Page 13 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

Drawing Room

Longbourn

Elizabeth curled contentedly into her favorite chair in the living room and reached for her sewing, happy to be back in her own familiar home, in front of a warm fire.

The room was smaller and cozier and more intimate than the Netherfield drawing room, and though it contained Mrs. Bennet and Lydia and Kitty, it did not have Miss Bingley with her rustling silks and flashing bracelets and supercilious remarks, or Mrs. Hurst looking down her nose.

Tonight, Elizabeth would slide into the linen sheets of her own bed, wearing her own nightgown and nightcap, and fall asleep heated by the fire in her own familiar grate.

For that, Elizabeth could put up with any amount of sisterly boisterousness and maternal displeasure, although there certainly was a goodly amount of maternal displeasure to weather.

“I really do not see why you had to return today,” Mrs. Bennet fretted for the fourth time. “All that mud, not to mention the broken bridge. I thought you would be at Netherfield for a few more days, at least!”

“Well, I for one am pleased that our elder daughters are home, because I have missed you all,” Mr. Bennet said. “Moreover, I have an announcement to make, and I am thankful that all of you are available to hear it.”

Gratifyingly, his womenfolk immediately turned their attention on him, and he enjoyed a long moment of silence before he said, “We will have not one but two visitors in the next few days, my dears.”

“Mr. Bingley and one of his friends, no doubt?” Mrs. Bennet said eagerly. “Lydia, my dear, touch the bell. I must speak to Hill immediately as we must have the sort of dinner that…”

“Not Mr. Bingley or any of the inhabitants of Netherfield Hall,” her husband interrupted. “No, the first visitor is Mr. Collins, my heir, who will have the opportunity to throw you out of Longbourn as soon as I am dead in my grave.”

Elizabeth winced at this blunt remark and was not surprised at her mother’s response.

“Oh, dear me,” cried Mrs. Bennet. “I cannot bear to hear that name mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world that your estate should be entailed away from your own children. I am sure if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth with the intention of trying to explain the entail to her mother and then closed it again.

There was no point. She and Jane and Mary had tried many a time to make clear that there was nothing that could be done, but no matter what they said, they always failed to convince her mother.

“It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” said Mr. Bennet. “And nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may perhaps be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself.”

“No, I think it was very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could not he keep on quarreling with you, as his father did before him?”

“Why, indeed, he does seem to have had some concerns on that head, as you will hear.”

Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,

15th October

Dear Sir,

The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honored father always gave me much uneasiness, and, since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach, but, for some time, I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had ever pleased him to be at variance.

My mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for, having received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honorable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavor to demean myself with grateful respect towards her Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England.

As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence, and on these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures of good-will are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive branch.

I beg leave to apologize for the injury to your amiable daughters and wish to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends.

I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family,4 th November, by four o’clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality for a week or more, which I can do without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day.

I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend,

William Collins

Mr. Bennet finished reading the letter and looked around, his eyes crinkled in amusement.

“What ever can he mean about making amends for being the heir?” Mary demanded in a suspicious tone.

“I cannot imagine,” Elizabeth replied with a sigh. “Nor do I understand his apology, precisely. After all, it is not to be supposed that he would set his position aside if he could. Surely he cannot be a sensible man, Father?”

“No, my dear, I think not. I have great hopes offinding him quite the reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his letter, which promises well. I am impatient to see him. But enough of Mr. Collins. The other arrival in question is Miss Evangeline Fairchild, who will be coming to live with us as a governess and will arrive tomorrow morning.”

Mrs. Bennet, who had been brooding over Mr. Collins, lifted her chin in astonishment and demanded, “A governess, Mr. Bennet? What on earth? Why on earth? We have never had a governess before, and our girls are grown up, and…”

“I asked for a governess, Mamma,” Mary interrupted.

“I know I am not as pretty as my sisters, and I wish for more instruction so that I can improve my accomplishments. I never thought that I would be able to find a husband in the past, but now that I have a substantial dowry there is hope, and becoming a better player and singer will help me in that endeavor.”

Elizabeth turned an admiring gaze on her sister. While her explanation was truthful, there was much left unsaid as well, namely Mary’s desire for someone else to look after Kitty and Lydia.

“Oh!” Mrs. Bennet said blankly and then fell silent for a full minute before continuing.

“Well, I suppose that does make sense, Mary. You are a wealthy woman and could reach very high, and I know some gentlemen want accomplished ladies. Very well, I expect it will be all right so long as Miss … Miss…?”

“Fairchild,” Mr. Bennet said.

“So long as she does not try to interfere with my running of Longbourn.”

“She will be here to instruct Mary and any other daughters with an interest in becoming more accomplished,” Mr. Bennet said.

Lydia, who was looking bored, tossed her head and said, “Well, I for one have no interest in accomplishments. Why should I, when I am handsome enough to win an officer’s hand without being able to play the pianoforte or the harp or sing or anything of that sort?”

