Page 4

Jane shook her head. “To use such a fanciful word as recovery overshoots the mark, Lizzy. There was nothing from which to recover, for I find myself most content.”

“Then I am happy to hear it, dear sister.”

Whatever Jane expected from the future, it was not to meet another man with such alacrity.

It was at an event at Sir William’s house in early January that she first noticed a man she had never met.

As Jane watched him idly upon first seeing him, she considered his tall and handsome form, his broad shoulders, and his ready wit and engaging smile.

Mr. Bingley had possessed all these traits in abundance, but the man before her married those qualities with an air of seriousness that all adults must possess.

While she did not consider Mr. Bingley deficient, Jane now knew that the man had lacked something of soberness, a characteristic possessed to excess in his friend.

This new man possessed the same air; though she had thought she would need several more weeks in Mr. Bingley’s company to fall in love with him, she found she did not need so much time in the newcomer’s company to reach that heady state.

“Jane,” said Deborah Harrington that evening, long before Jane knew what her future held, “my cousin has expressed a desire to know you.”

“Of course, Deborah,” said Jane.

Deborah introduced the man as Richard Harrington, a relation from Warwickshire.

As Jane curtseyed to the gentleman’s bow and he spoke to her for the first time, Jane felt something stirring in her heart quite different from anything she had experienced with Mr. Bingley.

While Jane discounted the notion of loving a man at first sight, by the end of that first evening, she thought he could make her love him with tolerable ease.

By the end of the week, she anticipated every opportunity to meet him, and by the time spring arrived, Jane was desperately in love with him.

Welcome to all Mrs. Bennet’s maternal feelings was the day when Mr. Harrington proposed and Jane accepted, but no other matched Jane’s incandescent happiness.

Though Mr. Bingley was a good man, Jane knew it was for the best that he had gone away, for she could not imagine achieving the heights of happiness with him that she knew she would reach with Mr. Harrington.

“Well, Jane?” asked an effusive Elizabeth the night of her engagement. “As I recall, you said that you never loved Mr. Bingley. Given the silly grin that has not departed from your face in the hours since you accepted Mr. Harrington’s proposal, might I assume that is not the case now?”

“Do not be silly, Lizzy!” exclaimed Jane, swiping a little at Elizabeth’s arm. “As I have confessed to you more than once, I love Richard to distraction.”

“Then you shall be a fortunate woman, indeed,” said Elizabeth.

“Well do I know it. I only hope that you will someday find equal happiness.”

“I shall do my best, Jane. For your sake, I shall make every attempt.”

IT COULD NOT BE SUPPOSED that Mrs. Bennet, upon learning of the engagement of her eldest and most beautiful daughter, would not set about planning the most stupendous celebration the community had ever seen.

Knowing as she did about the coming expenditure to gain control of Longbourn forever, Elizabeth worried that her mother would spend far too much on wedding fripperies, as her father called them, bankrupting the family in the process.

Two factors prevented her from doing as she wished.

“No, Mama, I do not wish to wait until the autumn to marry.” Jane, showing a firm demeanor far exceeding what she usually presented, did not release her mother’s gaze. “Two months will be more than sufficient a delay, for I do not need a special celebration.”

“But Jane!” wailed her mother. “We cannot rush these things. And what will the neighbors say if we do not commemorate your fete with the appropriate verve?”

“They will say nothing, for they will not know what they are missing, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bennet, laughter in his tone.

“May is ideal, for it has often been said that a spring wedding is a lovely occasion. Please also recall, my dear, that we are not wealthy. Celebrate Jane’s important day with all the fervor you wish, but please do not pauper us. ”

In the end, Mrs. Bennet had no choice. That did not mean that she did not scheme to get every possible farthing from her husband, but Mr. Bennet was firm in what they could and could not afford, and Jane, informed of the upcoming end of the entail, also acted to curb her mother’s more extravagant impulses.

It was fortunate, to Elizabeth’s way of thinking, that the business with Mr. Collins concluded not long after Jane’s engagement, for reining her in proved more difficult than anyone imagined.

“Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bennet, the day after he received the contract signed by Mr. Collins, “I have an announcement to make. As this will affect us all, I ask for your attendance.”

