Page 29 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Gracechurch Street
Mr. Collins,
My nieces have requested that I write to you with information about the state of affairs at Longbourn.
Mr. Bennet still lives, and his health seems to have steadied. He is not well, but he is better than he was.
If the worst comes and he passes on, we will of course inform you by express.
Sincerely,
Mr. Edward Gardiner
***
Gracechurch Street
15th December, 1811
Dear Nieces,
I will be sending along a Mr. Wallace in the next few days, who will serve as steward of Longbourn for at least a season.
He is a young man with no experience, but his father is steward to a large estate in Sussex, and he seems sensible and hardworking.
I would have chosen a man with more expertise, but the situation is so in flux with Mr. Bennet’s health that several other men I spoke to said they were not interested.
I trust you will do your best to make Mr. Wallace comfortable and teach him what he needs to know.
Edward Gardiner
***
Netherfield Hall
18th December, 1811
Darcy,
Sir Quinton has asked for Miss Lucas’s hand in marriage and has been accepted. They will marry by common license in a few weeks here in Meryton.
You and your cousins are invited to come, of course, but I warn you that Caroline is still being more or less impossible.
I am wondering if perhaps the best course of action is for me to hand over her dowry and allow her to make her own way in the world.
It is not what I wish, but she simply will not accept anything I say that is in opposition to her own desires.
It is incredibly hard for me to hold the line, though thus far I have, by the grace of God, managed to do so.
But it is tedious and frustrating, and I truly do not see why I should be required to bother with her!
It is not as if she is penniless. Indeed, she has a substantial income from her dowry and could easily live with a companion if she were willing to economize a little.
But enough complaining from me.
You asked in your last letter about the Bennets.
Mr. Bennet is about the same, apparently, which is to say that he is not worse but not better either.
I called yesterday for the first time since the disaster and was welcomed with courtesy by the eldest three Bennet daughters.
They all look tired, which is no surprise given how much of a burden is on their shoulders.
It is rather odd that Longbourn has no steward, but it is not a large estate, and presumably Mr. Bennet did not feel the need for such a man.
In any case, they were, as I said, entirely courteous, but I will not call often, as I fear it would be intrusive.
I must meet with my own steward.
Sincerely,
Charles Bingley
***
Longbourn
East Sitting Room
A Few Days Later
Elizabeth blinked hard, focusing her mind on the thin dark stream of steaming tea pouring from the spout of the teapot and filling her porcelain cup, which was decorated with painted roses.
She set the teapot down, careful not to clink it too hard, and added a dollop of milk to both full cups set before her, before handing one to her friend Charlotte, who sat waiting patiently.
Charlotte accepted the cup and saucer with a murmur of thanks and took a sip of tea.
Elizabeth mirrored her, sipping from her cup, and leaned back against the cushions of her chair.
It was so comfortable, the upholstery giving way to her weary body, and the tea delicious and soothing on her tongue, with the warmth of the fire wrapping around her like a blanket.
Weariness sat on her limbs like weights, tugging at her eyelids with the siren song of sleep.
It was so cozy inside, which was only heightened by how bleak it was outside.
The snow of a few weeks previously had melted during a brief thaw, leaving everything brown and gray again, with the ground hard-packed and as cold as the cloudy pewter sky and every shivering bare tree branch.
Elizabeth was thankful that the Lucas carriage had conveyed Charlotte to Longbourn and stood waiting to carry her back to Lucas Lodge, rather than her friend having to walk a mile in such dreadful weather.
For now though, they would enjoy a comfortable conversation right here in front of the fire.
“My dear, you do look exhausted,” Charlotte remarked in concern, and Elizabeth took another sip of tea and managed a weary smile.
“I am tired,” she acknowledged. “Father had a bad night last night, and he soothes best when I read to him, so I was up very late.”
Charlotte sighed deeply, wrinkled her brow and leaned forward. “Eliza, I worry about you. Do you think perhaps you need to hire more servants?”
“I think we have an ample number of servants, but Father responds best with me attending to him. I am hopeful that the situation will grow less exhausting in the near future, with Mr. Wallace taking on more responsibilities for the estate. He is still learning, of course, but is hardworking and sensible. But come, enough about me and my troubles, dear friend. Many, many congratulations on your engagement, Charlotte.”
Miss Lucas turned pink at these words, and her face glowed with joy.
“I am so happy, dear friend, and grateful too. I am aware that Sir Quinton first asked for your hand in marriage, and you not only refused him, but suggested my name as a potential bride. I am astonished at your decision but incredibly appreciative.”
“I am very pleased for you both,” Elizabeth said genuinely. “I am too much of a romantic to wed based on largely practical considerations, but Sir Quinton is a good man, and I am confident you will be a far better Lady Marston than I would ever be! Now, when will you be married?”
