Chapter 21
Bennet walked to the door of the front parlor rather nervously. He was on the verge of doing something drastically different from anything he had ever imagined himself doing. He paused just before opening the door.
Was he truly making the best choice?
There was no question but that he wanted it for himself, but was it best for his daughters? Was it poor timing? After all, it had only been four months since his wife died.
He paused for a moment. What he was about to do could be seen as disrespectful to her. Would she approve while looking down on him from wherever she was, or would she still be hurling criticisms or complaints at his head.
Bennet shook his head. He had already thought this through. He had put it off as long as he could. Now was the time to act, to find out if the one thing he had wanted most in two decades was even possible.
He opened the door. All four of his unmarried daughters were there, each dressed in elegant black gowns, their attention mostly on whatever lay in their hands.
Jane was working on embroidering a ribbon.
Elizabeth was reading a novel, while Mary was reading a rather heavy tome.
Lydia was sketching Mrs. Jamison’s face to practice her drawing.
It was a scene of tranquility that he could not have imagined just a few months ago.
Bennet said, “I do apologize for interrupting, but I wonder if I might have a word with Lady Esther in my bookroom.”
Without a word but with her usual grace, the Lady rose to her feet.
Most of his daughters and Mrs. Jamison spared him barely a glance.
Asking to consult with Lady Esther was hardly unusual after all.
Mary, however, watched as Lady Esther walked toward the door.
Bennet could not read her expression, but he wasn’t trying overmuch.
His attention was focused on the Lady walking toward him.
When they entered the bookroom, Bennet did not take his customary chair behind his desk.
Rather he pulled over the chair that normally sat by the window and placed it so that he was facing Lady Esther with very little space between them.
She watched him do so with a single eyebrow slightly raised in question, but she still said nothing.
He suspected very strongly that she knew what he was about to say. All the signs were there, had been there for months.
“Lady Esther,” he said as his nervousness climbed even higher. “I wish to ask you to marry me.”
There was a glint of pleasure in her eyes, which gave Bennet courage, though she did not smile.
“Oh? And why should I do that?” she asked. It was not a refusal, merely a request for more information. Bennet was quite familiar with the Lady’s way of doing this. In fact, it was one of the things he most admired in her.
The way she was always willing to talk things through, explaining her reasons, listening to his reasons, was a stark contrast to the behavior of the lady he had been married to for nearly twenty-three years.
“From the moment I first saw you, I have admired your beauty,” he said, “but that is not why I am asking. It is your placidity, tempered by wisdom and a strong will, which originally raised my interest. Over the last few months since you have been a companion to my daughters and an advisor to me, I have come to respect you greatly. Your beauty combined with my admiration and respect for all that you are have created passions in me that I have not felt in many years.”
“I thank you for the compliments,” she said.
“That explains why you wish to marry me, but it does not explain why I should accept. From an objective standpoint, I stand to gain nothing from such an arrangement. I would lose my title of dowager and all the accompanying status, and I would gain nothing in return. As I am now, I am almost mother to your daughters, and until recently I was nearly mistress of your home. It is only in the last month that Jane has begun to take over in that position. Now tell me. Why should I give up my title?”
Her words were harsh and bald, but Bennet was not deterred.
Her words were frequently so. The true answer lay in her eyes which twinkled with humor and shone with pleasure despite the fact that she still did not smile.
It was an expression that he had seen hints of over the last couple of months as they had exchanged a few flirtatious glances and a heated look or two.
Emboldened by what he saw, Bennet took Lady Esther’s hands in his, and she allowed it. He rose from his chair, pulling her with him, and she allowed it. He leaned toward her, and the twinkle in her eyes turned to heat.
He needed no further permission.
Bennet kissed Lady Esther.
She was no shrinking miss, innocent to the ways of men and women. She kissed him back, meeting his passion and adding to it. For a few blissful moments, Bennet forgot his purpose as he lost himself in feelings he had not experienced in fifteen years or more.
Eventually, reality intruded, and he pulled back just enough to look at her. “That is why you should say yes, Esther. Please do, for both our sakes.”
She smiled. It was a rare sight and all the more beautiful for its rarity.
“Yes, Thomas,” she said with a slightly breathy voice. “It would give me great pleasure to marry you.”
He kissed her again, and this time it took much longer for him to come to his senses.
~~~~~
Sometime later, Bennet and Lady Esther re-entered the parlor where four of his daughters and Mrs. Jamison were still sitting.
Once Bennet had everyone’s attention, he said, “I want to inform you all that Lady Esther and I are engaged.”
