vilest seducers we are ever likely to meet, no thanks to ourselves…”
“Oh, Mr. Bennet! Lower your voice…”
“No, Fanny. I shall not be moved. You have a decision to make. Remain in your room until the wedding, or amend your advice to Lizzy and Jane. And no more social engagements with Mrs. Phillips. She is no longer fit for civil society—drunk or sober!”
Husband and wife stared at each other with fury. For several long moments, neither of them moved nor blinked. It was finally the weaker-natured Mrs. Bennet who relented. “I am appalled, sir, that you would interfere with a mother’s care of her daughters in this manner, but since you are determined upon it, I shall speak to the girls and amend what I have said. And you must allow that, although I can certainly cease inviting my own sister to meals and gatherings here, I cannot control what others may do and who may wish to invite her in our larger society.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bennet. I wish to be informed of all invitations coming to this house between now and the wedding. Lizzy and Jane will not be accepting invitations to small parties where their aunt is in attendance. In large parties, I am confident they can and will avoid her themselves, and will have Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy to defend them.
“That is all for now, Mrs. Bennet.” He dismissed her, even though he was in her room. Mr. Bennet paused, bowed briefly, turned and slammed her door behind him. The start of a new tirade, delivered in soliloquy, was heard over his shoulder.
“Well I never…” Mrs. Bennet began, ranting to no one. She rose from her favourite rocking chair and
sat at her desk. She was angry over the scene just endured and blamed Elizabeth. The only thing to be done was to—as far as propriety would allow—disavow herself of her second eldest daughter and her wedding plans, even if she was marrying a man with ten thousand a year. She would write to her brother’s wife, who seemed to understand Elizabeth as she herself could not, and beg assistance. Mrs. Bennet did not like writing letters other than extending social invitations and responding to them, but in this case she wrote with alacrity. As silly and blathering as Mrs. Bennet was in her manner of speech, in her habits of writing, she tended to be concise even when prevaricating.
15 October 1812
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
Dear Sister,
The plans for Lizzy and Jane’s wedding are quite over-taking me, and I find I must write to request a favour, which, if each daughter were having a separate ceremony, I would not need to ask. May I prevail upon you to assist with Lizzy’s wardrobe for the event? Mr. Bennet has set a budget of £75 for the trousseau. While I wish it were much more, I trust you to help Lizzy with her decisions as she may not understand what she needs or purchase enough. Perhaps you may find fabric for her gown in town, such as may be used by the local dressmakers, and when you arrive later in the week, other items may be ordered.
It is inconvenient for me to be shopping for both Lizzy and Jane at the same time. I cannot keep all of the details separated properly. Please say you will consent to providing such assistance, and think of it as practice for when your own dear Alyse and Sophie plan their nuptials.
Fondly and gratefully,
F. Bennet
Simultaneously, in the Longbourn library, the following letter was being composed.
15 October 1812
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
Dear Sister,
I shall safely wager you will find, in the next hours and days, your correspondence inundated with missives from Hertfordshire. Indeed, His Majesty’s Postal Service may have need of a new man just to handle the Gardiner volume. Yet, I find I must now add to the man’s burden.
You will certainly be receiving a letter from Lizzy, and likely one from Mr. Darcy if I have become any judge of the man’s character. They write about a situation arising in part from the officious and ill-natured attentions of my wife and her sister, though I would not doubt every married woman of Lizzy and Jane’s acquaintance had a hand in causing the chaos and misapprehension now lodged in their minds.
You may now well imagine where my thoughts tend. Lizzy and Jane have both, usually together, received the foulest warnings and slanders of what to expect of married life. They have spoken, or at least Lizzy has, to their betrotheds of the resultant fears that have developed, and as you may well apprehend, both men have expressed their alarm to me.
I have proved no help in the matter, as it must be further confessed that two books on the subject, which I had quite forgotten I owned—past tense as they are now both ashes—have been consulted by the girls under cloak of night.
I have prevailed upon Mrs. Bennet to retract what she has said of the matter, and at the behest of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, we at Longbourn will endeavour to separate Lizzy and Jane from their Aunt Phillips when necessary, and to avoid her society between now and the wedding.
Now you see what pandemonium awaits you and Edward upon your arrival. You and I have ever been Lizzy’s allies against the silliest elements of the Bennet household, and it will be, more than ever, thus from now until the wedding day. I am certain her mother will blame her for the current situation, when in truth, if Mrs. Bennet at least—there is no accounting for her sister—had been truthful and sensible with the girls about their expectations of living with a gentleman, this entire debacle could have been greatly diminished, if not avoided entirely.
This letter comes to you as something of a warning. I know Lizzy will apply to you for the comfort and honesty she will find in short supply from her mother. The men who love her best, and Jane and her Bingley, too, look to you for help and guidance.
Gratefully,
T. Bennet
Mr. Bennet carefully folded and sealed the letter, and stepped to the hall to call for Mrs. Hill. As it happened, she was bustling past him to answer the front door. The two gentlemen from Netherfield had arrived. Mrs. Hill took the letter and noted the address with wonder.
