Page 4 of The Next Mrs Bennet

B eth and Thomas Bennet were impressed that a card had arrived from the Devons just two days after they had taken up residence. Although they were not titled, they were sending cards to those they wanted to meet, which signified their level of society was higher than the landed gentry around Meryton.

Hence, it was on the final Friday of May that Bennet rode his stallion, Plato, to Netherfield Park to introduce himself to the owners of the estate. A groom took the horse, and Bennet climbed the broad stone steps to the veranda in front of the wide double doors. He turned and looked around the park, seeing gardeners busy at work in the formal gardens and other places in the larger park. What he saw was a sure sign that the new owners of the estate took pride in the land and would not allow it to go unattended. Given the previous master’s indolence and uncaring attitude towards his land and tenants, Bennet was sure Netherfield Park’s tenants would be much better off under the stewardship of the Devons.

One of the double doors opened before he was able to lift the knocker. “Welcome to Netherfield Park, Sir. I am Nichols the butler,” the man intoned.

Bennet handed over his card to the butler. After a footman in dark blue livery took his hat, crop, and gloves, he followed the retainer. The man stopped, and if memory served Bennet, they had arrived at the entrance to the largest of the drawing rooms.

“Mr Thomas Bennet of Longbourn,” Nichols announced.

Once the man had intoned his name, Bennet entered the drawing room to see a distinguished couple and two younger ladies standing waiting to meet him. He bowed, and three curtsies and a bow were returned.

“Welcome, Mr Bennet, I am Mr William Devon; this is my wife, Mrs Georgiana Devon, our eldest daughter, Miss Rebecca Devon, and our youngest, Miss Constance. We do have a son, but he is married and is occupied with his wife, so they were not able to join us,” Devon stated. “You may address me as Devon if you prefer.”

“And I am happy to have you use Bennet for me.” Bennet sat where his hostess indicated as everyone took their seats. “I see that Mrs Devon, Miss Devon, and Miss Constance look very much alike.” Miss Devon had caught his eye; he saw intelligence shining from her eyes, and it did not hurt that she was rather lovely.

“You are not the first to remark on that fact,” Mrs Devon noted. She rang for tea.

“Bennet, we will not sport with your intelligence and make it seem like we are ignorant of your situation. We have heard of your being subjected to a compromise and what occurred recently,” Devon broached. “The knowledge did not reduce our desire to know you and your family.”

“It is not surprising you have heard of the situation already. This is a small and unvarying community where very little of note occurs. You can imagine the excitement the whole situation generated,” Bennet related. “As my mother has said, regardless of how it happened, I have been blessed with a daughter, one who I will love and protect for as long as I am able before some man steals her away, one day far in the future.”

“It is admirable that you do not take the sins of the mother out on her daughter,” Becca remarked.

“Are we not all deserving of a chance to show who we are and not be blamed for that over which we had no control?” Bennet posed. “I am Jane’s father and will be until I draw my final breath in the mortal world.”

The man exuded intelligence, and Becca was impressed by his answers, especially his attitude towards his innocent daughter. The arrival of tea ended conversation for a short time.

Mrs Devon prepared his cup to his specifications, handing it to Bennet along with a plate with some treats he had selected from the abundance before him. Based on the tea service and the variety of treats, Bennet’s opinion that they were from the upper levels of society and reasonably wealthy was reinforced. Once everyone had enjoyed their tea and treats, Mrs Devon rang, and two maids and a footman came to remove the tea service.

“I am glad to see you are restoring Netherfield Park to what it should be. I am afraid the previous owner was distracted by his primary property and did not dedicate resources needed for this estate.”

Devon inclined his head at the compliment.

Bennet added, “The other area he neglected was his library; I hope you will restore it as well. I know it is not my concern, but I am a bibliophile.”

“So am I,” Becca blurted out before she could stop herself. “Papa is allowing me to restock the library. If you can point me to a good bookshop I would appreciate it. It will be some time until we are in London and have access to the shops there.”

“It would be my pleasure, Miss Devon. Between my late father and myself, we have several duplicates in my library. When your family calls on us, you are welcome to peruse the tomes,” Bennet stated keenly. He saw that he had reached the end of the time for a polite call and stood. “I hope I will have the pleasure of introducing you to my mother and to my daughter, if she is awake, at Longbourn soon.” Bows and curtsies were exchanged as Bennet prepared to leave.

Devon escorted his guest out. After Bennet retrieved his accoutrements, the two men walked out onto the veranda. “A good-looking stallion you have there,” Devon noted.

“Plato was my late father’s mount. He does very well for me too,” Bennet explained.

The two men shook hands. Devon waited until Bennet had mounted and turned his horse towards the gateposts. “Estimable fellow that,” he said when he returned to the drawing room. He turned to his eldest daughter. “His horse is named Plato. I have a feeling he is one who enjoys the Greek classics like you.

