Page 52 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

The Church in Meryton

Graveyard

It was a lovely morning, with warm sun, blue skies, white clouds, singing birds, and a gentle breeze, which seemed incongruous given the solemn business being enacted in the little Meryton churchyard. A new white stone sat nearby, ready to be placed to mark the fresh grave.

Already the simple coffin had been placed in the ground, and Darcy stared somberly down at it, along with his fellow mourners.

Bingley and Richard stood on either side of him, and Phillips and Gardiner, the deceased’s brothers-in-law, waited a few feet away.

Mr. Allen, the Meryton rector, standing near the head of the grave, peered down at the prayer book open in his hands.

A little ways off, the sexton leaned on his shovel, waiting to transfer the heap of damp soil beside him back into the hole from whence it had come.

“I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord,” Mr. Allen intoned . “He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.”

Although his gaze remained steady on the coffin, Darcy’s mind wandered from the quiet ceremony back to the happenings of the last few days.

It had been a sorrowful period, with Jane and Elizabeth and Mary preparing their father’s body and sitting in vigil over it, joined at times, somewhat to Darcy’s surprise, by Kitty and even Lydia, though the youngest Miss Bennet was always accompanied by Miss Fairchild.

Mrs. Bennet’s efforts had been focused on overseeing the dyeing of frocks for everyone, so that the entire family could be in proper mourning clothes.

Her new sons by marriage had handed over cravats and gloves for the same purpose.

Darcy, being a man, had only briefly entered the dim back sitting room where Mr. Bennet’s body had lain.

The room had been chosen for being out of the way, facing north with little natural light, and cool, which helped preserve the body.

Darcy had brought tea to his wife, who had been sitting beside her father, face pale and eyes red.

He had paid his respects to his deceased father-in-law and slipped out again.

There was too much to be done for him to linger.

For instance, all the personal effects of the remaining ladies had to be packed up and sent, at least temporarily, to Netherfield.

William Collins was most likely even now on his way to Longbourn, alerted by a vengeful Lady Catherine to Mr. Bennet’s imminent demise.

It would not do to trust in the man’s godly charity.

He had been spurned by not only lovely Elizabeth but also by wealthy Mary, and no one truly thought that he would defy his patroness’s wishes that he fling the Bennet ladies from the house in the very hour of his arrival.

Servants, along with tenant wives and daughters, with fondness for the Bennet women, who had come after births and deaths, at Boxing Days and catastrophes, bearing food and blankets, had surged into the house.

They had filled the old familiar rooms, packing up dresses and bonnets, knickknacks and books, all the personal belongings of Mrs. Bennet, and Kitty, and Lydia, and even the governess’s few items. It was a mercy that Jane’s and Elizabeth’s and Mary’s belongings had been taken to Netherfield a week previously.

Even now, wagons and carriages were rumbling continuously along the lane between the two estates.

“O God, whose mercies cannot be numbered,” Mr. Allen continued.

“Accept our prayers on behalf of thy servant Thomas Bennet, and granthiman entrance into the land of light and joy, in the fellowship of thy saints; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

As hard and dreadful as the time was for the entire family, Darcy could only be thankful for the triple wedding only a few days earlier.

This way, at least, the displaced family had somewhere to go and had strong and wealthy sons by marriage to provide protection and guidance.

When the funeral was over and Bennet’s remains interred, Darcy would return home – Longbourn, in this case, for where his wife was, there was his heart also – and take Elizabeth in his arms and shelter her for a while against himself as she wept.

The loss of her beloved father was hard for her, but no harder, Darcy quietly suspected, than watching him waste away in illness and infirmity.

Bennet’s death was tragically sad, but it had been a long time in coming, and there was a certain sense of relief that he had at last passed on peacefully.

Soon enough, Darcy would take his wife to Pemberley, far from painful reminders and an interloping distant cousin.

