Page 30 of The Talented Daughters of Longbourn

The Meryton Churchyard

The Next Morning

Silence reigned over the modest churchyard.

No wind blew to rattle bare branches or stir the sullen clouds, no frost as yet crunched on the grass underfoot.

It was a bleak and chill day, but at least the ground was not thus far frozen; the grim business of burial could proceed apace, without having to wait for spring.

The church door opened, and the small group of men turned toward the building, shivering as they stood a few feet away from the gaping pit in the graveyard.

Josiah Bennet, Edward Gardiner, Sir William Lucas, and Isaac Turnball, solemn and sorrowful, stepped in the direction of the empty grave.

The pallbearers, handpicked by Josiah from among the servants and tenants of Longbourn for their strength, picked their way across the brown dead grass and cold dirt to lower the coffin carefully into the hole.

This accomplished, the six men stepped back to allow the new Master of Longbourn and his fellow gentry to be closer to the gravesite .

Mr. Allen, his face somber, knelt down and chose a clump of dirt, which he tossed onto the coffin. He straightened and spoke the words of committal.

“ In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our brother Mr. 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, the Lord lift up his countenance upon him and give him peace. Amen. ”

“Amen,” the other men murmured, and one by one, starting with Josiah, they threw a handful of dirt onto the coffin before leaving quietly. The gravediggers would finish filling the hole, and Mr. Thomas Bennet of Longbourn would sleep forever within the grave.

Well, his body would. His heart, and soul, and mind, and spirit were with Christ in Heaven.

/

The Drawing Room

Longbourn

A Few Hours Later

The drawing room seemed strangely dark, with the curtains drawn closed and the small tables draped in black fabric.

Mrs. Bennet, looking appropriately somber in a day dress now dyed thoroughly black, chattered agitatedly with Mrs. Long.

Jane and Elizabeth, similarly clad, were deposed demurely nearby on a love seat pushed close to the fire, and in the corner, Mrs. Long’s two nieces were in quiet conversation with Mrs. Mary Turnball.

A tea tray steamed gently on the small table, a plate of simple biscuits half-empty.

“My dear Mrs. Bennet, may I express my sorrow at your great loss!” Mrs. Long said, sympathy writ large on her kindly face.

“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Long, you are very kind,” Fanny Bennet said, flapping her hands in her distress. “It is truly terrible.”

Mrs. Long’s face drooped in sympathy, and she said delicately, “I understand it was quite an unexpected loss?”

“Oh yes, very unexpected!” the former lady of Longbourn exclaimed.

“Mr. Bennet had been battling gout for some time, but that was nothing out of the way. There are rumors that the Prince Regent himself has gout, and I am certain none of us expect him to die soon. Oh, Mrs. Long, it is so very hard to have lost both husband and home!”

“Oh,” her guest said in surprise, “but surely Charlotte Bennet, well, I had thought that since the Lucases are such good friends of the family that…”

“Indeed, you are entirely correct, Madam,” Elizabeth replied in a clear voice. “Our Uncle and Aunt Bennet have assured us of their love and care. We will not be cast out.”

Mrs. Long relaxed and said, “Well, that is very good news!”

“I suppose it is,” Mrs. Bennet grumbled, “but I do beg you to look at it from my perspective, my dear Mrs. Long. I have been mistress of this house for five and twenty years, and now I am to step aside in favor of my sister-in-law, Charlotte, who is a very good sort of woman, but not experienced as mistress of the estate. Indeed, the servants are quite confused, especially Cook! Charlotte has no notion of how to set a good table. This is not the time for economy or frugality; indeed, I have never been so ashamed when I think about the funeral meal only two hours ago! Not a syllabub to be seen, and the beef roast was dreadfully small…”

“Mamma,” Jane said in a warning tone. “You ought not to criticize Charlotte. ”

“Oh Jane, I am not angry, of course I am not! The poor dear simply does not know better, and naturally, given her condition, she should not be expected to manage the house. It is not easy for me, of course it is not, given my loss, but I know that I have a responsibility to you girls and Charlotte to help her as much as possible.”

The widow continued to ramble, and Elizabeth suddenly could not bear it any longer.

She cast a pleading look at Jane, who nodded and gestured for her to leave.

Elizabeth made her apologies to Mrs. Long and her nieces and fled out of the drawing room and into the front vestibule, where she put on her pelisse and gloves and hurried out toward the wilderness beyond the stables.

Her steps were not precisely ladylike, being too long and too heavy as she vented her agitation. The crisp air cooled pleasantly across her warm cheeks and fretful spirit as she strode towards the trees.

The situation at Longbourn was untenable.

It was rapidly becoming apparent that her mother would have to move to London, as her refusal to make way for the new mistress of Longbourn was intolerable.

Elizabeth knew that her Uncle Josiah would not permit Fanny Bennet to pester and harass his wife, especially not with the baby due so soon.

She did not think she would mind going to stay in London for a season.

She dearly loved the home of her birth and would miss her wilderness walks, but the old familiar rooms were all painful now.

Everywhere she looked were reminders of her father; she could not escape them, inside or out.

Memories would rise unbidden, waspish remarks at the dinner table and chess games in the sitting room and reading together in the library and neglect of the estate outside and unchecked histrionics from her mother in the drawing room.

She was angry. They were not left impoverished, but this was due only to her and Jane’s income.

Their father, indolent as he had been, had not bothered to either set aside any sums for his daughters or check his wife’s expenditures.

But she missed him fiercely. She missed his sardonic wit and his gentle affection and how he had always made time for her.

