Chapter Six #2
Mrs. Bennet’s jaw dropped. Elizabeth worked not to mimic the expression. Clustered around their parents in the small parlor, Mary, Kitty and Lydia all gaped. Their father had never said a kind, or even positive, word to their mother in so long as Elizabeth could remember.
“Y-you need me?” Mrs. Bennet stammered.
“Yes. You are my wife, the mother of our children and the mistress of our household. I need you.”
Mrs. Bennet looked about at her daughters.
When her mother’s questioning gaze reached her, Elizabeth smiled.
Mrs. Bennet turned back to Mr. Bennet and nodded.
“Very well, then.” She cleared her throat.
“Mary is correct. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley were quite generous. We… we didn’t really need a finer service.
The money will be better spent elsewhere. ”
“I agree.” Mr. Bennet gave Mrs. Bennet’s shoulders a squeeze and dropped his arms. “While you see to these packages, I’ll head to Meryton to see what I can do about the remainder of our list.”
“Me too,” Lydia cried, eliciting, “And me,” from Kitty.
“I’ll help you, Mother,” Elizabeth said, not wanting her mother’s good behavior to leave her working alone while everyone else went into town.
“And I must get to the Lucases or I’ll be late,” Mary said and bustled from the room.
Mrs. Bennet drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Yes, well, Elizabeth and I will unpack the dishes, and please don’t worry about a tea service yet, Mr. Bennet, because goodness knows where we’ll put everything they brought. There’s hardly a shelf or cabinet in this place.”
“Mr. Darcy has sent for a team of carpenters to help with that,” Mr. Bennet said.
That surprised Elizabeth. She didn’t generally consider Mr. Darcy to possess a helpful disposition.
Mrs. Bennet cast her husband a quick, inscrutable look, but nodded. “That’s very good of him.”
The others left and Elizabeth and her mother returned to the rough wooden boxes. Elizabeth began removing carefully padded plates and glasses while Mrs. Bennet stood behind her scrutinizing the gift.
“Do you feel that Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley would like a return of the crates they brought their gifts over in?” Mrs. Bennet asked.
“Not if bringing them back takes us to Netherfield,” Elizabeth answered.
“Then maybe they can be more than boxes.”
Following her mother’s plan, Elizabeth helped empty the crates, take them to the kitchen, and stack them on their sides.
They made rough, open shelving, barely adequate to the task of housing the stacks of dishes.
Still, as Mrs. Bennet said, anything was better than storing them on the floor, and the bowls, scant cups and spoons the previous tenants had left already took up a fair portion of the workspace on the tiny table.
Well after Elizabeth and her mother finished arranging the dishes as best they could, her father and younger sisters returned, accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Phillips.
Mrs. Phillips, who’d brought sugar, more tea and several spices, went with Mrs. Bennet to survey the kitchen, Kitty and Lydia trailing after.
Elizabeth remained with her uncle and father, turning to Mr. Phillips as soon as the others were far enough from the room not to overhear.
“Uncle Phillips, it’s my understanding that Mr. Collins had a will drawn up in my favor.
” She hesitated, working out her next words.
“I know it’s forward of me to ask, but our circumstances being what they are, I must know if his will includes anything that might be of aid to us? ”
Mr. Phillips settled into one of the parlor chairs, shaking his head. “It did, but I’m afraid that doesn’t do us any good. He left my office with both copies. I can only assume they burned up in the fire.”
“But you wrote out the will,” Mr. Bennet said, taking the chair opposite his brother by marriage, Elizabeth sitting beside him. “Surely your clerk witnessed it. Wouldn’t your word and his be enough?”
“Maybe, if Mr. Collins didn’t have an earlier will, but he mentioned to me that he had one, which this one was supposed to supplant. I’ve no idea to whom that will leaves Mr. Collins’ holdings. All I can guess at is, not to his sister.”
“Mr. Collins has a sister?” Elizabeth had assumed someone so awkward must have grown up without the benefit of friends or siblings.
“Yes. She’s much older. From what I gather, she quarreled with their father over whom to wed.
He made her wait until she reached her majority and didn’t require his consent.
In retaliation, she never permitted him to meet her child.
It seems to have escalated from there until their father finally cut her and her offspring from his will, and ordered Mr. Collins to do the same, which is why he already had a will before coming to me, even being young and unwed.
He required it in order to honor his father’s wishes by ensuring his sister could not inherit their father’s property. ”
“But you don’t know to whom the first will leaves anything?” Elizabeth asked, curious who Mr. Collins could have chosen.
“I do not. I only know what his new will said.”
Fascinated, Elizabeth asked, “Did he leave much to me?”
“It’s moot now,” her father interrupted before Mr. Phillips could reply. “Without the new will, everything will go to the previous beneficiary. There’s no sense learning what might have been. It can only lead to unfulfilling speculation.”
Taking Mr. Bennet’s cue, Mr. Phillips nodded. “The important thing is that Mr. Collins’ death breaks Longbourn’s entail and that you, Mr. Bennet, must revise your own will.”
Glad she hadn’t gone to the kitchen with the other women, Elizabeth tried to be inconspicuous in her chair, greatly interested in the turn of conversation.
“I’ve already given that a bit of thought,” her father said.
“With only a cottage to live in, there isn’t much point in trying to preserve everything intact.
It will be years before I can afford to rebuild.
Mrs. Bennet cannot run the farm, which means it should probably be sold when I die.
A trust should be set up for her lifetime.
My five daughters can inherit equally after her death. ”
A shock went through Elizabeth. Her father didn’t plan to rebuild?
“That’s sensible,” Mr. Phillips said.
“What is?” Mrs. Phillips asked, coming through the doorway.
“An increase in the girl’s dowries,” Mr. Phillips temporized, casting Elizabeth a cautionary look.
Elizabeth didn’t require the reminder. She knew her Aunt Phillips to be a terrible gossip.
One word to her and by tomorrow, everyone in Hertfordshire would know that Mr. Bennet didn’t plan to rebuild Longbourn and would instead leave each of his daughters a tidy sum, to be collected upon his and their mother’s demise.
Mrs. Phillips beamed at Mr. Bennet. “A wonderful idea. With whatever more you plan to settle on them and the one thousand pounds they each already have coming, your daughters will be very attractive to the local bachelors. It’s a good thing Mr. Bingley snatched dear Jane up when he did.
” Mrs. Phillips dipped down beside the door and scooped up a basket.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to the kitchen.
Fanny wants to put the tea we brought in the most ridiculous location. Far too near the stove.”
Mrs. Phillips hurried back down the hall. Elizabeth grimaced, wishing her uncle hadn’t told his wife even as much as he had. With the way she gossiped, Mrs. Phillips would ensure every man in twenty miles knew there were four new heiresses residing in their town.