Chapter Three
The Bennet carriage ambled down the tree-lined drive of Barlow Hall late one April evening.
Jane and Elizabeth eagerly pressed their noses to the glass, waiting for a glimpse of the house which they knew would be lit by torches and candles in anticipation of their arrival.
Their father slept on the opposite bench, his snores having provided the not so musical accompaniment to the sisters’ conversation for the last several hours.
“I can see it!” Jane declared, and Elizabeth slid to her side of the carriage.
“It is lit up like a bonfire,” Elizabeth observed as the carriage took the final turn.
Now Barlow Hall lay in front of them, and they could not see it anymore.
However, they could rouse their sleeping father to apprise him of their imminent arrival.
Elizabeth let Jane attempt this in her gentle way.
When this did not work, Elizabeth employed her own method.
“Lizzy,” he nearly shouted as he sat up. Jane giggled while still trying to admonish her sister.
“You should not exploit Papa’s ticklishness,” she said, attempting, and failing, to sound stern.
“But he would not wake up, and we are almost there,” Elizabeth defended herself. “Besides, you know you love to hear his laugh.”
It was true, the high girlish snigger Mr. Bennet emitted when tickled was a well-known and much-loved noise in their family.
He harrumphed dramatically, but his smile betrayed him.
He was in high spirits having quite enjoyed the trip with his eldest daughters.
He looked forward to the fortnight he planned to spend participating in the planting season of Barlow Hall, learning new methods and sharing his own experience and wisdom with his brother-in-law.
Although if he and his wife were not able to produce a son, as was seeming more and more likely, Mr. Bennet saw little reason to exert himself on behalf of an estate that would devolve to his despised, miserly, ignorant cousin upon his death.
Each year that passed without the anticipated heir saw Mr. Bennet slipping further and further into the role of the indolent landlord, and some might say father as well.
However, since his brother-in-law, who also happened to be a prodigious correspondent and a favourite of his, now also had an estate to manage, Mr. Bennet had become slightly more engaged and willing to learn.
Mr. Gardiner brought his natural enthusiasm and intelligence to bear on his management of Barlow Hall in ways that reminded Mr. Bennet of his younger self, and despite his lazier tendencies, found that he wanted to exert himself as he saw his brother-in-law doing, particularly when he saw the results the younger man was achieving.
The carriage came to a stop, and Mr. Bennet took a look out the window as they waited for the carriage to be ready for their descent.
“Well, Lizzy, with how you have gone on these past few years, I was half expecting to find a castle in the clouds and to be greeted by woodland fairies, but I suppose this will do.”
Barlow Hall’s servants placed the steps in front of the Bennet conveyance and rapped on the door to indicate all was ready. And so it was that Mr. Bennet found himself descending from his carriage after two days of travel into the arms of his wife’s family.
“Thomas,” Edward Gardiner greeted the older man, hand outstretched. “It is so good to have you here.”
“Thank you, Edward,” Thomas said, then turned to help his daughters alight.
Jane came first, her smile wide, looking from her uncle to her aunt, who stood just behind him on Mr. Barlow’s arm.
Then Elizabeth bounded down, unaided. However, she did not run to her aunt, nor did she declare her joy at her arrival or begin peppering her family with questions and stories.
Instead, she stayed by her father’s side as greetings were exchanged and the luggage unloaded and remained there even after Jane had moved to embrace Mr. Barlow and their aunt.
When the party moved towards the entryway, Mrs. Gardiner approached her.
“Dearest Lizzy,” she began, “we have missed you. I am so glad you are here.”
Elizabeth bounced on her feet and looked eager to throw herself into the arms of her aunt, but after glancing at her father, she merely nodded and expressed her pleasure at being there—like a polite, somewhat disinterested young lady.
Madeline wondered at this difference in her niece but allowed that the long journey may have fatigued her.
The guests were ushered into the front drawing room, where some light refreshments awaited them.
After eating, drinking and conversing for only a few minutes, their hosts could perceive the exhaustion of the new arrivals.
“Your trunks have been brought to your rooms. I think you all should retire, and we can continue to share our news and plans in the morning.”
