Chapter 2
Mr. Bennet walked to the bookshelves and pulled out his copy of The History of Great Britain.
“My dear Lizzy, you have studied this history by the great David Hume, have you not? Would you hazard a guess on how our own family history is entwined with a ducal lineage to allow me, a Bennet, to inherit the Fitzstuart dukedom? From your insight into Debrett’s, you may come up with the answer with no help from me. ”
Elizabeth knew that if she appeared eager, she could count on her father dragging out the process of revealing the truth. However, she did have an idea of how she had transformed into a duke’s daughter simply by walking through the magical door to her father’s study.
“I shall attempt it, papa. You are originally a Fitzstuart. There can be no doubt about your being the legitimate heir; otherwise you could not possibly inherit the dukedom. It is also clear that our forefather was an illegitimate son of Charles II, who awarded dukedoms to all his illegitimate sons, and even two of his favorite royal mistresses. I surmise that our progenitor was a younger son in the second or third generation of the dukedom, and he changed his name to Bennet because of marriage to an heiress. And thus we are Bennets today.”
“Brava, Lizzy. You have got the gist of the matter. However, like a good novel, the fun and thrills are in the details. The father of this branch of the family was the youngest son of the first duke… Let me start from the beginning: the first Duke of Northampton was the last of the King’s large brood raised to duke but was one of the oldest of his children born on the wrong side of the blanket. ”
Elizabeth sat up straighter. This had the sound of a titillating story.
“The first duke was the result of a liaison between His Majesty and Miss Jane Roberts, the only child of Reverend Thomas Roberts, a vicar and scholar—a man of science at Oxford.
Charles II fancied himself a man of science as well, and he favored Oxford for his scientific endeavors.
Perhaps that was why he moved Parliament to Oxford after the great fire of London in 1666.
Your forefather was born in 1667 without the benefit of a legal marriage, to the great distress of the reverend, a true man of God.
Miss Roberts survived less than a week after childbirth.
When the news was brought to the King, the kind monarch provided a lump sum of three thousand pounds for the upkeep of yet another son who could not succeed him in the House of Stuart.
“Court has always been a place of enormous intrigue, but His Majesty’s official royal mistress at the time was a master of the game.
She managed to convince the King to create dukedoms for all her sons.
Well, a poor vicar with nary a connection to Court stood no chance of gaining any advantage for his grandson, whereas the King’s bastard sons by court ladies were all created dukes around 1675.
“To cut a long story short, the patriarch of our family, named Charles by his royal father, grew up in his grandfather’s household at Oxford and, by all accounts, became a studious, upright young man.
During one of the King’s visits to Oxford, young Charles accidentally ran into his father king.
He had just begun matriculating at the University.
Charles II was astounded and pleased by the young man’s looks, which were exactly like his own at that age.
As soon as he went back to London, he created the Dukedom of Northampton for this long-forgotten son and acknowledged him publicly by giving him the name of Fitzstuart.
As it turned out, this came in the nick of time.
The king died the following year, and most, if not all, of the court intrigues of his reign died with him. ”
Mr. Bennet looked over at Elizabeth and winked. “Lizzy, have you any guesses for how the name ‘Bennet’ became the name of this family?”
Many scenarios swirled in Lizzy’s head. As her father had mentioned court intrigues, she decided on the most likely possibility and answered thoughtfully, “Could it have something to do with Henry Bennet, the Earl of Arlington? He was one of the most cunning courtiers at the time. He married his only daughter to one of the king’s illegitimate sons when both were still young children.
Did he somehow find a niece to marry this newly minted duke? ”
“Brava again, Lizzy! That was precisely what happened. The matriarch of the Bennet branch was a niece of the Earl. Her family, though untitled, had vast holdings in Middlesex and our part of Hertfordshire. Her second son inherited Netherfield Park, and the youngest, your great-great-grandfather, inherited Longbourn.”
“And our great-great-grandfather abandoned his royal name for his mother’s name?”