Likely he would take several members of her family, too, because Mrs. Bennet would probably complain incessantly about losing Longbourn if she were within but a few miles of the mansion where she had spent her married life.

It was no matter. Pemberley was big enough for all of them, and Mr. Bennet’s family would be able to grieve him in peace, comforted by Darcy and Georgiana and Richard.

“ In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ,” the parson continued solemnly , “we commend to Almighty God our brother Thomas Bennet, and we commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless him and keep him, the Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him and give him peace. Amen.”

“Amen,” the associated men murmured, and then, one after the other, each man knelt, took a clump of dirt, and tossed it on the casket as a solemn farewell to Mr. Bennet of Longbourn.

***

Longbourn

Two Days Later

William Collins waited for his former patroness to step out of the well-sprung carriage and then followed her out onto the ground.

He stopped and looked around and could not help smiling broadly.

Longbourn, worth two thousand pounds a year, was his, all his.

He was no longer a mere parson but a landowner, and the most important one in the area of Meryton.

“Mr. Collins!” Lady Catherine said sharply. “Will you not escort me within?”

He turned an apologetic look on the lady and bobbed his head. “Yes, of course, Lady Catherine.”

He turned toward the stables and frowned heavily.

Where were the stablemaster and his boys, whose responsibility it was to care for the horses?

No one was in evidence, and the stables were oddly quiet.

That was entirely rude, given that the new master of the estate was here.

Lady Catherine had brought along an outrider and two footmen and a coachman, so the horses would be well enough, but…

“Come along, Mr. Collins!” Lady Catherine said impatiently and began marching down the path which led to the front of the house.

Mr. Collins followed her, though he found it difficult to keep up with her pace as he kept looking around in wonder.

He was the master of an estate. He would be earning two thousand pounds a year.

It was absolutely incredible, especially since he was but five and twenty years of age.

He realized that his former patroness was some distance away, and he forced himself to speed up. He caught up with her when she reached the bottom step, which led to the porch, and followed her meekly up the stairs as she stomped her way to the front door, which she rapped hard with her cane.

He waited, full of a delightful mixture of anticipation and gratitude. To think that all that lovely furniture was now his, and the bedchambers, and the items in the kitchen, and the books in the library. All his!

The door opened to reveal the familiar form of the butler, Mr. Hill, who bowed and said, “Lady Catherine, Mr. Collins, welcome to Longbourn.”

Collins stepped into the vestibule and looked around, his eyes settling on the wooden staircase, which led to the west wing of the house.

The three bedchambers in that wing of the house belonged – or had belonged – to three of the Bennet daughters, and thus he had not seen them.

He had briefly seen Mr. Bennet’s bedchamber, and it was well enough but not particularly large for the master of the house.

He would inspect the chambers in the west wing soon and decide what was to be done.

Perhaps he would knock down a wall between two of the rooms to make it bigger?

He deserved a large chamber given that he was master of the estate.

“Well, are you intending to lead us to your mistress?” Lady Catherine demanded, breaking into his thoughts, and Collins turned toward the butler and took a step forward.

“Yes, take us to Mrs. Bennet immediately!” he ordered.

“My apologies, my lady, sir,” the butler replied with a wooden expression, “but the Bennet ladies have already departed from Longbourn. They were confident that you would wish to move in as quickly as possible, Mr. Collins, and thus they chose to depart immediately to Netherfield Hall, so that Longbourn could be made ready for your arrival.”

Mr. Collins stared at the butler in dismay. He had been looking forward, so very much, to throwing his cousins from the house. And from the low growl emanating from Lady Catherine, it seemed she was sorely disappointed that she could not inflict some measure of harm on the Bennets.

Also, was this why the stables were so silent?

“What of the outdoor servants?” he asked.

“There are only three servants in residence including myself, sir,” Mr. Hill said, “and the outside servants are all working at Netherfield Hall, as the Bennets and Bingleys thought it likely you would wish to select a new staff for Longbourn.”