“When will we call on the Bennets?” Becca enquired nonchalantly. Was it silly that on so short an acquaintance she had felt a spark? She hoped to come to know Mr Bennet better, to discover who he really was.

“On Monday or Tuesday coming,” Mrs Devon stated.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Beth Bennet was looking forward to meeting the Devons after Thomas’s report upon his return from Netherfield Park. Based on hearing that Mrs Devon had a son only slightly younger than Thomas, Beth guessed she and Netherfield Park’s mistress were of a similar age. She was looking forward to possibly making a new friend in the neighbourhood. Unlike Thomas, who was a little more reticent, Beth enjoyed socialising.

Her curiosity was satisfied on Monday morning when the Devons were announced soon after the accepted hour for calls arrived. “Bennet, will you introduce us to your mother?” Devon requested once Hill had announced them.

Bennet did as was asked, and once everyone had taken seats, Beth rang for tea. It was not many minutes after the tea service was cleared away that the two matrons were seated on a settee getting to know one another. Devon and Bennet were speaking of the autumn harvest, and the sisters were speaking quietly to one another.

“Mr Bennet, you mentioned your library,” Becca reminded him during a break in the conversation between the two fathers.

“Indeed I did. If your father will join us, I will happily show you the collection. I do not have a formal library as you do at Netherfield Park; my books are in my study,” Bennet responded.

Becca looked at her father with an arched eyebrow. “As long as the Bennets do not object to our presence beyond fifteen minutes, I will join you,” Devon agreed.

“Please do not stand on ceremony with us,” Beth interjected. “Besides, it will give me more time to get to know your wife. Unless you need to be somewhere at a specific time, please remain as long as you need. I know how Thomas gets when he discovers a fellow lover of the written word. Jane may wake, and you will be able to meet her as well.”

Devon looked to his wife. “We have no prior engagements, you and Becca, and I dare say, Connie, too, will enjoy your time in the library,” Mrs Devon agreed.

The youngest Devon nodded her agreement enthusiastically,

Bennet stood and led Devon and his daughters to his study. The three guests stood and took in the sight which met them on entering Bennet’s domain. It was not a small room, but also not the largest one they had ever seen either. Except for where the door, windows, and fireplace were, there was no other open space as the walls had floor-to-ceiling bookcases. If there were not enough books on the shelves, there were three or four piles of books on the floor.

The two windows, which had a settee just in front of them, looked out onto the small park, which, besides the flower beds, had several large old oaks, all verdant.

“The piles on the floor are duplicates of tomes which are found on the shelves. You are welcome to any of them for your library, and if any of you would like to borrow a book from the shelves, please help yourselves. The only ones which do not leave my study are the first editions of four of Shakespeare’s plays, and the ancient copies of The Iliad and The Odyssey there.” Bennet pointed to a shelf behind his desk. “It is in the original Greek.”

“May I read from it?” Becca indicated the tome in Greek.

“You read Greek?” Bennet’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was already fascinated by Miss Devon. Discovering that she was able to read Greek only added to her winning qualities .

She nodded, her eyebrow arching in challenge.

“If we have the time,” Bennet looked at Devon, who was searching through a pile of duplicates with Miss Constance. When Devon nodded his head, Bennet said, “In that case, I will retrieve it from its shelf.”

As he always did, Bennet took the book down with great care and placed it on his desk near the two chairs in front of it.

Becca sat and opened the cover reverently. Once she had examined the pages just inside the cover, she gently found the start of book twelve of The Iliad , began to read the Greek, and translated perfectly into English.

Bennet was enthralled by the woman. She could read Greek better than many of his classmates who had been with him at Cambridge. “If the question is not too intrusive, how is it that you are so proficient in Greek, Miss Devon?” Bennet enquired.

Devon answered for his daughter, “My daughters were indulged in any interests they had, over and above the normal education given to ladies. I would employ masters. Sometimes it was a passing fancy, but for others, like Latin and Greek for Becca, it was a very serious desire to learn,” Devon explained.

“ You speak Latin as well? ” Bennet asked in that tongue.

“ I do, but my reading and writing are better than my speaking ,” Becca replied in Latin.

“You could have fooled me. Your spoken Latin is fluent and is better than many men who I have heard attempt to speak it while at Cambridge. The ones I refer to just ended up butchering the language,” Bennet stated as he shook his head. She was magnificent.

“Why, thank you, Mr Bennet,” Becca blushed at the compliment. “I see Gulliver’s Travels on the shelf,” she gestured to it with her head. “It is one of my favourites, so if I may borrow it, I would be most grateful.” She knew she needed to move the conversation along, as she was sure Mr Bennet had noticed her reaction to his words. What was happening to her? She was no debutante nor silly schoolgirl new to society. She had been out for four years and never had a man sparked her interest the way Mr Bennet had.