Mr. Bennet slipped into the drawing room to receive the betrotheds of his two eldest daughters, but they only had time to nod to each other in complete understanding before Mrs. Bennet entered, her haughty countenance looking as if her behaviour had never been censured in the whole of her life. Her actions were, however, somewhat changed for the better, and she showed an unusual deference for her husband that grew more pronounced once her two eldest daughters entered the room. This was much remarked upon by the gentlemen after their departure later that evening, and also by Jane and Elizabeth. Even Mr. Bennet told his wife he was proud of her before lodging himself in his own bedchamber for the night.
Chapter 7
Aunt Gardiner Saves the Day
“Pause awhile, And let my counsel sway you.”
William Shakespeare
Much Ado about Nothing
Mrs. Madeleine Gardiner was surprised to receive an express from Mr. Darcy. It arrived while the children were enjoying an outing in the park with their nursemaid; therefore, she had the opportunity to address its contents immediately. The topic—Elizabeth’s newly awakened curiosity about the particulars of marital relations—was disturbing to be sure, but Mrs. Gardiner also regarded Darcy’s unrest with amusement. Men! Darcy’s letter did not require a response, so she sat in wait for Elizabeth’s, and pondered whether to share this unlooked-for development with her husband.
When Elizabeth’s letter appeared a day later, accompanied by letters from both her parents, Mrs. Gardiner was alarmed until all the missives had been read, then she found herself highly diverted indeed. Before responding to any, she gathered them all and proceeded to her husband’s study.
“What in the world is happening in Hertfordshire, my dear?” Mr. Gardiner asked with a laugh after reading them.
His wife smiled. “I wanted you to be apprised of the circumstances surrounding our arrival on Saturday. Who knows what questions may be directed at you, by the gentlemen.”
“At me! Oh no, the men do not need help. I think you are the designated font of marital wisdom. If you can keep me out of it, I should be quite grateful.”
“You seem to have the reputation of keeping a sensible wife happy. You will just have to put up with it.”
“How little they know!” Mr. Gardiner was laughing as his wife deposited herself in his lap.
He patted his wife’s newly noticeable belly. They were content with the symmetry of their family—two girls followed by two boys— and had not looked for further blessings. After four conceptions and four unremarkable deliveries, Mrs. Gardiner thought she knew the counting of her months forward and backward; her tendency to fertility was greater midway between one course and the next. However, love had been in the air—and between the sheets— during their short stay at Lambton, and Mrs. Gardiner had simply lost track of time. To have been travelling so amiably out of their normal routine, and to have met the infamous Mr. Darcy and found him to be a charming and obliging man who appeared to be in love with their favourite niece, had been…exhilarating.
“Any quickening yet, Maddy?”
“Not yet, but it is just about time. I still think it would be a lark to name this child Lambton…”
“Not Pemberley?”
“I fear that would embarrass our soon-to-be nephew too greatly. Lambton would be bad enough!” They laughed.
“Well, I am just sorry you must travel during this time. I know you will be more easy in a rollicking carriage after another few weeks.”
“Yes, even though we are to spend Christmas at Pemberley—my, how well that sounds—and the journey is much farther, I look forward to it a great deal more than the few h
ours it will take to get to Longbourn. And now to act the part of mother-of-the-bride to poor Lizzy! The letter from Fanny concerns me greatly.”
“Then you had better answer it now. And Lizzy’s too. Feel free to send your responses by express, my dearest, I think the situation warrants it. I know my sister’s nerves.”
Mrs. Gardiner grew contemplative. “Edward…do you suppose we might not be aware of showing such marked partiality for certain of our children as Thomas and Fanny do? I cannot think it right, and would be offended to find I was behaving in such a manner.”
“I pray neither of us do, my dear. But I know to whom to apply for an answer. Our children love their cousin Jane. She would tell us, should we ask, whether any of them have remarked on any consistent preference shown by ourselves. As you say, we may be unaware.”
Mrs. Gardiner nodded. “If the topic arises during our visit, I shall ask Jane. I would be mortified to know I was behaving like Fanny.”
“I know you would. Now off with you; you have letters to write, and I must finish reading this contract from our shipping company before asking your opinion of it.”
Mr. Gardiner helped Mrs. Gardiner to her feet, and she kissed his balding forehead before withdrawing to her escritoire in the drawing room, where she produced the following two letters.
17 November 1812
Gracechurch Street, London
My Dear Sister,
Please rest assured I am prepared to take on whatever tasks you may wish to assign me to prepare Elizabeth for her wedding. How well I can imagine the confusion a double wedding might bring about. I recently saw some lovely fabric, and with your permission and subsequent approval, I plan to purchase a length of it and present it to Lizzy as a gift. If you do not like it, she may use it for something other than her wedding ensemble, but I believe you will approve. It is a sheer type of mesh of a unique colour called candlelight. The edge of the fabric has a wide band of embroidered leaf outlines in various shades of green, and I think this would do very well as a petticoat border under a solid-colour gown, or as the outer layer of a multiple-layered skirt. I shall secure it tomorrow morning, and you may judge for yourself when I arrive. If I can purchase enough, it would also be suitable as veiling. It put me in mind of Lizzy the moment I saw it.
Longbourn to London Page 6