Chapter 4
During the next month Thomas reacquainted himself with the estate that was his birthright.
He explored the park and learned about tree planting and the cutting of firewood.
He spoke with tenant farmers on crop rotation.
With the steward he went through the accounts.
This work was not undertaken in haste: his father’s health was not so precarious.
But their conversation had left its mark.
One sad day his father would pass away and Thomas would become master of Longbourn—unless, of course, Matthew Collins’s prayers were answered and the Bennet line ran out.
Except for this project Thomas was alone—a condition that had never troubled him.
He liked walking in the countryside; he corresponded with friends; he read.
But he was not averse to society. In his mind the world had two sorts of people, sensible and silly, the former interesting, the latter amusing.
John Bennet had few callers, but in late November a ball was held at Meryton Assembly Rooms, and Thomas decided to attend.
Out came his best waistcoat, his hair was trimmed and powdered, and he ventured forth; his father, too weary, remained at home.
Entering the hall, Thomas looked for his closest friend in Meryton, Edward Gardiner, whom he chanced on occasionally in the bookshop.
The Gardiners had a family law business, run by the father, who expected that his only son would one day step into his shoes.
Edward’s older sister Honoria was married to a former apprentice named Phillips; the younger, Fanny, might be out by now: Thomas recalled her as a pretty girl with plenty to say for herself.
After glimpsing Mr Gardiner senior, Thomas was about to cross the room when a vibrant voice called him back.
‘Mr Bennet! I say, well met!’
He turned to see William Lucas, a businessman always eager to ingratiate himself with the gentry. In his thirties, Lucas looked older, a grey wig with side curls giving him a premature gravitas.
‘Mr Lucas. How are you? And Mrs Lucas?’
‘At home.’ Lucas lowered his voice. ‘We’re awaiting an addition to the family. A brother, we hope, for little Charlotte.’
‘Congratulations. I pray all goes well.’
‘Much appreciated. Have you a moment?’
Thomas, who had been edging away, saw no civil means of escape.
Lucas was a man intent on improving his status in society.
He had a business in timber inherited from his father, and had expanded into construction of houses and farm buildings.
He had also entered local government and risen to the position of mayor.
In John Bennet’s view, and Thomas’s too, he was honest and well-meaning.
But he did take a long time to come to the point.
‘The dancing may begin soon,’ Thomas said.
‘Then I’ll be brief. His majesty King George is visiting Hertfordshire next year and will stop at Meryton. I head a committee to organise the reception, and would be honoured if your father took part.’
Thomas hesitated. ‘He has been, ah, poorly of late.’
‘Exceedingly sorry to hear that. Might you attend on his behalf? Or do I ask too much?’
‘I will discuss it with him and let you know.’
An elaborate bow, and Lucas went on his way. Thomas crossed to the Gardiners, and found Edward hovering near his sisters, surveying the new arrivals.
‘Thomas!’ Edward came to join him. ‘Haven’t seen you for months! I thought you were away on one of your trips.’
‘You look well.’
‘In good health, but bored all day long. I was hoping to engage Evelina Bates for the Miss Cooper’s Fancy.’
‘I haven’t seen her.’
‘Lovely girl, but I fear she has eyes only for Robinson. What a waste!’
‘You can’t blame her. The Robinsons have a decent estate, even if it’s a bit remote.’
‘No larger than Longbourn. Why don’t you go after her? Or have you a sweetheart in Oxford?’
Thomas smiled, enjoying his friend’s directness. ‘Not much luck in that department. I meet eager young ladies, some pretty, some clever. But the pretty ones are invariably not clever, and the clever ones …’ He shrugged.
‘What do you expect?’ Edward laughed. ‘I compute it thus. Odds of finding beauty, one in ten. Same for brains. Ergo, odds of beauty and brains combined, one in a hundred.’
‘And if we add kindness?’
‘One in a thousand. Forget it.’
‘Is that why you’re bored all day long?’
Edward looked round at his father, then drew Thomas away.
‘Between ourselves, it’s the office. To be a solicitor you have to train for seven years as an apprentice—unless you can afford university.
I’ve done three years of graft and don’t think I can stand it much longer.
’ He moved closer. ‘But next month is my twenty-first birthday …’
‘Ah.’ Thomas spoke quietly. ‘A difficult situation.’
‘Father will go through the roof.’
‘Phillips could take over.’
‘With alacrity.’ Edward sighed. ‘I fear I’m only dreaming.’
‘Isn’t there some aspect of the work that appeals to you?’
‘Company law. Trade. You see, what I like is business. Buying and selling real things like furniture and clothes and jewellery. Not writing long documents in antiquated language nobody understands.’ Edward perked up. ‘There she is! The lovely Evelina.’
‘But does she have brains?’
‘Enough for my purposes.’
Edward moved off to address a girl with auburn ringlets and white feathers, seated demurely beside an older lady, presumably her mother.
Thomas admired his friend’s enterprise, and wondered whether he had any chance of success.
On the positive side Edward was handsome and intelligent.