“It is one of my favourites as well. I have read all of Jonathan Swift’s books. But of course you may borrow it.” Bennet stepped over to the shelf in question, retrieved the book, and handed it to Miss Devon.

Their fingers touched when he handed her the book; both felt a pleasurable shock from the contact, and neither pulled his or her hand away immediately.

“Bennet, Connie and I would like to take you up on your offer and remove these from the duplicate piles to Netherfield Park,” Devon indicated a dozen books on the settee. Becca is free to see if she wants any more, but I think it is time for us to depart; we have taken up enough of your time today.”

“It would please me greatly that those books will be used once again. Your visit has been no imposition, but perhaps you are correct; we should join Mrs Devon and my mother in the drawing room,” Bennet agreed.

Never before had he felt anything like he was beginning to feel for Miss Devon, and quite frankly, it frightened Bennet. No one could make a meaningful connection so quickly—could they? He waited for the Devon sisters and their father to exit the study before he followed.

When those who had been in the study entered the drawing room, they saw two smiling ladies looking at the little bundle in Beth Bennet’s arms. Evidently the two mothers were getting along famously. That was proved when they addressed one another.

“Beth, she is such a sweet baby. Mayhap when she is a little older she will be a little more rambunctious, like all three of mine were,” Mrs Devon said.

“You may be correct, Anna. So far, Jane is a very calm babe. My Thomas was similar at the same stage. Unlike you, I was only blessed with one child,” Beth replied. It was then she noticed the four who entered the room. “Come meet little Janey before Nurse takes her back to her cradle.”

Everyone agreed that the babe, who was less than a fortnight old, was a serene and pretty girl. “May I hold her?” Becca requested.

“Of course you may, just remember to support her head,” Beth allowed.

Bennet was fascinated as he watched Miss Devon hold and coo to his daughter. It just looked right. He shook his head and reminded himself it was far too soon to be thinking along those lines.

Mrs Devon stood, and her eldest daughter, somewhat reluctantly, handed the little mite to her nurse.

The Devons took their leave, but not before inviting the Bennets for dinner at Netherfield Park two days hence. The invitation was accepted with alacrity. As Devon had done with him at his estate, Bennet walked the guests out to their carriage. He handed all three ladies in. When it was time to do the honours for Miss Devon, his hand had lingered, and just like in the study, she had not withdrawn her now gloved hand.

“Thomas, are you attracted to Miss Devon?” Beth enquired when her son returned to the drawing room.

“It is so soon, but yes, Mother, I believe I am. Why do you ask?”

“Both Anna and I noticed the way your eyes sought each other out when you thought no one was paying attention. Miss Devon seems to light up when you address her; and your attention is fixed on her more often than not. But as you correctly said, you have only just met and hardly know one another, Thomas. Please take your time. There is no hurry, especially after Fanny. If it is meant to be, it will be.”

“Mother, that is sound advice. I will make sure I discover much more about her, and likewise that she comes to know the true me.”

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Becca was summoned to meet with her parents in their private sitting room. She was asked to sit. “Becca, dearest, both your father and I have taken note that you seem to be attracted to Mr Bennet,” Mrs Devon began.

“Are you worried because he is not of the Ton , and only a country squire?” Becca wondered. She caught herself before she said more along those lines. She knew her parents did not judge based on the arbitrary and superficial criteria so many in society used. She shook her head before she proceeded. “I will admit to a certain attraction, but it is far too soon to say more than that. If there is interest on his side, we can be certain it has nothing to do with my being the daughter of a duke, our wealth, or connections.”

“He is a gentleman, and that is enough for us,” Devon assured his daughter. “From my brief observation, your mind is the most attractive thing to him. You did not see the way he reacted when you read Greek, translated it flawlessly, and then spoke in Latin. I am going to have him investigated.” Devon raised his hand to quell the protest his daughter was about to unleash. “It is the same I would do with any man who catches your interest, and when the time comes, it will be the same for any man who shows serious interest in Connie. I am sure I will discover nothing more than we already know, but as your father, I cannot do less.”

“You already know we do not judge him for not mourning the wife he was forced to marry,” Mrs Devon reminded her daughter. “It is to his credit he will not act hypocritically just to satisfy the mores of society. All your father and I ask is to get to know him, and allow him to know you. There is no hurry, and you will have as much time as you need to decide one way or the other. Your father and I have decided we will remain in Hertfordshire for as long as is needed.”

“There is nothing unreasonable in what you have both said. I have a feeling he is the man for me, but time will tell,” Becca responded.

Neither parent missed the dreamy look in her eyes when she spoke of him.