Page 12 of Ever After End

CHAPTER 11

M eryton - September 1811

Mrs Bennet left her sister’s home on an early Wednesday afternoon, and made her way to the haberdashers. Usually, she was accompanied on most of her errands by one or more of her daughters, but today they were all occupied. Jane and Mary were visiting the tenants, Elizabeth had walked to Netherfield to visit Mrs Lockhart, and Kitty and Lydia were off somewhere, presumably doing their best to obtain husbands in red coats.

Mrs Bennet and Mrs Phillips had just enjoyed a lively natter about the audacity of the Lucas family. Since Charlotte’s terrible behaviour, and the resulting cruelties of the rest of the Lucas family, Mrs Bennet’s friendship with Lady Lucas was firmly at an end. Mrs Bennet was therefore understandably spending a great deal more time with her sister.

Mrs Bennet entered the shop and greeted Mrs Cobb, the proprietor’s wife. “Good day, Mrs Cobb, I hope you are well.”

“Mrs Bennet! I am very well, and you?” returned Mrs Cobb .

“I have nothing of which to complain, except that my daughters are all still unmarried, but that is nothing new,” answered Mrs Bennet.

“I am grateful for it every time you come in, if you do not mind my saying so. Longbourn’s family are our best customers for lace and ribbon,” said Mrs Cobb good-naturedly. “The new kid gloves you ordered have arrived. I must say, the leather is so soft, I have never seen its equal.”

The gloves were pulled out, and the two women exclaimed over the quality at length before the bill was settled. Mrs Bennet thanked Mrs Cobb and left the shop. She was headed back towards her sister’s house, and her carriage, which were only a few hundred feet away, when she heard the roaring laughter of young men from around the corner, near the entrance to the inn.

“What did she do then, Wickham?” shouted a man that Mrs Bennet recognised as Lieutenant Chamberlain.

“Well then, my friends, Miss Kitty Bennet snapped her legs closed so hard and fast I nearly thought I should lose my hand!” Wickham laughed derisively. “Then of course, she cried, virgins always cry a bit before they give it up, you know, and then after I promised that we would be married before St Valentine’s Day, she promised herself to me the very next time we see one another, presumably after she has mustered her courage, and whenever she can sneak away again. I swear, I would have placed money on the younger chit, Miss Lydia, to be the first to offer up her virtue, but it seems that Miss Kitty’s self doubt has driven her to secure me before her sister can do so. Miss Lydia has done nothing more than sneak out and allow a few chaste kisses, but she will give in soon enough, they all do.”

“What will prevent you from having them all?” an unknown officer said.

“I cannot see much that will prevent me from having them all, except perhaps the pious one, and even then, sometimes those girls can be the easiest marks!” boasted Wickham.

“I do not know, Miss Bennet seems sure enough of her charms and well-bred enough that she might never give in, Wickham, and the next one, Miss Elizabeth, does not seem to care very much for you. She is clever, that is certain,” said Captain Carter.

“She is a piece, though, is she not?” said Wickham. “I have never intended to throw myself away on such a small sum as fifteen thousand. I am certain that my charms are worth twice as much, but considering her spirit, and the fact that she owns a house in town as well, I might take that one to wife. Miss Bennet is beautiful, but the others are all so intolerably stupid as to make a man die of boredom. Miss Elizabeth is the prize of all of them, in wit and in fortune. I may have to meet her upon one of her early morning walks, and persuade her .”

Mrs Bennet could listen no more. She turned away from the raucous laughter and hurried to the carriage, doing her best not to weep the moment that the horses began to move. How was it that she had done it all wrong? She had raised her girls the way that she had been raised, with only a slightly better education, and she had been certain that it would be enough for all of them to do at least as well as she had done, if not better. Now, it was being thrown in her face again and again, that men did not want stupid wives, not even the wicked ones. Not even stupid men wanted stupid wives any more.

Mr Bennet did not seem to care much about her education when they married. He was immediately captivated by her looks, and though their affinity had quickly diminished after they wed, he availed himself of his marital rights quite often until Mr Jones warned them that future confinements would be dangerous for Mrs Bennet. But it was always clear to Fanny that her husband had married her for her good looks and smiling nature, and no other concern. Believing her daughters would need nothing else, she educated them as much as she saw necessary, though Elizabeth, Mary, and even Jane had persisted in their studies for far longer than she had ever considered necessary.