But perhaps Evelina Bates was more interested in Robinson’s ￡2500 a year.
Seeking a partner for the first set Thomas spotted William and Margaret Goulding, whose father owned Haye-Park.
He had danced with Miss Goulding before, and thought her attractive; the trouble was that she was prone to complain.
The hall was too full, the musicians out of tune, the company undistinguished.
He found himself agreeing with most of these sentiments, while wishing she would keep them to herself.
Miss Cooper’s Fancy was danced longways, and moving down the line Thomas saw Fanny Gardiner with the awkward second son of the Harringtons.
Their eyes met, she grinned, and he was struck by her uninhibited enjoyment: where Miss Goulding would have lamented such a clumsy partner, the young Miss Gardiner looked determined to have fun; she had also filled out and become uncommonly alluring.
In fact, surveying the hall, he did not see any lady to match her, Evelina Bates being the only possible rival.
He found Edward afterwards, seated alone after being too late to bag the popular Miss Bates.
‘Why not ask someone else?’ Thomas said.
‘Later.’ Edward grimaced. ‘How was Miss Goulding?’
‘Charming but hard to please.’ Thomas sat down. ‘Your sister is looking well tonight.’
‘Fanny loves dancing.’ Edward leaned across confidentially. ‘Especially with officers. She was inconsolable when Colonel Millar decamped in the summer.’
Thomas watched Miss Gardiner in animated conversation with her sister. ‘Shall I ask her for the Cotillion? I can hardly do worse than her last partner.’
‘She’d be delighted.’
‘You should dance too, Edward. Forget Miss Bates.’
‘I could try to put a smile on Margaret Goulding’s face,’ Edward said wryly. ‘A man needs a challenge.’
Miss Gardiner was engaged for the Cotillion and the next two dances as well, but free for the supper set.
Her simple pleasure as they performed the steps was endearing, and reminded Thomas of being really young, changing year by year, excited as one’s possibilities expanded.
Just 17 years old, she remained in part a child, her mind unformed, while very much a woman in appearance, with variegated blonde hair that he found fascinating, button nose, and full lips; her expression was not exactly intelligent but animated, vital, suggesting strong emotions.
Her figure was exquisite: she walked and danced with a proud posture showing herself to full advantage.
At supper Fanny Gardiner seemed a little in awe of him, and to draw her out he asked how she spent her time.
‘I like adapting my dresses.’ She pointed at her gown. ‘I took up the waist, and added the flounces.’
‘Neatly done.’ He smiled. ‘Do you read?’
‘I leave books to Edward.’ She paused. ‘I like to pay social calls.’
‘I fear I am remiss in that regard.’
She studied him. ‘You dislike society?’
‘Not at all.’ He smiled. ‘Perhaps I am merely lazy.’
‘You are too modest, sir, and I don’t believe you for a moment. For myself, I find it impossible to be idle, for my head is always full of ideas.’
‘On what topic?’
‘Oh, places to visit, new clothes, improvements to the house and garden.’
‘Do you play and sing?’
‘I am too busy doing other things.’ She looked round the table. ‘Is it not fascinating to observe people at a ball? Mr Robinson and Miss Bates for instance.’
‘You study human nature?’
Miss Gardiner leaned over and whispered. ‘Miss Bates set her sights on Mr Robinson in April and flirted with the officers to make him jealous.’
‘And what is she doing now?’
‘Feeling pleased with herself. He is besotted, do you not see?’
Thomas smiled. ‘I fear my sex is outmatched, Miss Gardiner. You bend us to your will as a potter shapes his clay.’
She blushed. ‘A respectable and learned gentleman like yourself knows his own mind, sir.’
‘I am safe then.’
She paused. ‘Tell me about Longbourn. It is a most delightful estate, I have heard.’
Returning after the ball, Thomas retained an image of Fanny Gardiner’s lovely face and figure, both animated by a youthful vitality that reawakened his faith that life could be joyous and full of possibility.
He wondered what his father would make of her.
The family was respectable, not rich or prestigious.
She was deficient in education and accomplishment.
But one could not have everything, and in some ways he and Fanny were a good match.
He possessed enough erudition for both of them, but was idle, unsociable, and vague what he wanted from life—as his father had said, a dabbler.
Miss Gardiner instead had energy and clear practical goals; she also threw herself into society rather than remaining aloof.
Thomas imagined what married life might be like.
A beautiful woman would move into Longbourn, brightening his father’s life as well as his own.
The sombre corridors would resound to the happy cries of children, including the all-important heir.
They could relax in the knowledge that Matthew Collins or his son would never capture the estate.
Was it better to wait? Might he one day find love, a true soulmate? But he had searched five years (not too energetically, he had to admit) while visiting friends, and the neighbourhood offered no appealing alternative. He thought of Margaret Goulding, and winced.
It would do no harm to call on the Gardiners and invite Edward and Fanny to dine at Longbourn …
John Bennet had retired. Thomas poured a brandy and sank into an armchair, his mind still abuzz.