Chapter 3
After a long moment, Elizabeth asked, “Is that why you were unconcerned about Mr. Collins not marrying one of us? Because you knew you were second in line to the dukedom?” asked Elizabeth.
“Your mother’s nervous nature has conjured that I would soon expire, and Mr. Collins would throw you all out to the hedgerows.
“You see, your grandfather was at the end of the three-generation entail. He and I could have broken the entail altogether, but he was unwilling because of the debacle caused by your great-great-great uncle—the one who lost Netherfield in a card game, and the possibility of Longbourn being divided among you girls for the lack of a single male heir was also not to his liking. A grandson was obviously not forthcoming. Lydia was already five years old when your grandfather passed. Instead, he put a special provision in the entail document covering the next three generations, allowing males from the female lines to inherit in the absence of an heir male of the body. By his reckoning—and mine as well, it is far more likely one of you will marry before long and have a son, kicking Mr. Collins off the heir presumptive ladder by one rung. If two of the five of you bear sons during my lifetime, then Mr. Collins’s chance to be master of Longbourn would diminish to virtually nonexistent.
An heir presumptive is as the name implies—he is presumed heir only if circumstances remain unchanged.
But circumstances do change, sometimes most unexpectedly.
As you see, I, an heir presumptive approaching the half-century mark, succeeded a duke who was half my age!
“Your mother knows about the special provision, but she assumes the worst. Nothing short of her birthing a male heir could calm her nerves. And that is also why you girls were all out in society as soon as you turned fifteen.”
Mr. Bennet became solemn before he continued.
“Of all the questions you must have, I did not expect this one, Lizzy. The simple answer was that I did not wish him on any of my daughters. To my chagrin, I understand the misery of being in an ill-matched union.” Mr. Bennet let this pregnant statement hang in the air.
In the blink of an eye, he returned to his banter. “I am ever thankful that Mr. Collins, descended as he is from your great-aunt, is not eligible to inherit the dukedom. I have become protective of the ducal connection once I found out that I could very well inherit it.”
“I see,” said Elizabeth absent-mindedly. Mr. Bennet’s last comment about connections reminded her of how Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy looked down on her connections in trade. Now, they would look up, way up—to Miss…nay, Lady Elizabeth Bennet-Fitzstuart, descendent of a monarch and daughter of a duke!
Instead of feeling triumphant, she felt a bit lost, unused to the idea of being so elevated in society.
If only the connection had been known when…
“Lizzy! You sound as if you were displeased with your newfound noble lineage. Are you of the same mind as your great-grandfather, and do you despise your origin?” chided Mr. Bennet, somewhat amused.
“Oh, no, papa. This discovery of our connections seems so fantastically incredible. Are you rich now, Your Grace?”
His Grace… yes, it would take some time for the new status to sink in.
“Well, dukes, in general, are. Ours did not start out particularly well-off. As you may recall, our progenitor had at least fourteen other illegitimate children. All the sons were created dukes, in addition to two masterly manipulative mistresses who were created duchesses in their own right. By the time King Charles II discovered the handsome lad who so uncannily resembled him, His Majesty had hardly any property left to bestow on this last ducal creation. Our forefather did end up with two estates, one for the dukedom and the other for the subsidiary title, the Barony of Fairwater, both in Oxfordshire. Fortunately for me, the fourth duke was exceptionally industrious. He amassed an immense fortune by building an extensive canal network. At the beginning, he built canals to transport coal from the north to his estates. Later, he simply enjoyed building them. The income from the canals alone is forty thousand pounds a year, and that is after paying a consortium of wealthy supporters who came to his aid when he overextended in his zeal to build more and more elaborate locks around challenging topography. Ah, you know one of these partners. Mr. Darcy, and to a lesser degree, his uncle the Earl Fitzwilliam, are two of the major shareholders of the consortium. So, the rumor of Mr. Darcy’s income being ten thousand a year is a gross underestimation.
His income from the canals alone is twice that. ”
Elizabeth showed such a look of wonder on her face that the Duke was heartily diverted.
His daughter, adamantly indifferent to other people’s wealth, had been stunned by her own family’s enormous fortune.
Elizabeth was, in truth, more chagrined by the fact that the gentleman who had expressed such disdain for her should be back in her life everywhere she turned.
Mr. Bennet continued. “When income from the canal tolls started rolling in, the fourth duke purchased a number of country houses situated along his canals from the Midlands near his coal mines through Oxfordshire along the River Thames toward London. In the future, if it pleases you, you could break your fast at one, travel to another for luncheon and tea, and then to the third for dinner, ball or whatever strikes your fancy!”
In her wildest dreams, she had never imagined such wealth existing outside of royalty.
“Yes, this dukedom is now one of the richest, if not the richest, in existence. You see, coal is powering the breakthroughs in our lives. Enormous fortunes could be generated in a single generation. The fourth duke saw to the distribution of this energy source to the rest of the country through his canal system so that people everywhere can benefit from these scientific and technological advances. He started a noble effort. I would like to continue his legacy. It is a pity that the dukedom will become extinct after me.”
Elizabeth broke the silence that followed this almost melancholy ending to her father’s narration. She had never known her father to care so much about a topic not related to his books. He must feel deeply about the dukedom, far more than he had expressed.
“Papa, the wealth created by the fourth duke is not entailed, is it? I wonder why he did not divide his fortune among his kin. Both you and the fifth duke were third cousins of his, but he had quite an extended family closer to him in blood.”
