Chapter 20 #2
When a sobbing Lydia entered his study sans her mother, Bennet suspected Fanny had finally crossed a line from which she would not be able to retreat. He gave Lydia a thimbleful of brandy to calm her enough for her to relate what happened.
He had been correct in his supposition about the identity of the new owner of Netherfield Park.
At a certain level, he felt some guilt over the position of acute distress in which he suspected that his wife now found herself, but at the same time he knew she could not be stopped, short of tying her down, once she set her mind to something—especially if she thought she could benefit from it.
As he tried to think logically about his wife, Bennet came to the conclusion she indeed might be insane. He did not know if such a malady always lurked under the surface, or if it built up over time to its current level. Whatever the reason, there was no way to argue with the conclusion.
He would not contravene Gardiner’s order that he not visit without a written invitation, but his brother-in-law had not forbidden him from writing a note. Bennet knew he was not the man to care for his three remaining daughters on his own, but his wife had not done such a good job of it, either.
Mary and Kitty escorted Lydia up to her bedchamber. As they walked up the stairs, the sounds of Lydia’s sobbing diminished. Bennet took a fresh piece of parchment, dipped his quill in ink, and began to write.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“Mr. Collins, why are you no longer bringing me information on the tenants and the residents of Hunsford? I need to know what they are saying about me and what their dearest concerns are.” Lady Catherine demanded from her throne as Collins grovelled before her.
“How am I to force them to speak to me, your exulted Ladyship?” Collins squeaked.
“Does your wife not do her duty and visit the parishioners in the way I instructed her?” Lady Catherine barked.
“Yes, your Ladyship. She follows your instructions to the letter. If she did not, I would punish her,” Collins bowed low again.
“And she reports what the peasants tell her?”
“She tells me they refuse to tell her anything of import, just as they refuse to do for me. I most humbly apologise, my wise and all-knowing patroness.” As was his wont, Collins deified Lady Catherine.
Although she was angry at not receiving information on her underlings, she preened at the deference the parson showed her.
“You may go, Mr. Collins. I will think of a solution and give you instructions as soon as I am ready.” Lady Catherine gave Collins a dismissive wave and he backed out of the drawing room, bowing as he went.
He was so busy genuflecting to his patroness he did not notice that Miss de Bourgh and her companion had been standing just outside the door, listening, and taking notes. He soon scurried back to the parsonage, bathed in sweat, and breathing heavily from the exertion of the short walk.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“Are you well, Eliza?” Charlotte asked. She had accompanied her father to Netherfield Park, he being the local magistrate. Sending the vile Mrs. Bennet to gaol had been a pleasure for Sir William, who generally found that particular duty distasteful.
“I am well, my friend,” Elizabeth replied without hesitation. “We knew the woman would intrude here eventually; now it is behind us.”
“Lizzy, my rule for not exercising outside on your own still stands,” Gardiner told his eldest daughter. “I would rather be safe than sorry.”
“As I promised, I will follow your rules,” Elizabeth stated.
“If Mrs. Bennet were a man, I would have called her out,” Richard interjected.
“My big brave fiancé,” Charlotte teased.
Just then Nichols cleared his throat and brought the salver to the master with a note on it.
“It is from Bennet,” Gardiner informed the assembled group.
“I never forbade him to send a note.” Gardiner turned to his wife and eldest daughter.
“Maddie and Lizzy, come with me to the study; please excuse us, everyone.”
Once the three were seated, Gardiner, with his wife on one side and daughter on the other, broke the seal. He held it so all three could read the note.
7 January 1811
Longbourn
Gardiner,
You have my apology for my wife’s affront today. Lydia informed me what happened and I must say that I agree with Lizzy’s assessment, but I will wait to hear what the doctors determine.
Of my three daughters at home, two are suffering from serious neglect. I refer to Mary and Kitty. We all know I am not the person to do it, but I believe with some loving attention, both would do very well.
The only option for Lydia would be the Phillipses. Hattie and Frank have the strength of will to deal with her, and I believe might improve her, eventually. It would be better for both, especially for Kitty, to be separated from Lydia.
If you and Phillips agree to take them, I will sign the documents relinquishing my parental rights as I did with Lizzy.
I wait to hear from you,
TB
“Unlike his wife, he is self-aware enough to know he is not a parent upon whom any child can rely,” Elizabeth stated dispassionately. She knew Mr. Bennet had placed her in the Gardiners’ loving care, but she still would not, could not, forgive him for not protecting her.
“Let us go and relax. On the morrow Phillips and Hattie will be here and we can discuss what is to be done,” Gardiner suggested. His wife and daughter agreed a night without having to consider weighty issues would be welcome.