“Not quite. Your great-grandfather was the one who made the change. I have told you girls that my grandfather was a religious zealot and, during his Oxford days, attached himself to the Wesley brothers’ ‘Holy Club.’ He dropped out of the Wesleys’ Methodist movement because he did not think the Methodists fervent enough.
It was no surprise that he despised his ancestry for being from a line born out of wedlock.
He petitioned approximately one hundred years ago to have the name Bennet added to the family name and then promptly dropped the use of the family name altogether.
By then, the current House of Hanover had inherited the throne.
No one cared about the Stuarts anymore. Even in our environs, very few, if any, remember that we were once Fitzstuarts. ”
“What about Netherfield Park, papa? It has been the property of the Morris family for several generations. What happened to the second son of the first duke, the master of Netherfield Park?”
“The older brother of your great-great-grandfather was a wastrel.
He wagered incorrectly that his sickly eldest brother would soon expire and give him the dukedom.
He had to sell much of what he owned when his brother not only lived long enough to become duke but also married and begot two sons.
In the meantime, he had accumulated a mountain of gambling debts with no hope of ever repaying.
He lost Netherfield Park to Mr. Morris in a single calamitous card game.
Your great-great-granduncle obligingly died soon after, and his children became the wards of the Duke, who gave the preferment of the living originally held by Reverend Roberts to the eldest son.
That branch of the family had lived at the old Oxford vicarage ever since until the recently deceased Duke inherited four months ago.
“The last duke summoned me to London to meet him soon after he inherited. At the time, I was rather bothered by the presence of my own heir presumptive at Longbourn. Added to that annoyance were the incessant rain and the fuss your mother raised about marrying one of you to that absurd parson. I decided I could not risk being away only to discover on my return that one of you had been coerced into accepting that ridiculous man’s offer of marriage.
Besides, your mother admonished me to accompany you girls to the all-important Netherfield ball, where she was confident a certain engagement would be announced.
I was, for a change, happy to oblige. In my reply to the duke, I arranged to meet him during the season instead. ”
“And the poor duke died during his wait to meet with you? Was he very old?”
“The duke was a young man of only six-and-twenty, which was another reason I did not accede to his request right away. I could not understand why a young man would wish so urgently to meet his heir presumptive, a man almost twice his age. I considered sending your mother in my stead so she could try to marry one of you to him.”
Elizabeth’s eyes got round again at her father’s insinuation.
“A rich tradesman’s son from the north is no match for a young duke, who was also a fellow at Oxford!
I do regret not having met him before his demise.
He appeared to be an excellent young man with great intellectual promise—an Oxford Fellow at such a young age.
If he had suggested meeting me at the University, I might have gone… but it is too late now.”
Mr. Bennet, or more appropriately, His Grace, pointed at a stack of papers on his desk.
“These documents explain that he had a wasting disease, which had already taken the lives of his older and younger brothers; he was quite ill when he wrote to me, apparently hoping to give over some of the ducal responsibilities to the heir presumptive.
“Through the years, all the Bennet sons have been told about the connection with the Northampton dukedom.
After all, just five generations ago, there was a Lord Thomas Fitzstuart at the head of this household.
However, since the third duke had twenty-three children by two wives, our branch of the family got pushed down the line of inheritance by over ten places.
Of the ten sons of the large brood, only two grew to adulthood.
The elder became the fourth duke. He obligingly refused to marry after a famous actress spurned his affection as he was nothing more than the heir apparent to a relatively poor dukedom.
She married another duke with an ancient lineage and great wealth.
The jilted Duke, however, channeled his energy into canal building after inheriting and became enormously rich, possibly wealthier than his previous rival.
“One year ago, my place in the line of inheritance advanced by two places because of a tragic fire that took the lives of the fourth duke’s nephews, his wards and heirs after his brother’s death.”
Mr. Bennet sighed and said feelingly to his daughter, “Your mother makes her own life miserable by constantly lamenting her lack of a male child. Can you imagine how the mother of the dead boys felt about the loss?”
Elizabeth felt a deep sense of sorrow at the loss of these distant cousins she had not known about. The boys’ mother must have been devastated.