What was she to do? How could she save them? It was obvious to Fanny that the expectations of men had changed since she was out. When she married, men wanted stupid wives – probably so that they might carry on with their vile behaviours after marriage – and their wives would be too dull to notice. Now, men seemed to want educated women who could help with their estates. Even fiends like that Wickham seemed to admire intelligent women. Not only was Fanny now faced with improving her daughters so that they would be considered suitable, she also had to prevent them from being ruined, either by the wagging tongues of the officers, or the officers themselves.

When Fanny Bennet arrived at home, all of her girls had returned from their activities, and were in the drawing room together, each engaged in a typical manner for the residents of Longbourn.

She entered the hall, shouting, “Hill! Hill!” The housekeeper came running, as she always did, and assisted Mrs Bennet with her pelisse. “Mrs Hill, no officers are to be admitted to Longbourn ever again!” she cried.

“Mama, whatever do you mean?” asked Lydia, as her daughters poured into the hall to see what was the matter. “Of course, we shall receive the officers, Denny is meant to be coming here for tea later today, and dear Wickham is to accompany him.”

“Dear Wickham indeed! Go to your room, Lydia Bennet, and stay there until I call for you!” said Mrs Bennet, whirling on her youngest.

“Mama, what have we done wrong?” asked Kitty plaintively.

“ What have you done indeed, Catherine Josephine Bennet!” shrieked Mrs Bennet in a rage. “As a matter of fact, you will no longer share with Lydia. And Jane will no longer share with Elizabeth. My younger daughters need more attention. Kitty and Lydia have the second largest room, so Mary will share it with Kitty from now on. Lydia will move to Jane’s room and share with her eldest sister. Elizabeth may have the smaller room to herself.”

“Mama! I am not going to sleep with boring old Jane!” cried Lydia indignantly. “I will stay in my room with Kitty as I have always done!”

“You will do as you are told, Lydia Bennet! As a matter of fact, none of you will leave the house for any reason until further notice without my express permission! Now go to your rooms!” Mrs Bennet turned to Mrs Hill and began instructing her that she and all of the younger ladies would take their dinner on trays, and that the family was at home to no callers for the rest of the day.

Mrs Bennet caught Elizabeth by the elbow as she followed her sisters upstairs to move her belongings. “Lizzy, I am not attempting to punish you, but I must curtail your walks entirely.”

“Mama, whatever is wrong? What has frightened you so?” begged her second youngest.

Mrs Bennet only shook her head. “It is not safe, especially for you. Do not leave the house, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth searched her mother’s face for a long moment. “Very well. I shall not go out without permission, Mama. And I shall endeavour to have Mary and Jane help me in watching Kitty and Lydia more closely.”

“Do,” said Mrs Bennet. “You will all remain above stairs today. See if Mary and Jane can persuade their younger sisters to engage in something worthwhile. Those two are finished with wasting their time!”

“I am happy to hear that, Mama. I shall help you in any way that I can,” promised Elizabeth as they parted.

Mrs Bennet remained downstairs for another moment to give Hill more instructions. As she turned to go up the stairs, she noticed her husband lounging against the door to his book room. “What is the excitement?” he inquired.

“Oh, you are useless!” Fanny waved her hand dismissively as she turned away and ascended the stairs. Thomas was part of the problem, with his wit and his sarcasm, always believing he was better and more intelligent than everyone else. He ought to have made her do something about the girls years ago, if he was indeed so clever. Did he even care about them at all, allowing them to run about as they did? Thomas was a man. He had to know the true nature of officers and other men, and yet he had done nothing to protect their girls. There was nothing that could be said that made Fanny believe that he cared even a little.

The Bennet girls obeyed their mother and remained above stairs for the rest of the day, taking their time moving their possessions, drawing new boundary lines in their new quarters with their sisters. They took trays together in Jane’s room for dinner, and attempted to determine between themselves what must have happened to set off their mother in such a way. Kitty was interrogated, considering Mrs Bennet’s words to her, but though their sister’s head remained bowed in shame over what she suspected her mother knew, she would not confess anything to the others.

The following day, they broke their fast together in the dining room, though their parents did not join them. Their father never did, if their mother dined upstairs. Thomas Bennet had not the temperament to put up with his girls’ antics when their mother was not present, not that she made their conversation any more appealing, but his wife made too much of a fuss about the family dining together when she ate downstairs, and he capitulated in order to keep peace.

The young ladies spent the day in the drawing room, Lydia whining endlessly about going out, insisting that their mother did not truly mean her words, and that surely, when Mrs Bennet eventually returned downstairs to join them, she would let them return to their previous sleeping arrangements, insisting that all of their work moving possessions the day before had been an utter waste.

