The
Cumberland
Plateau
A Pride and Prejudice Modern Sequel
Copyright 2009 by M. K. Baxley
Smashwords Edition
M. K. Baxley
The Prince
Men have less hesitation about offending one who makes himself loved than one who makes himself feared, for love is held together by a chain of obligation which, because men are sadly wicked, is broken at every opportunity to serve self-interest, but fear is maintained by a dread of punishment which never abandons you.
—Niccolò Machiavelli 1513
Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice continues with this modern day sequel. Set in the mountains of Tennessee, The Cumberland Plateau is a story of innocence and purity, reckless desire and abandonment, love and betrayal, faith and hope, and family heritage and pride. It is a story of strong men and the women who loved them as they struggle to become the men they were born to be.
Derbyshire, England
The Cumberland Plateau is a work of fiction. Although some of the characters are inspired from historical records, they are used fictitiously. All other characters are either from the author’s imagination, or from Jane Austen’s novel, Pride and Prejudice.
No part of this book may be reproduced without prior permission. If you wish to contact me, please do so at [email protected]
ISBN-10: 1440458561
EAN-13: 9781440458569
© Copyright March 9, 2007 by Mary K. Baxley
All rights are reserved.
First Edition: July 2009
Cover photographs courtesy of Cokie Lewis of the United States and Richard Bird of the United Kingdom.
Cover and internal design © M. K. Baxley 2009
Prologue
…we will once again be as one …
6 September 1789
Hertfordshire, England
John Bennet sat on a stone bench in the garden of his ancestral home with his father’s words still stinging his ears. …If you marry her, I cannot support you. You will be disinherited. He released a heavy breath and rose to his feet. John walked a few steps to the nearest apple tree and plucked one from a low-hanging branch. Inhaling deeply, he contemplated his options.
He shook his head and cursed as he took a bite from the apple in his hand. There were none that could satisfy both his father and himself. The thought of sending Rebecca Jane away and placing their child in the house of a stranger was unbearable, and then to discreetly marry the woman he loved off to some man of lesser means tore at his conscience.
John glanced back at the house. Since birth, his father had groomed him to be the Master of Longbourn, and that had been his desire. With an income of two to three thousand a year, his life would be set and predictable, but little had he realized that everything would change the day he had laid eyes on Rebecca Jane Alexander—the woman whose clear blue eyes had taken him captive from the first of their acquaintance.
John smiled as he recalled their first meeting. It had been an unusually warm autumn evening. He had been celebrating a prosperous harvest season with drink and fine cigars at his club in London when he and two friends had decided to visit the White House, a brothel in Soho Square for an evening of pleasure. When they entered the establishment, his eyes were immediately drawn to the fair-haired woman with the beautiful blue eyes —eyes that bore little pleasure in what she saw, and yet he felt compelled to know her. He later learned that he was to be her first customer, and since she had to release her virtue to someone, she had told him she was glad it would be to him and not to a hideous older man.
As he leaned against the tree trunk, he recalled how he had felt that night. Somehow, his pursuit of pleasure had dwindled into a desire to know the beautiful woman with the forlorn eyes. They had talked into the early morning hours, and when the dawn came, he was loath to leave her. Miss Alexander told him everything. She had told him of how her father had died, leaving her alone and penniless, and how she had been taken in by a family friend.
As the young ward of a country squire, she had been forced to leave when his eldest son had formed an attachment to her, a dowerless girl with no connections. She had been released to the streets of London with a mere ten shillings and had had to struggle to survive until Madam Kinsley spied her, dressed in little more than rags. It appeared no one would help her. No one cared until she had met Victoria Kinsley. The madam had been kinder than most and had invited her to live at White House, offering her protection and food and all the luxuries she could desire.
Janey, as he now called her, had been cold and hungry, and was soon to face London’s workhouse. Consequently, she had reluctantly accepted Madam Kinsley’s offer. John remembered well how she had bowed her head in shame as she told him that sometimes beauty can be a curse to a woman, especially if she were poor with no family. John recollected how he had felt upon hearing her words as she laid her head upon his shoulder and placed her hand over his heart.
He shook his head and groaned. He had never considered how a woman with no protector might be forced to live a life not of her own choosing, and he shuddered at the thought of his sisters, especially Elizabeth, so full of life, being forced into such an existence, or gentle Emily, soft and modest, or even the vivacious twins, Emma and Mary. If it were within his power to prevent it, none of his sisters would ever face that grim reality—not while he or Edward drew breath.
It was that night, as John lay there holding his Janey, that a tenderness swept over him, and he resolved that no one else but him would have her. Thus, he had made arrangements with Madam Kinsley to set her aside for his personal use. It cost him half his annual income, but she was the only woman he had ever wanted, and if he could not marry her, he would have her anyway he could. He would protect her.
