Chapter 8 Thomas Bennet and Mr. Miles meet whilst on a long trip. #2
“I am told I shall not survive another winter. My father purchased a house in Hamilton when they were first available, and that is where we shall live.” He smiled at his wife, and she smiled back.
“I am hopeful that the warm climate and sea air will bring about some improvement, though I am told it is not likely as the damage has already been done.” Bennet’s voice became weaker during his speech, and he succumbed to a coughing fit at the end.
Mrs. Bennet assisted him with a concerned look on her face.
“I wish you well on your recovery. I hope you are able to be active once again.”
“Thank you for your concern, Miles. I must say that over the last year after the burns were healed, I have learned to entertain myself at leisure by extensive reading. I enjoy literature and poetry, and I have recently discovered the pleasures of pamphlets on new inventions. I immerse myself in books, mostly histories and treatises on science and discovery.” He wheezed again but seemed to breathe easier.
“We have that in common, as I too am fascinated by new techniques in farming and inventions with chemicals and machines. I have started a correspondence with several inventors. In fact, one is the Scot who seems to have improved upon the steam engine.”
“Ah, yes, replacing labour with fire! Fanny, can you believe that? Fire used not for warmth, but to replace a man or a horse at labour?” Bennet turned to her with a mirthful smile.
“No, sir, it seems a fool’s dream,” Mrs. Bennet whispered, lifting her lashes to him for only a second. It seemed to me that she was afraid of almost everyone other than her husband. Again, I was struck by her beauty.
“Ha!” Bennet cried at his wife’s response.
“I have convinced a gentleman of my acquaintance that he should try using the new steam engines for removing water from one of his mines,” I said.
“Well, done, Miles,” he replied. “You are far more industrious than I. My reading is solely for my own amusement. Where is this mine?”
“In Derbyshire near a place called Pemberley.”
We met in the drawing room nearly every afternoon unless Bennet’s health was poor. Mrs. Bennet seemed to become less circumspect in my presence; however, she mostly sat apart from us, attending to her work while her husband and I talked.
Bennet and I had been friends for more than a month, enjoying discussions on all manner of topics until he became ill more often and we met less frequently. When he was well enough for company, the Bennets would arrive early and await me in the drawing room. But one day I arrived ahead of them.
Bennet said they were late due to Mrs. Bennet’s illness, and I inferred from their comments that she might be with child.
I thought to offer to visit them in their chambers to save a trip to the drawing room each afternoon, but decided against it as their smaller quarters included only a bedchamber.
I resolved to find another solution to relieve Mrs. Bennet from feeling obligated to attend our daily meetings. At our next visit, I made a suggestion.
“Mrs. Bennet, it occurred to me that perhaps you would like a reprieve from the dreary conversation of gentlemen farmers. If it pleases you, madam, on the morrow, I would collect my friend from his quarters and accompany him to the drawing room, as I enjoy his company. It would leave you free to other entertainment or society of your choosing. Or, if you would like a unique diversion, may I offer you a visit to a very sweet little girl and her baby sister?”
Her eyes widened, and I could see her pleasure in the thought. She turned to her husband, and they exchanged a look. He replied, “That would be splendid.”
“There we have it. Tomorrow, I shall meet you at your cabin and assist you both to the parlour and then ensure Mrs. Bennet arrives safely to the diversion she has chosen before continuing our delightful debates.”
The next day went as planned, and Mrs. Bennet was feeling well enough to spend time with my daughters: a toddler of nearly two years and a baby of six months. I accompanied my friend to the parlour and was surprised at how he started the conversation.
“Miles, you have probably been sensible to the rapid deterioration of my lungs. On many days, I am not strong enough to walk, and there are frequent occurrences when I am unable to breathe. I am afraid that I shall leave Fanny sooner than I had expected. I would like your patience whilst I tell you a story. I feel that our friendship is such that I can trust you with this confidence.”
“You have my word as a gentleman that I shall not reveal any more than you give me leave to disclose,” I assured him.
He proceeded to tell me how Mrs. Bennet had lost her mother as a child and became the ward of the elder Bennets, cousins of her father, Mr. Gardiner.
Gardiner remarried and had two children by his second wife, who had no wish to mother the girl.