“Out of his many siblings, only six survived into adulthood. Being so focused on his building ambition, he did not have close relationships with his sisters and brothers-in-law. His only brother had predeceased him, and his nephews died tragically in a fire while under his care. He did not marry but had mistresses. Unlike Charles II, he took care not to leave children born without the benefit of a legal marriage. He was in the midst of designing an elaborate scheme to ensure that his legacy could not be squandered by one or two wastrel heirs, but he died before signing the document. That means that there are already lawsuits from various individuals claiming the whole or a part of the inheritance, including the title. His heir’s mind was not on dividing his possessions, but on preserving his own life.
He had no time to make any substantial changes to such an enormous fortune.
There will be no end of annoyance to vex me. ”
“When will you tell mamma about her new status as duchess?”
“I delegate to you the task of notifying and fortifying your mother regarding her elevation to a level of society of which she has never dreamed. You must break it to her gently.”
Elizabeth was not surprised by her father shirking the responsibility that should have been his.
She had played the role of mediator since she was but twelve years old.
Taking her side on the refusal of Mr. Collins’s offer of marriage was one of the few times her father interfered directly to gainsay her mother.
“How about our neighbors around Meryton? The four-and-twenty families are mostly genteel, but the militia is hard to predict,” Elizabeth said, remembering Mr. Wickham’s fortune-hunting tendency.
“I shall have the entire family removed from the area within the week, before my new status has gone too far afield. You can go on to Kent from London if you wish. I shall tell your mother and sisters that I am going to Oxford to attend an old friend’s funeral, which is true enough, and take the family with me to London for a holiday.
Everyone will be surprised but pleased. Your mother will think the best of her husband for finally succumbing to her never-ending plea to spend a few weeks in town during the season.
I have refused thus far because it is simply impractical for all seven of us to stay at your Uncle Gardiner’s house for more than a couple of days.
Now, we shall stay at Northampton House at St. James’s Place, the grandest house among all the grand houses across the street from the Royal palace.
I alone will go on to Kennington Castle, just outside Oxford, where the fifth Duke will be buried. ”
“Oh! You think I should follow my original plan to visit Hunsford, or should I excuse myself to Charlotte?”
“It will be entirely your choice. If you do, I would wish to go with you simply to see my dear cousin Collins bow so low as to scrape the ground, kissing where you tread. Haha, that should be most diverting, you ranking above his most beneficent patroness, a mere earl’s daughter.”
Elizabeth was not thinking about Mr. Collins’s obsequiousness.
Instead, she was imagining Miss Bingley’s face when that harpy heard about the Bennets’ new status.
The Bingleys could have been related to a duke’s family, and through this connection, could reach anywhere in the first circles.
After all, just about every peer in the Kingdom was related to her family through her great-great-great-grandfather, the King.
Even the current monarch, George III, was descended from James I of England and Ireland, King Charles II’s grandfather, who was, in turn, descended from Henry VII, the first of the Tudors.
When she traced her lineage further back to the Plantagenets, her eyes started glazing over. She shook her head to steady herself.
“Papa, do you think we can trace our beginning to the Normans?”
“I would not be surprised if somewhere along the family tree, we reach further back than that. The ducal library may have some treatises on that,” said His Grace, quite excitedly, for just the mention of the ducal library and its vast collection made his heart sing.
While thinking that Miss Bingley had lost her chance to attach herself to a duke’s family, Elizabeth could not help wondering whether the haughtiest member of that party, Mr. Darcy, would be deferential, or would he pay her no mind because she was not handsome enough to tempt him?
Curiously, she felt that if it was the latter, she would think more highly of the gentleman, even though that was not saying much.
“…sending Lydia to Brighton with the militia…” Elizabeth caught this tidbit from her father while emerging from her own ruminations.
“Oh! Is Lydia going to Brighton? With the militia?” Elizabeth asked with obvious anxiety.
“Well, you will be going to Kent. She asked me for permission to go immediately after receiving the invitation from the Colonel’s wife, Mrs. Forster, just this morning.
How did you manage to miss the commotion caused by Lydia’s jubilation over the invitation, and Kitty’s caterwauling at being left out?
What do you think? Lydia will be Lydia, whether she is a duke’s daughter or a poor gentlewoman from a modest estate.
I can guarantee that Northampton House in town or Kennington Castle near the University will not provide the same attractions to her as a seaside camp full of redcoats. ”
Elizabeth frowned deeply when she contemplated the reactions of her younger sisters to their new status.
No matter what, Lydia must be stopped from going to Brighton with the militia regiment full of scoundrels and fortune-hunters.
She had not thought poorly of the officers of the regiment before, but now, things were different.
In a way, Mr. Wickham’s pursuing Miss King for her dowry had awakened her to the mercenary intent of most men.
Even the immensely wealthy Mr. Darcy was suspect—he could have married his heiress cousin for her inheritance.
She asked, “Papa, have you given your permission for Lydia to go?”
Mr. Bennet narrowed his eyes to scrutinize his favorite daughter, making Elizabeth squirm, but she recovered quickly. Her papa could never intimidate her.
“Do you disapprove? Why the knitted brows? Well, let not your mind be troubled. Even if I agreed to let Lydia go, your duchess mother would override my approval and lock up Lydia until she could find another duke to whom she could marry off your youngest sister,” Mr. Bennet said with mirth.
Elizabeth looked noticeably relieved at her father’s decision.
“Your favorite, Mr. Wickham, will surely be disappointed that his association with the Bennet family will be at an imminent end,” His Grace teased.
“Mr. Wickham was never my favorite!” Elizabeth objected vehemently. Inside, she had to admit that her father had been right until very recently.