“Yes, thank you, Madeline,” Mr. Bennet said, rising to do as she suggested. “I am eager to rest my weary bones on the famously soft and luxurious beds of Barlow Hall.”
Winking at Elizabeth, Mr. Bennet followed the Gardiners from the room with a weary Jane, nearly asleep on her feet, tucked into his side.
Mr. Barlow offered his arm to Elizabeth.
This final pair proceeded more slowly than the others, so that when they reached the entry hall, Jane and Mr. Bennet were halfway up the stairs.
“You do not seem quite yourself, Lizzy,” Mr. Barlow observed in a low voice. “Is something amiss?”
Elizabeth looked at her friend, contemplating a response. It took a moment before she simply said she was tired.
“Very well,” he responded. “But should you have a concern you think might be eased by talking, you know where to find me.” He bowed and left Elizabeth at the bottom of the stairs as his chambers had been moved, years ago, to the ground floor.
At Jane’s door Elizabeth found her sister and father saying their good nights.
“Ah, Lizzy,” he greeted her. “Jane has just been showing me the delights of the rooms at Barlow Hall. I can now understand why you prefer these luxurious and sizeable accommodations to the cramped bedchambers of Longbourn which, though smaller, you must share with your sister. Add to that the size of the grounds and the stables, it is a wonder you return to Hertfordshire at all.” Though his tone was his usual light and teasing, Lizzy rushed to reassure him.
“Indeed, I do not, Papa,” she insisted. “I do not need a hundred rooms, manicured garden paths or a stable full of horses. I love Longbourn.” Her tone was earnest, and to those who knew her, it was clear Lizzy was upset.
Her father looked at her for a moment, as if both curious and concerned, but then seemed to think better of it.
“If you say so, my dear.” He smiled, kissed her on the cheek and wished both his daughters a good night, leaving to find his own chambers as per the instructions given him by the Gardiners. Lizzy watched him go for a moment before moving to follow. Before she made it to the door, Jane stopped her.
“Lizzy, you know Papa is just teasing,” she said gently, laying a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “He knows you love our home and family.”
“I am not certain, Jane. I think all of the time I spent praising Barlow Hall, our aunt and uncle, Mr. Barlow . . . I think Papa feels I am disloyal. This is not my home after all. I like sharing a room with you. I miss our sisters when we are gone. The paths around Longbourn are my favourite in all the world . . .”
“Oh my sweet sister,” Jane sighed, leading Elizabeth to her bed. They sat. “Papa knows you love your home.” Seeing that Lizzy looked unconvinced and uncharacteristically unsure of herself, Jane continued.
“He likes to tease, and I think sometimes . . . you know he is renowned for being both perceptive and witty . . . I think sometimes in order to amuse himself, when he finds something that a person might be particularly sensitive about . . . he uses that as a basis for his jests. He knows how much you love it here and . . . also how much you love him.” Seeing her sister watching her earnestly, Jane pulled the smaller girl into her arms. “I think it is precisely your loyalty that Papa knows will make his teasing . . . impact you.”
Elizabeth considered her elder sister’s words.
Although it would comfort her in her present distress, she did not want to believe them to be true.
They did not paint her father, whom she loved above almost all others, in a very flattering light.
Even as she thought about that, she was struck by how it clearly pained Jane to expose their father with her observation.
It seemed that she was possibly as perceptive as their famously perceptive father, but she did not want to use her gift to expose or tease.
She used it to reassure Elizabeth. Though it worked—Elizabeth did feel reassured, which she told her sister— she chose not to dwell on some of the unpleasant implications of what Jane shared, deciding to only think of that which helped her.
And it had truly helped. By the next morning, Elizabeth was able to deflect or respond to her father’s teasing with teasing of her own since she had Jane’s words to remind her not to take it to heart.
She did note that after a day or two, he had found other ways to tease that stung less.
Whether this was because they focused on things she was not sensitive about or because she saw more clearly what he was about, Lizzy did not endeavour to discern.
The two weeks of Mr. Bennet’s visit flew by for everyone.
He spent most of every day with Mr. Gardiner in the fields, talking with his steward, reviewing account ledgers with both men or talking to the staff in charge of the grounds at Barlow Hall—the farrier, the groundskeeper, the herder and others.
However, he also found time every day to spend with the family.