Chapter 2
Elizabeth
“Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam,” the Gardiner’s housekeeper announced the next afternoon.
Surprised but pleased, Elizabeth rose, as did her aunt, Madeleine Gardiner. Elizabeth performed the introduction and explained that, the night before, she had met the colonel at the concert.
Bowing to her aunt, the colonel said, “My entire family is friends with the Allingtons, ma’am. I was pleased to meet a friend of Miss Allington’s.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Aunt Maddie said.
Elizabeth asked, “Did you enjoy the concert, Colonel?”
“Very much. I looked for you afterwards and never spotted you. I hope you were not forced to leave early. I know you were looking forward to the performance.”
“Oh, no! We stayed until the last note of the last sonata.”
“Good, good. And I assume it was everything you hoped for?”
“Yes, indeed.” Elizabeth smiled. She was certain that the colonel did not know all that much about Clementi’s music, but her friend Julia Allington had let her know that he was eight and twenty years old and the second son of an earl; he had been to Cambridge but had made a career in the British army.
She supposed that fighting Napoleon’s forces left little time to listen to sonatinas and cadenzas.
“Excellent. Well, I am sorry I had missed you; my mother was hoping to meet you.”
She studied the colonel’s expression, surprised that a countess would wish to meet her.
She found the colonel quite likeable and, with his fit physique and friendly face, he was also fairly attractive.
However, she knew that second sons almost always needed to marry “well,” which of course meant that they needed to marry women with large dowries, or an estate, or a handsome monetary inheritance—and hopefully all three.
She had almost no dowry at all and certainly no estate or inheritance, and she knew, therefore, that there was no chance for the acquaintance to result in matrimony.
But perhaps the colonel did not yet know that. She felt it was important to convey that bit of information…somehow.
She said, “I am so sorry, sir. My friend and I did spot you as we left, but you were in the middle of quite a large cluster of friends, busily speaking to and laughing with them. We had not the slightest notion that you were looking for anyone.”
The colonel shrugged. “What can I say? My friends are a bit too attentive at times.”
Aunt Maddie said, “I see from your uniform that you are in the Regulars. I imagine you have spent some rather tense times on the continent these past few years?”
“Yes, ma’am. In Portugal, which was quite unpleasant, given our little friend’s actions on the peninsula; and in Sweden, which was much less arduous although likely of equal importance.”
Elizabeth offered, “I have read about the Battles of Rolica and Vimeiro; even though they were victories, I imagine that there were many tragedies along the way.”
The colonel shot her a look of, she thought, appreciation. “You have the right of it, Miss Bennet. I am surprised that you have been reading about battles? A young lady such as yourself generally knows nothing of specifics.”
“My father has for years discussed current events with me and encourages me to read whatever I like, including the newspapers to which he subscribes.”
“That is admirable, Miss Bennet.”
She was certain that many gentlemen, including those raised in families with titles, would disapprove of her familiarity with masculine concerns, but she saw that his appreciation of her interest and knowledge was sincere.
Still contemplating how to bring up her lack of dowry, she said, “You see, I am the second of five daughters, and my parents had no sons, which is a pity since my father’s estate is entailed away from the female line.
But having no brothers also meant that my father lavished the kind of attention and education on me that he would have transmitted to a son, if he had one.
He even taught me quite a bit about estate management, even though I will not inherit the estate. ”
She hoped that she had conveyed enough to help the colonel understand her poor circumstances, and she met his eyes in order to read his response.
He nodded, and again his eyes seemed to flash with appreciation.
She became certain that he had already learnt of her lack of dowry; his family connexion to the Allingtons had undoubtedly resulted in him easily discovering all about her lack of connexions and fortune.
She felt herself relax. There was no need to have awkward conversations about unpleasant topics.
He said, “I was in somewhat opposite circumstances of yours, Miss Bennet. As a second son, I was not taught about estate management, as my elder brother was, nor was I groomed to take my place in the House of Lords. It was Reggie, the viscount, who was encouraged to read the newspaper and to discuss politics.”
She grinned at the comparison and said, “Although we are opposite in all of that, I suppose that we have other things in common—such as both of us being as poor as church mice?”
The colonel laughed so loudly, he almost drowned out Aunt Maddie’s murmur, “Elizabeth!” Aunt Maddie sent her a look that seemed to be amused and yet still warned her to behave like a lady.
His eyes twinkled as he said, “Speak for yourself, Miss Bennet. I am no church mouse; I am more like a boarding-house mouse—with plenty of sustenance but no luxury whatsoever.”
They both laughed, and the rest of the visit was comfortable and quite pleasant.
The next day, Mr Cooper called. He had not verbalised an interest in courting Elizabeth, but his actions seemed to indicate a clear interest in her, and she tried to be obvious in her lack of interest in him.