Subsequently their relationship had been sealed, and his love for her deepened with each encounter. He saw her twice a week until a sennight ago, when suddenly she had become despondent, refusing to see him. Try as he might, he could not persuade her to tell him the reason for her distress. Therefore, he had been left to wonder—that is, until he had received word from her closest friend, another courtesan, Susan Quentella. Janey was with child and terrified—terrified with the choice of either terminating her confinement or facing London’s squalor.
John stared off into the expanse of his family estate. With his back against the tree, he raised the apple and took another bite. As he thought over the situation, he knew he was faced with a choice that would alter the course of his life forever. If he married Janey, his family would be disgraced. They would never be received in polite society again, and his sisters’ chances of making a good match would be ruined. His father would never forgive him. And if he did not marry her, her life and that of his child would be destroyed. With either choice he made there were heavy consequences. His only consolation was his brother, Edward, who had promised to remain by his side no matter the cost. But could he really do this to Edward? He shook his head as he tossed the half-eaten apple away. Did he really have a choice? He loved Janey—he had from their first night together, and the thought of her alone with his child was unbearable.
John pushed away from the tree and began to pace about the garden. He would marry her and risk it all, even at the peril of losing his family. Janey and his child were also his family, and as a gentleman, he could do no less than the honorable thing. And if it were necessary, they would leave—possibly to America. Several of his friends, all younger sons with little prospect for living comfortably in England, were leaving. Some had already left and returned with tales of adventure and wealth to be made in the Southern states of Virginia and South Carolina. America was a land of opportunity with the promise of a new life
. He had one other person to speak with concerning the venture, and then he would decide. The only problem with his plan was that his allowance was nearly spent. He knew neither how he would obtain the money to leave, nor what fate would await them once they arrived.
John’s introspection was interrupted by the sound of fast-approaching footsteps. He turned to catch his brother’s grim face.
“John, Father wants to see you in his study. He is quite adamant about it. You had best come. He is still rather upset, but I think I might have calmed him a bit. It will work out, Brother. It will.”
“I wish I shared your optimism,” John said.
“Come to the house,” Edward replied as he clapped his brother’s back. “I have struck a bargain with Father. I know you wish to leave, and I wish it were not so, but if you are insistent on marrying Miss Alexander, then I fear you have no choice. If that be your decision, then as a wedding present, I will give you one hundred pounds from my allowance for the voyage. I want you to have the best accommodations and a little to spare when you get there.”
John turned and gazed upon his younger brother. “You would do that? What about Fanny? You are to be married in a fortnight. Will she approve?”
“It matters not what Fanny thinks. It is my money, and she has no say. In fact, she is to know nothing of the matter.”
“I see.” John sighed as they solemnly walked. “Then I shall accept your offer.”
As they entered the house, they immediately approached Thomas Bennet’s library and study. With a knock on the door, the familiar deep voice resounded, causing John to tense once more.
“Enter.”
Both brothers quickly did as the voice commanded, taking seats across from their father’s dominating desk. Thomas Bennet poured two brandies and pushed them towards his sons.
“I suppose by now your brother has spoken with you. Is that not so?”
“It is.” John answered with a curt nod.
“Then you know that I have come to terms with your declarations as of the last few days.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, what you do not know are the terms and conditions of my decision,” Thomas Bennet said as he looked between his two sons. “Edward, John, this is what I have determined. As for you, Edward, I am not wholly pleased with your upcoming nuptials to Frances Gardiner. Her connections do not raise the family’s standing one iota. In fact, with her being from trade, they lower it. However, I have not denied you, since you appear to be a love-struck fool hell-bent on doing as you please.”
He glanced at his older son. “And John, as you know, I cannot give you my blessing. Yet, this is what I shall do. Tomorrow I will leave for London and see my solicitor. The will shall be changed. Edward will become my legal heir, and all that I have will pass to him, but given the direction I see things going, I shall have an entailment placed upon the estate. It shall only pass through the male line of this family. No female shall inherit it, and it shall not be broken apart and sold piecemeal,” Thomas said calmly as he glanced to his younger son. “Edward, it shall be up to you to provide the said heir. If not, then my cousin, Thaddeus Collins, shall inherit it.”
Then he turned his eyes towards John. “As for you, I shall give you five thousand pounds in gold. That will be all you shall ever have from me. If you carry on with your foolhardy plans, none of your sons shall have any part of Longbourn. Is that understood?” his father asked with a contrite voice.
“Perfectly.”
“Then you are unmoved in your decision?”
“I am.”
“Go then, and God bless you. If it were not for your sisters, I might have been more amenable, but you do understand what is at stake here, do you not?”
“I do.”
The old man rose from his desk and approached his sons, tears glistening in his eyes. Both sons rose to meet him. “I love you both,” he said as he reached and hugged his older son before turning to walk away.