Bennet was an only child—his birth had rendered his mother barren—and his parents were overjoyed to welcome the little girl into their home and treated her as their own.
Young Bennet, 11 years her senior, was at Cambridge when she joined his family.
After university and his grand tour, he returned to help his father manage the estate.
As he had admitted, he was fonder of books and would have been better suited to stay at school.
However, he enjoyed the company of the young Miss Gardiner, and they became as close as brother and sister.
The previous year, there had been a terrible fire at their home and Bennet was badly hurt rescuing Miss Gardiner.
His parents were not able to escape and perished in the inferno.
Bennet had such injuries that he was not expected to live beyond a few days, but his young cousin nursed him as he recovered from painful burns and injured lungs.
Bennet was advised to move immediately to a warm climate to continue his recovery.
The estate was in debt and, due to Bennet’s inability to manage it during his illness, fell into disrepair.
He decided to sell most of the unentailed land holdings in order to repay the debts incurred by his father, and added the resulting profits to Miss Gardiner’s fortune.
He convinced the girl to come out into society when she was barely 17 years of age so that, once she married, he would be assured she was protected and he could move to the house his father had purchased in Bermuda.
He arranged for a ball in March for her introduction to society.
He had great hopes for her match as she was a handsome woman (as I had seen for myself) with a lively personality (this I had not seen).
Although her father was a solicitor, Bennet hoped that her connection to his family would help her attract a gentleman.
Several of their acquaintance were good prospects.
However, at her coming out ball, she was “seduced” by a peer.
Mortified about the potential for exposure of her disgrace, Miss Gardiner begged Bennet to keep the attack a secret.
His health left him powerless to exact vengeance on the man.
When they found she was with child, Bennet married her quickly to preserve her reputation and the honour of his family.
They left for Bermuda at the next sailing, hoping the length of the trip and distance from England would disguise the child’s conception prior to their marriage.
Their union was one of convenience, and their relationship remained as brother and sister.
It took Bennet a long time to tell the story as he frequently broke into wet coughing fits.
By the end, his voice was just a whisper, but he continued to speak.
“Miles, I fear I shall not be long for this earth. I know it might be a great burden, but I would be grateful if you could care for Fanny’s interests when I pass.
You are a good man, and both Fanny and I trust you.
She will not be destitute; she will inherit all I have.
She should be able to make a good marriage, but until then, I want to know that she and the child will not be friendless. ”
I could not speak for a long time. It was not the unusual request that bothered me; I had grown fond of the girl in spite of her shyness.
In fact, I was quite physically attracted to her.
But it was the attack on Mrs. Bennet’s virtue that angered and silenced me.
It brought up horrid memories of how broken my own wife had looked before she was mercifully taken to heaven.
Also, the date of the attack on Mrs. Bennet was close to the one that had taken my wife.
It was unthinkable that both Bennet and I could have our wives imposed upon so cruelly.
I was truly pained. Then a worse possibility dawned on me: this may be no coincidence.
A gentleman’s home, a gentleman’s ball, this libertine, this scoundrel was fearless enough to attempt to violate a woman so boldly when he knew that she was protected!
I turned cold and could barely breathe but managed to ask, “Do you know the man who violated her?” My voice came out nearly as raspy and quiet as Bennet’s.
“Yes, and he was the worst kind of man. She was not the only one he defiled. We heard of others—shop girls and servants—not just in Gloucestershire but other counties as well.”
He noticed my growing concern and tried to placate me. “Do not worry yourself, my friend. He can do no more damage. He attacked a peer’s wife, and her husband called him out. The bastard is in hell now.” He spat out the last sentence in his whisper of a voice.
I was sweating, panting, pacing. I could not think. He could see that my agitation had only grown worse as he revealed the villain’s demise. I could not disguise my impatience to know more.
“Bennet, his name,” I managed to choke out.
“Ernest Grant, Marquess of Malcolm.”
I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hand while I tried to control my emotions. Then I leaned forward, placed my hands flat on the table and looked my friend in the eye.
“That lady was my wife. She did not recover from the cruelties Malcolm inflicted upon her. I am the one he duelled. I am Miles Lydon, Earl of Shelton, and I am fleeing charges for the murder of Lord Malcolm.”