Elizabeth and Jane refused to hear her pleas, and demanded that they would all obey their mother and stay home, at least until she calmed, and explained what had upset her. They were not to receive such elucidation that day, nor the next, for Mrs Bennet remained closeted in her rooms for some three days, only sending down instructions with Hill that the family was not at home, and that the young ladies were still confined to the house.

On the third morning, Mr Bennet, at the pleas of Elizabeth and Jane, climbed the stairs and pounded upon his wife’s door. “Fanny, I must insist that you open this door and tell me what is the matter!” He went on like this for some minutes before Mrs Bennet opened the door, her face streaked with tears.

“Fanny,” he said gently. “Enough is enough. Will you not tell me what has upset you? I promise, I shall endeavour not to be useless.”

The door closed behind him as his wife fell into his arms, sobbing out the tale of Mr Wickham’s words, and the behaviour of Kitty, the threat to Elizabeth, the laughter and encouragement of the other men.

“You knew, Thomas!” When he raised an eyebrow at her, she went on. “You are a man, you are one of them. You have been more in the world, and to university. You knew what the officers were like, did you not?” Her husband avoided her gaze as she glared at him, refusing to look away. At length he nodded.

“Are they all like that? All men?” she demanded.

“Most of them,” he admitted.

“Then why would you allow our girls to run about the village in such danger?” she cried.

“Fanny, you must take responsibility for your part. I advocated for sense years ago, you have defied me at every turn,” he excused himself.

“ I have never been to university! I have never been around young men to hear what they speak of when they are away from ladies! I know what other ladies know; I know there are dangers, but not that all men are like this !” Fanny protested. “ You have a duty, Thomas, and it is not to exist and read books, as Mary always says. You have a duty to protect us, even from ourselves! You have a duty to care about what happens to those girls. You have done nothing to protect them and educate them.”

“You are their mother. You did not want them to be educated,” pointed out her husband. “As it was, I educated them all far beyond what you approved of.”

“And I was wrong. I was very wrong, and I am sorry you did not make me see it. Men do not want stupid wives. Just you, it seems, for some reason.”

Her husband watched her contemplatively for a long moment. “So what will you do next?”

“What will I do next? I hope you mean what will we do next!” said Fanny indignantly. “You have contributed to this, Thomas, and you will help me to repair what damage we can.”

The two began to discuss matters. Lydia would be brought back in. She was too young to be out. Kitty was of an age to be out in the country, so if they pulled her back in, it would be remarked on by the neighbourhood. Lydia could be considered a failed experiment, her youthful exuberance an explanation as to why she would return to the school room. Kitty was seventeen, old enough to be out in the village, and Mrs Bennet feared that if they removed her from society, that their neighbours would cast some well deserved suspicion of wrongdoing upon her. As it was, the fear that the gossip of the officers would reach the residents of Meryton was well worth considering.

A companion would be hired for their three youngest, someone who could serve as something of a combined governess in addition to her duties as companion. Mr Bennet would take charge of Lydia’s studies. Mrs Bennet brought up that Elizabeth and Mary had been asking for masters, and she was keen to see the educations of them all improved, perhaps save Jane, who was rather old for lessons.

“I hate to tell you this, Fanny, but the budget will not stretch to a governess and also masters for pianoforte and French. Perhaps you should ask your second daughter to help pay for it,” said Thomas.

Fanny glared at him. She hoped that she did not sound so awful when she asked Lizzy to pay for things, and decided then and there she would cease such behaviour. “It is not Lizzy’s place to pay for the education of her sisters. Come. We will repair to your study, and consult the ledgers. I am certain that room can be made somewhere.” When her husband looked sceptical of this, she continued. “I have been managing Longbourn’s household for years, Thomas. I know my way around ledgers. In fact, we will bring mine as well. I am sure that there are expenses that I can eliminate.”

Thomas followed his wife downstairs. By the end of the day, Jane had been invited into the discussion by Mrs Bennet, though they did not tell her the cause of the new endeavours. Jane was to inherit, so now Mr Bennet was far more obligated to improve the estate for her, and to allow her a say in its running, considering that she was past her majority. At Jane’s insistence, Elizabeth had been invited to consult on the new Longbourn budget as well, and had offered many valuable suggestions. By the time they finished, Mr and Mrs Bennet had both given way on a number of sacrifices. Longbourn would entertain slightly less, be less extravagant when the family dined alone, and Mr Bennet had a strict new limit of how much he would spend on books.