“In the middle of January,” Charlotte said, her expression full of wonder. “After that, we will journey on to Essex to his estate. I keep pinching myself, I truly do, wondering if I am dreaming or not. It seems too good to be true!”
“Sir Quinton is very fortunate in his choice of a wife, Charlotte, I assure you.”
“Thank you so very much.”
***
Mr. Bennet’s Bedchamber
Longbourn
25th December, Christmas Day, 1811
Elizabeth moved her Bible a trifle, the better to allow the lit candle behind her to fall upon the page.
She straightened her back and began to read in a clear voice.
“ Inthe beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not. There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. The same came for a witness, to bear witness of the light, that all men through him might believe. He was not that light, but was sent to bear witness of that light. That was the true light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not. He came unto his own, and his own received him not. But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his Name: which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father) full of grace and truth. ”
One of the servants, Sally, had entered her father’s bedchamber while she was reading, and Elizabeth turned to the girl and lifted an eyebrow.
“Miss Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennet requests that you come downstairs for dinner.”
Elizabeth glanced at the clock and was surprised. She had been in her father’s bedchamber far longer than she realized, and it was indeed time for dinner.
“Thank you, Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet said from his bed, where he lay with pillows lifting the upper half of his body. “Thank you.”
“Of course, Father,” she replied, rising to her feet and then walking over to press a kiss on his forehead.
Her father’s speech had improved a trifle more, or perhaps it was that she was more used to him.
At any rate, she was able to understand most of his utterances.
“I will visit you before I retire to my chamber tonight.”
Her sire nodded, leaned back against his pillows, and closed his eyes.
Elizabeth looked down at him with a lump in her throat.
He was not worse than he had been directly after his apoplexy, and perhaps he was a little better, but he was still more or less paralyzed on his left side and was unable to walk or move his left arm.
He was still alive, but she wondered, not for the first time, whether that was a mercy or not. Of course, his continued survival meant that the Bennet ladies were able to stay at Longbourn for now, at least, and that was a blessing.
She pulled a blanket up a trifle to cover more of her father, and then she made her noiseless way out the door and down the corridor to the stairs, which she descended in reasonable haste.
She had not changed for dinner, but everything was so out of routine here at Longbourn that she could not regret it.
She stepped into the dining room to find her mother and sisters and Miss Fairchild already at the table, and she hurried over to sit down next to Jane.
“How is your father today, Lizzy?” Mrs. Bennet demanded as she began cutting up a slice of ham.
“He is about the same,” her second daughter replied, taking a sip of wine.
“The same, the same!” her mother moaned as she lavishly spread butter on her slice of bread.
“Always the same and never better! Oh, Lizzy, I wake up every morning wondering and worrying over whether Mr. Bennet has died in the night! And if he does, we will be thrown out into the snow by Mr. Collins before your father is cold in his grave!”
“Mamma,” Elizabeth said carefully. “The fact that Father has lived this long is an excellent sign. He may live for many more years.”
This was, she thought privately, unlikely, but there was no point in upsetting her mother more.
“Lizzy,” Kitty piped up, “Jane and Lydia and Miss Fairchild and I finished packing the gifts for Boxing Day a few hours ago. Coachman Jack said that he and the stable boys will load all the boxes tomorrow and will drive us to the various tenant families to deliver them.”
“Boxing Day?” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “I truly cannot believe you are concerning yourself with the tenant families when we are in such trouble here at Longbourn. It seems absurd!”
“It is not the tenants’ fault that Father is unwell,” Mary said with surprising sternness. “We would be abandoning our duties if we failed to provide the usual gifts for the tenantry on Boxing Day.”
The lady of the house harrumphed indignantly, and Jane said hastily, “Lydia, am I correct that you added some decoration to the cloaks for the little girls?”
“I did indeed,” the youngest Miss Bennet said with obvious pride. “Nothing too absurd, of course, but a few ribbons and bows for the girls, and I decided on some different gown colors for the babies. Why should they always wear white? It stains so easily and is truly dull. Moreover…”
Lydia continued to prattle on, and Elizabeth turned a grateful look on Miss Fairchild.
Kitty’s passion for drawing and Lydia’s for decorating and designing hats and clothes had been thoughtfully nurtured by the new governess, with the happy result that the younger Misses Bennet were already noticeably more sensible.
Miss Fairchild also ensured that the younger Bennet ladies were carefully chaperoned in Meryton, which was a great benefit, as it allowed the older girls to focus their attention on their parents and the management of Longbourn.
Elizabeth took another sip of dinner wine and had to work to keep her back upright. She was even more tired than usual, since she had been up late the previous night reading to Mr. Bennet and had attended church early in the morning, as was appropriate for Christmas Day.
She would, she decided, ask Mary and Jane whether it would be possible for her to take a nap after dinner.