Of course she was expected to remain polite, and she was not certain that he had picked up on her feelings.
She was delighted when her friends Lady Grace and the Honourable Amelia Robinson came calling as well.
She had met these congenial young ladies, and Julia Allington, when they were all just ten years old, during one of her extended visits to the Gardiners.
Aunt Maddie had dedicated herself that spring to exposing Elizabeth to art, music, dance, and natural history, and she met Grace, Amelia, and Julia at two different museums and then a dance class.
The girls got along very well, and the disparity of their circumstances was not so obvious back then.
All four girls were daughters of gentlemen, and although the Gardiners were in trade, they had as much money as the other three families.
As girls, they had seemed to be equals, and the young ladies still treated Elizabeth as such.
When Grace and Amelia were announced, Elizabeth jumped up and moved swiftly to them, extending her hands for brief, fond squeezes.
Of course, Mr Cooper stood as well, and Elizabeth introduced her friends to Mr Cooper.
Just after everyone took a seat, the colonel arrived, and Elizabeth made more introductions.
Grace and Amelia knew the colonel already, although only slightly.
The three spoke of a rout they had all attended, and Mr Cooper suddenly looked quite nervous.
Elizabeth assumed he had not been invited to the rout because he was in that sort of grey area; his father had made an enormous fortune as a tea merchant, but Mr Cooper himself was not considered “in trade.” Rather, he had been raised as a gentleman and was expected to use much of his fortune to purchase an estate.
Even though Elizabeth did not like Mr Cooper all that much, she disliked guests feeling uncomfortable or insecure, so when she had the opportunity, she turned the conversation to the offerings of the Sans Pareil Theatre, which she knew Mr Cooper often attended and enjoyed.
He shot her a grateful look, and she noticed that the colonel smiled at her effort to make everyone feel included.
Mr Cooper overstayed by more than ten minutes the polite half-hour-per-call rule. He finally left, though, and only then did Elizabeth feel comfortable inviting Grace, Amelia, and the colonel to remain longer to join her and her aunt at tea.
“Miss Bennet,” the colonel said, “how is it that I have never seen you before at balls or routs—like the recent event your friends were speaking of? I feel confident that Lady Grace would not be speaking of such events, here in your aunt’s home, if you were not invited?”
Elizabeth smiled at him and said, “I have been receiving invitations, thanks to my dear friends, but although I am considered ‘out’ at home, in Hertfordshire, I have not wished to truly embark on a Season here in London. Not yet, at least. Perhaps I will do so next year.”
“Ah. I believe you are eighteen?” Elizabeth nodded her confirmation, and he continued, “So you attend concerts, plays, perhaps lectures?”
“Yes. I have been to several balls and assemblies at home, but none here.”
“I see.”
Amelia said, “What about you, Colonel? I have seen you at only a few events.”
He chuckled. “My excuse is more about the Little Corporal than anything else. There are times when I am whisked away from Town and cannot do a single thing about it.”
Grace said, “You always tell amusing stories, Colonel. Certainly you must have had a few new adventures you can relay to us.”
And so the colonel chattered away, telling three anecdotes in a light hearted manner.
Elizabeth found his stories very entertaining, but she did not join in with her friends’ giggles.
She smiled, but she could not laugh; she sensed all the dark edges around each story, and she saw the colonel’s nonstop affability as a sort of mask the man wore.
Finally, she spoke to it: “Thank you, Colonel, for entertaining us so well. But I know at what cost these amusing experiences have come, and please accept from us our deepest gratitude for enduring anguish and devastation in order to protect the entire nation.”
She saw shock in his expression, and then a flood of emotion that brightened his eyes. He nodded and turned back to his plate and his teacup. It was not long before he made his excuses and left.
Grace said softly, “You seemed to have touched on a sore topic, there, Lizzy. I have never seen the colonel display emotion as he just now did.”
Elizabeth said, “I wanted to thank him not only for amusing us, but for protecting us. Do you not think that soldiers need acknowledgment from the rest of us—acknowledgement of their sacrifices?”
Amelia looked thoughtful. “To tell the truth, I have never considered this before now. But I see your point. However, I hope that the colonel did not mind that he became vulnerable in front of us.”
Elizabeth said, “Well, I love to tease, but I would never tease anyone about showing emotion about a serious matter. I would never gossip about his display, nor bring it up with him again. As long as all of us do the same, I think he will be well.” She turned to her aunt and asked, “Do you agree, Aunt?”
Aunt Maddie studied the three of them and seemed satisfied with what she saw.
“I do. I think it shows great maturity that you enjoy the amusing stories but acknowledge the pain that he must have carefully neglected to relay to us, and as long as his sensibilities are not fodder for tittle tattle nor jesting, I believe he will appreciate being understood on both levels.”
Elizabeth nodded, and she was satisfied to see that her friends agreed as well.