“I am not certain that is true, Lydia,” Jane said. “After all, I am two and twenty, and while generally considered beautiful, have not managed to garner an offer from a gentleman.”

Lydia shrugged and said, “You are very handsome, Jane, but so staid and dull. The officers like a girl who is lively and cheerful, who will dance and sing and flirt, like me.”

“Indeed you are exactly what a gentleman wants, my dear,” Mrs. Bennet said lovingly, “and now that you have five thousand pounds, there is a decent chance that you will win an offer from a man with a red coat, though he needs to be a captain at least.”

“Why?” Kitty demanded.

“Because of the money, of course!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.

“Lieutenants need only have an income of fifty pounds a year, and even with your own two hundred pounds from the four percents, that is not nearly enough to live on. But the captains must have at least two hundred pounds a year, or be heir to a four hundred pound estate, and while it would still be difficult to get by with four hundred pounds a year, it might be possible.”

Elizabeth regarded her mother with a mixture of exasperation and surprise.

For as long as she could remember, Mrs. Bennet had been trying to marry off her daughters, with no discussion at all about the income of prospective husbands.

Now, out of nowhere, she was actually discussing money? It was bizarre.

“You never said anything like that before,” Kitty said indignantly.

“Until your aunt Amelia was kind enough to remember you girls in her will, you had no money at all, and any husband would be better than none given that I only have five thousand pounds for my marriage settlements, which is far too little to support five daughters. But now that each of you has adequate funds to live on, you can be fussier in your choice of husband.”

Elizabeth blinked in surprise and turned to stare at her father, who was frowning thoughtfully.

“Well, I will not marry an ugly, boring man, even if he does have money,” Lydia declared irritably.

“Of course, you need not,” Mrs. Bennet said in a soothing tone.

***

Library

Longbourn

A Few Minutes Later

Mr. Bennet leaned back against the cushioned leather of his favorite wingback chair and stretched out his legs comfortably towards the fire.

The Odyssey hung in his hand, and he moved it to rest in his lap lest he drop the precious volume.

He looked down at it for a moment, brushing his hands across the brown leather binding.

He was not ready to read it just yet, as there were matters occupying his mind, namely the arrival of the new governess, followed by the visit from his heir, Mr. Collins.

Bennet found himself pondering Miss Fairchild and hoped that the lady was resolute and well-used to taking in hand willful and wayward young ladies.

Certainly he had at least one, and possibly two, for her to control.

Kitty perhaps could yet be salvaged, but Lydia was, frankly, a problem.

There was not a thought in that pretty, vacuous head except to flirt and throw herself at every single man who so much as glanced in her direction, regardless of eligibility.

He blamed her mother for this absurd preoccupation.

Mrs. Bennet had, for as long as Bennet could remember, spoken only of their daughters marrying.

She had instilled that idea into, at the very least, Lydia’s head, and likely Kitty’s as well, and it was a wonder that she had not been successful with Jane and Lizzy and perhaps Mary.

Elizabeth’s eyes had gone quite wide at dinner when her mother had spoken of prudence in choosing a husband, and she had looked to Mr. Bennet.

He was no less surprised by his wife’s sudden burst of wisdom, though it rather seemed, now, to be too little too late.

The damage to Lydia and Kitty was done as both were silly twits, focused entirely on marrying the first man who would offer for them.

Lydia especially troubled him. Bennet could admit to himself that he likely would never have taken notice of her without the urging of his eldest three daughters, who had been completely correct in saying that Lydia was headstrong, conceited, and foolish.

Mrs. Bennet had doted on her youngest from infancy, as Lydia was blonde and blue-eyed like herself, along with being lively.

Jane was the other recipient of Mrs. Bennet’s open preference, but Jane had, by some strange trick of nature or ancestry, grown up kind and generous and disciplined, where Lydia ran wild as a young colt.

It was high time she was broken to bridle, but what a tedious job that would be.

The very thought made him tired, and he was glad it was going to be Miss Fairchild contending with his youngest daughters, and not he himself.

He was too old to be fighting with willful young girls, he considered ruefully, rubbing at his own sternum, which had begun hurting dully right after dinner.

It seemed his digestion was not all it used to be, either.

Still, his situation was a pleasant one, with a crackling fire in the hearth, his brandy sitting on the table nearby, and a good book to hand.

His two wayward youngest daughters would soon be handed into the competent Miss Fairchild’s keeping, to learn manners and refined behavior, while he remained safely ensconced in his library to read.

The absurd Mr. Collins would almost certainly provide excellent entertainment when he arrived, not only to Bennet himself, who dearly enjoyed mocking fools, but also to Lizzy, who found equal amusement in the farcical foibles of others.

Smiling to himself, Mr. Bennet opened his book to his marker, settled into his chair, and began with enjoyment to read of Odysseus and his brave crew contending with the dreadful Charybdis.