The way Mrs. Bennet regarded her husband suggested she suspected him of saying something caustic or embarrassing, not an unlikely suspicion given their history.

Elizabeth, who knew what he would announce, looked at Jane, who also knew, and a glance at Richard, who was also present, informed her that Jane had told her future husband.

Some men might protest at what Mr. Bennet meant to do, for it was the common practice to leave an estate to the eldest child.

Richard, however, was so enamored with his fiancée that Elizabeth knew he carried no ill will for what was about to occur.

“Yes, Mr. Bennet?” asked his wife. “Do you have something else to say about the preparations?”

“If it were only that prosaic, I would not take so much trouble to announce it,” was Mr. Bennet’s wry reply. “No, this is of greater importance, though I intend no slight on our excellent Jane and her beau.”

“None taken, Mr. Bennet,” said Richard, shooting his future father-in-law a grin.

“Then I ask you to tell us at once, for there is no end to the planning I still must do for Jane’s wedding.”

A glare at all and sundry for the indignity of a much simpler wedding than she preferred accompanied her words. While this might have provoked Mr. Bennet to laughter and further witticisms had the news been anything else, he offered his wife no more than a grin.

“I think once you have heard my news, you will agree it is a most portentous matter and one that will cause you to forget all about your planning. You see, Mrs. Bennet, I received a letter in January; unlike the usual correspondence I receive, this was a matter of not only importance but urgency. As such, I acted on it at once.”

“If so, it cannot be that important,” complained Mrs. Bennet. “January was three months ago.”

“It was, but that only signifies that settling the business consumed the past three months. Do you recall when I journeyed to London?”

“I do,” replied Mrs. Bennet. “That was part of this business?”

“An integral part,” agreed Mr. Bennet. “If you recall, before he left Longbourn in November, Mr. Collins made several statements about his disinclination for Hertfordshire, and when I challenged him on it, he promised to consider my offer and respond. That response came in January. Thus, now that everything is signed and settled, it is my pleasure to announce that Longbourn is no longer under an entail. The estate is now ours and will not devolve to my cousin upon my death.”

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes bulged out of her head, amusing her husband with her expected reaction—Elizabeth thought her shock would be enough to render her insensible.

The cacophony of feminine voices—the three sisters who had known nothing of the business—rose demanding answers to their questions, but Mrs. Bennet remained stock still, unable to utter a syllable in response to the announcement.

“Yes, Lydia, it is the truth,” said Mr. Bennet to his youngest. “Longbourn is now mine, and I may leave it to whomever of you I wish. No, Kitty, you will not need to leave your home should something happen to me, and yes, Mary, I am completely in earnest. Longbourn is free of the entail. My cousin no longer has any claim over it.”

While Bennet turned his attention to his wife at that moment, Mrs. Bennet still appeared stupefied, allowing Bennet to continue his explanation.

“As such, I have conceived a novel solution to our particular problem. Now that the estate is ours, I must act to protect you all for the rest of your lives. As such, Lizzy is my heir now and will receive Longbourn should something happen to me.”

Mr. Bennet turned to Richard. “In doing so, I hope our dear Jane and her fiancé will not accuse me of passing her over.”

“Not at all, Papa,” said Jane, as serene as ever.

“I concur with your plan, Mr. Bennet,” said Richard.

“Excellent.” Mr. Bennet turned back to the rest of the family.

“Should Elizabeth marry, the estate will then pass to Mary, and so on to Kitty and Lydia in turn. If you all marry, the estate will then be put in trust. Mrs. Bennet will live here for the rest of her life or as long as she wishes, as will any younger unmarried daughters. Then, the estate will pass to the eldest second son of my daughters, providing for them and keeping the estate in the family. I hope that meets your approval.”

“I am not required to leave Longbourn?”

The comment, when it came from Mrs. Bennet, was near pathetic in the hope that infused it. Seeing this, Mr. Bennet grinned at his wife and approached her, eschewing his usual practice of teasing.

“No, Maggie, you will not. Should you wish to live with one of your daughters, I shall leave that to you to arrange. Longbourn, however, is now ours, and I have asked Philips to rewrite my will in such a way as to guarantee your continued residence here for the rest of your life if you wish.”