“Four months ago, the fourth duke died suddenly of apoplexy. He was over sixty years of age, but had seemed physically robust and was still actively involved in his building work. Three months prior to that, the fifth duke’s younger brother had died of the same wasting disease that had killed the oldest brother five years earlier.
This disease was clearly a family curse.
The fifth duke had gone to Oxford with the specific goal of finding a cure for this disease, which he firmly believed to be hereditary.
Unfortunately, he succumbed to his illness first.”
Mr. Bennet took a long pause, much affected by the futility of life.
“And now, the dukedom has come to me, and it will end with me.”
Both father and daughter silently contemplated the irony of fate—an old man taking over a dukedom from a young man, and yet, he had no heir to continue the line.
Attempting to lighten the mood, Mr. Bennet returned to his usual sportive speech. “So, Lady Elizabeth, you have become a celebrated heiress. What will you do with this good fortune? Will you bestow it upon a certain handsome, penniless lieutenant?”
Elizabeth was startled to hear this pronouncement from her father.
Her first thought was that once the Bennets’ exalted status became known, Mr. Wickham would immediately abandon Miss King to pursue her.
Somehow, that scenario made her shudder, even though only a day earlier, she had been making excuses for Mr. Wickham’s mercenary behavior.
She sighed involuntarily.
I am a hypocrite. Mr. Wickham could be justified in chasing after other women’s fortunes, but not mine!
How large is my fortune? Can it be compared to Miss de Bourgh’s?
“Lizzy?”
Elizabeth was startled again by her father’s amused inquiry.
“Papa, you meant Mr. Wickham, did you not? He is now courting Miss King. I wish him all the best. He was never a contender for my affection.”
“I see. I am glad to hear that. He impressed me as being too smooth for his own good. He is no doubt handsome, but beauty fades after the first rush of youth, and then what will remain?”
Elizabeth knew for certain that her father was talking about his own weakness for beauty that led to a lifetime of…
what? Heartache? Regrets? Misery? Whatever it was, Elizabeth did not wish that upon herself.
But finding someone who could match her in intellectual curiosity, love of nature, disdain for the conventional values of the ton, and other such pursuits wholly incompatible with what were approved by a so-called society lady would be quite impossible.
Miss Bingley’s list of ludicrous lady’s accomplishments: painting of tables, assuming a certain air while walking…
While thinking about one member of the Netherfield party, a certain gentleman’s likeness attempted to push to the fore of her mind, but she forcefully suppressed it.
Yes, she felt stimulated and alive when she verbally sparred with the gentleman at Netherfield Park during Jane’s illness, but the man’s character made him unsuitable to be her husband—not to mention he was already married.
She also enjoyed sparring with her papa, but just the thought of marrying someone like her papa made her stomach turn.
Why do I think of him now? It is curious. Is it because I am not poor anymore?
“You are lost in your thoughts again, Lizzy. It is a lot to contemplate. Your life will be so altered that I am, in fact, worried about what could happen to you all. I cannot imagine how your mother will receive the news of becoming Her Grace, Francine, Duchess of Northampton.”
“Papa, you seem to be precisely the same, whether you are Mr. Thomas Bennet of Longbourn or the Duke of Northampton. You possess the same philosophical composure.”
“Philosophical composure! I shall strive to live up to your expectation. Fortunately, the effort should not be too strenuous. You see, being a duke has its advantages. I can live however I fancy without fearing people’s censure.
They may criticize me for being wrong, or indecorous, or even scandalous, but none will say it out loud for fear that I will hear about it and banish them from the House of Northampton.
They will tolerate me. In this respect, your mother will have nothing to fear.
She will be revered by those hangers-on, that is, everyone, for who does not want to be viewed as a bosom friend of a duchess?
No matter how… indecorous she behaves, she will be the first lady to enter most rooms, being ranked higher than all but a handful of duchesses of higher precedence.
She is just a small step below royalty.”
Wearing a self-indulgent smile, Mr. Bennet looked beyond the daughter sitting directly in front of him, as if he were looking forward to making sport of just about everyone around him with impunity.