30 September 1789
On a cold, dank morning, two brothers stood on a lonely loading dock at early dawn, waiting for the ship to board. The pitiless cry of seagulls was heard in the distance, and the pungent smell of saltwater and decaying fish permeated the air. The older brother gently wrapped a woolen shawl a little tighter over his wife’s shoulders. “Go aboard, my love. I shall join you soon. I would like a few moments of privacy with my brother.”
“Of course, I understand. I shall be waiting below. Take what time you need,” she said, with tenderness reflected in her clear blue eyes.
As Rebecca Jane left them alone on the dock, John turned to his brother. “Edward, this is perhaps the most bittersweet time of my life. I love Janey. You know that, but leaving you and the girls is much more difficult than I ever imagined. You must look after them in my stead and see that all is well with them, and look after Mother, too. She kept to her room and would not see me before I left. I know she is devastated, but assure her of my love. I will write as soon as we reach Virginia. I shall keep in touch.”
Edward Bennet stepped forward and took his brother’s proffered hand as he clapped John’s shoulder, giving him an embrace of solidarity. “I shall,” Edward said with a solemn nod. “The girls wanted to come and see you off, and you know they would have, had not Father intervened. Elizabeth will marry Mr. Simmons next month, and Mr. Amite has requested to court Emma. Emily will probably remain unmarried. She has professed a desire to serve God, and I fear she is considering converting to Catholicism and joining an order of nuns. It would be a good decision for her, as she dearly loves our Lord. She shall do well in whatever choice she makes, but Mary is another matter. God grant a stout measure of mercy to the man who marries her,” Edward said with a laugh to break the grimness of the moment.
“Aye, she is quite a rambunctious handful with a sharp tongue to match, but she is a good girl,” John returned. “Now, before I go, I must tell you that even though I shall not return, a day will come when Father is gone that I shall send a daughter or a son to you. I know not the hour nor the day or even the year, but this I know, we will once again be as one, and our families will reunite. This, my brother, I solemnly swear to you before God and heaven above. We shall be reunited.”
“And I solemnly swear to you, my brother, that I shall name my first son after you and my first daughter after Jane. As I have come to know her, I have come to love her as a sister.” Both brothers glanced to the side. All but John had boarded. Edward drew in a deep breath. “Goodbye, John. I shall be waiting. Together we shall join in cutting off the entail as soon as my son is of age, thus allowing for my widow and younger children to be provided for.”
“Yes, we shall. An entailment is a dangerous thing. Father will regret it.”
With unshed tears, the two brothers embraced before John turned and walked up the ramp to the ship and his new life that awaited him in America.
Chapter One
…he could easily imagine her bareback on a horse, wearing nothing but her hair…
June 2006
Harry Dickens sat at a table in the back of White’s Gentlemen’s Club. It was a hot, hazy summer day in London, and the smog was thick, almost stifling. He sat patiently watching the entrance and occasionally glancing at his watch. He had been here for quite some time, anxious to meet with at least one of his former Oxford classmates. Being well past teatime, he was about to leave when they appeared. He rose to greet them.
“Darcy, Bingley, you’re just the two I’ve been looking for,” Dickens said, approaching them with a wide grin.
“Dickens, what are you doing here? I thought you’d taken an academic position somewhere in the States,” Fitzwilliam Darcy answered, shaking Harry’s offered hand.
“Yes, I have. My wife and I are visiting family, but I have another reason for being here,” Dickens said as he shook Bingley’s hand next. “I have been thinking about our conversation last autumn. Are you two still interested in teaching positions?”
“Well, that depends
on what and where, I suppose. I’ve been working with my father at Pemberley, but as we’ve discussed before, teaching is what I’ve always wanted to do.” Darcy wrinkled his brow. “What do you have in mind?”
Suggesting they take a seat, Dickens asked, “How about you, Bingley, are you still interested?”
“It depends, Harry, what are you offering?”
“Well, since you asked, I’ll come to the point.” Dickens smiled. “I’m the dean of a liberal arts college, which at the present is very small in a moderately-sized engineering university. The Cumberland College of Liberal Arts is wanting, and it’s my intention to change that. We now offer a minor in classical studies, but there’s an interest in bringing that up to a major.” He glanced between his friends with a wide smile. “I’m looking for two professors who can take on that challenge. I need someone who can teach classical Greek and Latin.” He turned to face his old friend. “Darcy, if my memory serves me right, that’s your field of expertise.”
“Yes,” Darcy chuckled, “Greek and Latin are two of my favorite subjects, and I’m well versed in them, as well as ancient philosophy and ancient history. Although I do not hold a D.Phil. in either of them, I have studied them extensively.”
“Then I’m correct. You’re perfect for the position.” Glancing at Bingley, he added, “Bingley, your area of proficiency is classical literature, is it not?”
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