Chapter 18
When Charles Bingley heard of his mother and sister Caroline in the Tower awaiting execution, he would have liked to have expressed surprise, but he could not.
It was sad his relatives had come to this end, as it would have been with any human being; however, after reading Louisa’s letter he could only agree that his mother and Caroline had done despicable things and had earned their prescribed punishment.
He had never imagined them capable of attempted murder, but he supposed years of coveting that which they would never have, materially or socially, and the frustration of never being able to attain it, had poured out in the disgusting attack on his stepsister.
Bingley was pleasantly surprised that he was invited to Louisa’s wedding, and, furthermore, that he would be the one giving her away to her new husband.
He read the reports in The Times of London, which had been repeated in every broadsheet in the Kingdom, of the recovery of Jane Bennet, now a viscountess, and her family connections.
He had believed there was no chance he would be invited to a wedding where she, her sister, or her brother would be present.
From what Louisa told him, the family had been impressed by his desire to change his life, and the Viscountess was willing to hear him if he felt he had anything to say to her.
Bingley knew, no matter how many years in the past he had committed his offence against Jane Bennet, he would have to apologise fully and without trying to excuse his behaviour in the past.
When he met with Louisa in Meryton, he had made his apologies to her for his behaviour and offences against her when they were growing up. In her magnanimity, she had forgiven him. He had met his future brother-in-law when he helped the Duke, and Hurst had impressed him as an excellent sort of man.
When Bingley arrived in Meryton the night before the wedding, he noticed his reception from the locals was decidedly warmer than it had ever been before. Word must have been disseminated about his change of heart and the way he had assisted the Duke against his obsessed aunt.
Where before he had been shunned, he was welcomed.
He was given one of the best rooms at the inn in Meryton and told it had been already paid for by his future brother.
He looked forward to meeting Louisa at Longbourn Church on the morrow, the first time he would be allowed to set foot on Bennet lands since his ill-advised attempt to attack the then Miss Bennet.
If he needed a reminder of his folly, all he need do was look at the scar of her teeth on his hand, still clearly visible.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Since Miss Anne de Bourgh had been resident in Hertfordshire, she had become much closer to her aunt, uncle, and cousins.
There was no more formality between Anne and any of the group of friends and family residing at Netherfield Park.
She had become especially close to Karen Younge and George Wickham.
The three were sitting outdoors one afternoon, the day before the double wedding that would unite Miss Younge with the Major and Louisa with Mr. Hurst. “Are you resolved to return to the Dragoons, Major?” Anne asked, as the three sipped lemonades in the shade of the gazebo.
“I wanted to, but I fear the injury to my arm will leave it permanently too weak to wield a sabre,” Wickham lamented.
“It does not please me you were injured, George, but I cannot repine the fact you will no longer be put in harm’s way. I would hate to lose you on a battlefield after finding you. It may be selfish to articulate such feelings, but I do not want to lose you,” Karen Younge stated, softly.
“Well I know it, Karen. Mayhap it is not too late for me to seek a career in the law,” Wickham surmised.
“There may be yet another option. You learnt a lot from your father when you grew up at Pemberley, did you not, George?” Anne asked.
“I suppose I did,” Wickham replied.
“I am aware I will never be able to bear a child, an heir due to my health. I am the last of the de Bourghs, and I find I have an estate to run. My mother cosseted and closeted me, never allowing me to be educated or allowing me to know about my inheritance. At five and twenty years old I am in possession of a large estate and have no idea how to manage it,” Anne explained.
“Are you offering me the position of steward? I thought William said the current gentleman in the position is more than competent,” Wickham asked.
“No, I am not asking you to be my employee; I am asking you to come live at Rosings Park as the future master!” Anne delivered her bombshell.
“Excuse me. Did I hear you correctly?” Wickham asked in a state of shock. “Surely one of your cousins, especially Richard, is far more worthy than I? I am not without the ability to support a wife; I invested my legacy from the late Duke, and it has grown nicely.”
“Your question makes you even more worthy, George. I am not making this offer because I think you unable to support your wife. William has more estates than he knows what to do with; if he had ten sons, he would have an estate for each of them. Andrew has Hilldale, and will, one day have Snowhaven and the Matlock estates. Richard has Brookfield as one of Aunt Elaine’s brothers passed away without a direct heir and left it to Richard, whose legacy from Uncle Robert has also grown nicely.
Like Rosings Park, Richard’s estate has a profit of about seven thousand pounds per annum,” Anne related.
“So you see, I chose you because my other choices all had their own estates,” Anne teased.
“We do not know what to say,” Karen Younge said, recovering her power of speech.
“There is no need. You have both become my good friends with no expectation of any sort of reward. I know the state of my health – I will not live to old age. You will be giving me far more than I you,” Anne told the couple.
“Can you imagine the look on my dear mother’s face if she hears the next master of Rosings Park will be the son of Pemberley’s former steward?
” Then Anne smiled as a thought struck her.
“She should be happy; there will be a connection between Pemberley and Rosings at last!”
Once Anne announced her intention to the assembled family, there was not a single voice of dissent among them. Many toasts were drunk to the couples who would marry on the morrow.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
During the wedding breakfast after the double wedding, held at Longbourn, Charles Bingley approached the Viscountess Glenmeade gingerly.
“Lady Bennet, please allow me to apologise for my inexcusable behaviour to you all those years ago,” he pleaded after she had greeted him politely, her husband waiting at her elbow in case he was needed.
“Mr. Bingley, I have it from most reliable sources that you have made genuine and permanent changes to your life. I forgive you whole-heartedly. It helps that Louisa is my sister now. I do not know if I am ready to call you brother—yet. Who knows what the future will hold? I wish you the best of everything in your life. Have a good day, Mr. Bingley.” Bingley understood he was being dismissed by the Viscountess, but he had gained her forgiveness.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“It seems that, in a way, you will be following in your father’s footsteps, George,” the Duke clapped his friend on the back.
“You are right in a manner of speaking. However, I do not think either of our fathers envisaged me being an estate owner one day!” Wickham smiled.
How his life had changed because he decided to take responsibility for his actions when the late Duke took him to task all those years ago!
He would never have imagined he, the son of a steward, and his wife—how well that sounded, would one day be master and mistress of a large, thriving estate.
A few days earlier, he and the former Colonel were in London, where both resigned from the army and sold their commissions.
As they were barred from returning to combat, it had made the decision palatable.
General Atherton was loath to part with two of his best officers but understood their decisions to move on as gentlemen.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Harold and Louisa Hurst made the rounds of well-wishers at the wedding breakfast. Louisa had never looked prettier; she had not noticed it in herself, but all the walking she had begun once she and Elizabeth became friends had paid off!
She had been shocked when her friend had taken her to the modiste, who told her she needed to be measured again because she was so much smaller in the waist.
She had obtained all the things her former mother had craved by doing the exact opposite of what the condemned Mrs. Bingley had advocated for.
Louisa felt the same sorrow she would have felt for the loss of any human life, but nothing more than that.
Based on the application by the Duke of Derbyshire, which was supported by the Earls of Holder and Matlock, the ecclesiastical court had granted a posthumous annulment to Thomas Bennet so that when the woman met her maker, it would be as Mrs. Bingley; there would be no link to the Bennet name.
But this was not the day to think of such things, Louisa reminded herself as she looked at her husband standing next to her. She, who thought she would never marry due to her size and looks, was loved, respected, and appreciated. She returned those same sentiments to her husband.