The reactions were precisely as he imagined. Lydia squealed in delight, leaping up to hug the Lady who would soon be her mother. Jane smiled, and Elizabeth grinned, both offering their enthusiastic congratulations. Mary, too, offered her congratulations, but her expression was inscrutable.
“Have you decided on a wedding date?” asked Mary.
“We will marry in two weeks,” said Lady Esther.
“Do you not think that too soon?” Mary’s attention was completely on Bennet now. “We are still in mourning, are we not?”
Bennet could not remember a time when Mary came so close to criticizing his actions directly. She was usually a model of obedience, strictly following the commandment to honor her parents. Given his surprise, he did not know how to respond.
It was Lady Esther who stepped in. “Come, Mary. Surely you can see why a short engagement would be wise, given that I am already living under the same roof as Mr. Bennet.”
“I suppose I can see that,” said Mary, though she did not seem mollified in the least. “What I cannot understand is why you would propose marriage to someone else so soon after Mama’s passing.” Her attention was once again fixed on Bennet.
There was a moment of silence while Bennet attempted to gather his thoughts. How could he explain to his innocent daughters that the temptation of a Lady such as Esther was too much to resist when he encountered her daily, sometimes hourly, in his own home?
Before he could speak, however, Mary had gone from stern to angry. “Papa, I cannot accept this. You never respected Mama when she was alive, and you cannot even bring yourself to pretend to respect a decent mourning period for her. I withdraw my congratulations.”
Silence filled the once peaceful room as every pair of eyes was fixed on Mary. Such a speech from her was the equivalent of the absolute worst of Lydia’s tantrums.
“Mary…” Lady Esther began, but she was not given the chance to explain or mollify.
“No!” said Mary as strongly as she could. “I will not listen to anything that comes from you. Nor will I look upon you as my mother. Not until I have completed mourning my real mother.”
Before anyone could respond, Mary walked out of the room. Moments later, the sounds of the piano drifted through the house from the music room down the hall.
“That was unexpected,” said Lydia, breaking the silence and forcing everyone out of their shock.
“Such an understatement,” said Bennet. After a moment’s thought, he turned to Esther and said, “She has a valid point. Perhaps we should wait until November.”
“You know we cannot do that, Thomas,” said Esther, gently. “We’ve talked all of this through, and even though Mary’s behavior, while unexpected, is certainly understandable, you know that we cannot put off this marriage that long.”
Bennet looked at his future bride. There was firmness in her expression, but the passion they had shared only minutes ago still lingered in her eyes.
He reached forward and brushed her cheek with his fingertip.
“You are correct,” he said. “Still, I do hate to move forward when one of my daughters objects so vehemently.”
“Oh, don’t worry about Mary,” said Lydia. “She’s always so dour, and she takes everything so seriously.”
Bennet couldn’t prevent the corner of his lip from turning up in a slight sardonic smile.
It was a relief to see that his youngest daughter hadn’t completely transformed and reformed all of her less than sensible behavior.
She was still prone to occasionally saying exactly what she was thinking, which wasn’t always completely charitable.
Esther said with mild sharpness, “Lydia, that is unkind. You know better than to speak such thoughts aloud. Doing so reflects worse upon you than it does upon the person you are criticizing.”
Lydia accepted the rebuke, though she didn’t say anything more. Instead, she returned to her seat.
“Perhaps I should go speak with her,” said Jane.
“If you like,” said Bennet. “I don’t think it will make much difference, but it can’t hurt either.”
Jane immediately rose and exited the room while Bennet and Esther settled in for a long conversation about plans and explanations. Several minutes later, Jane returned, though her expression indicated she was not pleased with the results.
“I’m afraid Mary is quite adamant about completing her mourning period for Mama,” said Jane.
“I told her it would be inappropriate to continue to mourn after the wedding, since it would show disrespect to you both, but she insists that she will not return to normal clothing until she has shown her mother all the respect she deserves.”
“She may do as she feels she must,” said Esther.
“It will not bother me in the slightest. As far as I am concerned, her strong respect for her mother does her credit. Not that any of you girls are more or less correct in your acceptance of the situation. It is tricky, and there is no single correct answer.”
“I suppose you are right, Lady Esther,” said Elizabeth. “For myself, however, I will say that I am truly glad you will be joining the family.”
This declaration was greeted with warm affirmations from both Jane and Lydia.
“Well, now that that’s settled,” said Bennet, “what do you say to planning a short shopping trip to London for some wedding clothes?”
This suggestion was met with overwhelming pleasure. The very next morning, Bennet, Esther, and three of his daughters boarded the barouche to make their way to London. Mary had elected to stay behind with Mrs. Jamison for company.