She paused on a small rise and tipped her face up towards the sky, breathing deeply of the scents of earth and musty leaves and a hint of fox.

It would not be terrible at all to live in London, especially if Jane was there as well.

The constant busyness and bustle of life in the city would cajole Mrs. Bennet into a better temperament, and they would be near the Gardiners.

It would be lovely to spend time with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and their four young children.

Elizabeth began strolling back to the house, at a much more leisurely pace than she had left it, taking the time to appreciate the path and the breeze and the traces of green in holly and yew and fir scattered about the landscape.

She would miss Hertfordshire dearly, that was certain.

She would miss Mary, and Kitty, and Lydia, so very much.

She was sorry to not be able to spend more time with her Uncle Josiah, and with Charlotte and little Samuel.

She would also miss Meryton and her neighbors.

Her thoughts drifted, rather to her surprise, to Netherfield.

She had become fond, quite without realizing it, of not only Miss Darcy, but the gentlemen residing there as well.

She greatly enjoyed keeping company with the Netherfield party; their conversation was always intelligent and interesting.

Elizabeth’s cogitations were broken by the sound, and then the sight, of a fine carriage rolling down the long driveway which led to the stables.

She was certain she recognized the vehicle as coming from Netherfield, and she found herself hurrying toward the open space where stable boys were waiting to hold the horses’ heads.

She arrived just as the carriage door opened, and Mr. Fitzwilliam stepped down, followed by Mr. Darcy, who then handed out both Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Georgiana cried out, catching sight of her standing a short distance away. “Oh, I am so very sorry about the loss of your father! ”

Elizabeth felt her eyes fill with tears, but she managed a smile. “Thank you, Miss Darcy. It is indeed agonizing, but given how very ill he was, there is some comfort that he is freed from his pain.”

“I understand entirely,” said Mr. Darcy in his deep voice. “My own father was also failing badly the last year of his life, and for all that we grieved when he left us, we were happy for him.”

“Yes, that is exactly it,” Elizabeth said. “Please, will you not come within?”

“Thank you,” Richard Fitzwilliam said, but a moment later Miss Darcy called out, “Oh, Miss Kitty! Please, allow me to express my condolences to you as well!”

Elizabeth turned to find Kitty standing in the door of the rabbits’ house. The fourth Miss Bennet was holding a large, gray, fluffy creature in her arms, which caused Mr. Darcy to raise his eyebrows in surprise, and Miss Darcy to cry out in delight. “Oh, Miss Kitty! Is that an angora rabbit?”

The creature in question was absurdly furry. Its ear-tufts drifted in the faintest breath of air, its mild eyes almost obscured by the wool of its face.

“Yes,” Kitty replied shyly, advancing a few feet closer .

“He is absolutely marvelous,” Miss Darcy gushed. “Or is it a she?”

“A she,” Kitty said, petting the animal’s soft fur. “Tulip is one of my breeding rabbits, you see.”

“And you use her fur to spin fiber?” Georgiana asked with interest, and then suddenly looked stricken. “Oh, I do apologize; to ask you curious questions at such a time!”

Elizabeth, seeing the real distress on their young guest’s face, hurried to reassure her. “Indeed, Miss Darcy, I assure you that Kitty is always ready to talk about her rabbits, and I think that she would agree that it is a relief to speak of something other than our father’s death.”

“Lizzy is right,” Kitty said immediately. “I mourn my father, of course, but being inside, thinking about it all the time … well, I came out to distract myself, and also for comfort. Tulip is such a soft, friendly animal! You may touch her if you like!”

Darcy watched with amusement as Georgiana first petted the rabbit, and then, with help from Miss Elizabeth and Miss Kitty, took the animal into her arms. Miss Kitty was obviously an expert, as she provided knowledgeable answers to Georgiana’s questions.

Mrs. Annesley, who was standing nearby, seemed caught between her duty toward her charge and enthusiasm, and Darcy remembered that his sister’s companion was rarely seen at Netherfield without a knitting basket nearby.

“I suspect that Georgiana might be requesting angora rabbits next spring at Pemberley,” Richard murmured into Darcy’s ear.

Darcy smiled at the thought and said, “If she asks for a rabbit or five, I will arrange for it.”

“Mr. Darcy, Mr. Fitzwilliam, I do hope you are not growing chilled out here,” Elizabeth said, taking a few steps closer to the two gentlemen.

Darcy found himself staring at the lady in wonder.

She was, of course, dressed in the unremitting black of deep mourning, but somehow she seemed even more beautiful in his eyes, with the black a sharp contrast to her pale skin, and a charming accompaniment to her fine brown eyes, mixed with gold specks.

“Not at all, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said, recovering enough to speak.

“I am reasonably used to the cold since Pemberley is quite a bit north, and as for my cousin, well, he is an old campaigner and accustomed to cold. But what of you? I hope my sister’s fascination with the rabbits is not keeping you from the warmth of the indoors. ”

“Not at all,” Elizabeth said immediately. “The truth is that I escaped into the wilderness over there some minutes ago. I was not prevaricating when I said that there is solace in escaping outdoors at such a time as this.”

“I understand,” Darcy said. “When my own father died, I found consolation in walking the paths of Derbyshire; it was early winter when he passed, and there was a welcome comfort in vigorous exercise in the chilled air.”

“Ah, you do understand!” Elizabeth said, her eyes lighting up. “When I am sad, it is very difficult to sit about for hours near the fire. I find it easier to mourn in the glory of God’s creation.”

She turned around at the sound of retreating feet and observed that Kitty was now guiding Miss Darcy and her companion toward the front door. “It seems that the inspection of the rabbit has completed. Do enter, sirs!”