Chapter 20
“Good morning, Mr. Bennet,” said Mr. Allen.
Bennet looked up from his seat by the fire and gestured for the rector to come in, “Please sit down, and thank you for coming on a particularly chilly day.”
Mr. Allen obediently settled into position on another chair next to the fire and held out his hands to the flames even as he surreptitiously studied the man seated across from him. Mr. Bennet looked quite dreadful with a flushed face and a desperate look in his eye. Oddly enough, he was not holding a glass of wine.
“Are you unwell, Mr. Bennet?” he asked gently.
“I am physically ill, yes, but my greatest sickness is that of the mind.”
“I am most grieved to hear that, sir. Would you care to share your struggle?”
The master of Longbourn leaned back in his chair and heaved out a deep sigh of misery, “I am reducing my consumption of spirits, Mr. Allen. I realized that my habitual state of drunkenness was preventing me from being a good father, husband, and master of Longbourn.”
“That seems an excellent decision,” the reverend replied soothingly, “though I have heard that reducing one’s drinking can be a most uncomfortable experience.”
Bennet laughed harshly, “Uncomfortable, yes. The first few days were dreadful. Now my physical distress is somewhat diminished, but it has woken me up to …”
Tears leaked out of his eyes and he groaned aloud, “My dear Lizzy, my dear Jane, all of my daughters. Do you know what I have done to them, Mr. Allen? At a time when they were grieving and broken from the loss of their brother and their security, I retreated into habitual intoxication. You know my wife, you know that she is rarely sensible at the best of times. I have always been an idle fellow, but to have forced my own children, most of whom are not yet of age, to carry a burden that I could not ... I find I loathe myself, sir. I hate who I have become.”
Mr. Allen blew out a slow breath, said a quick prayer for wisdom, and leaned forward to gaze intently into his parishioner’s face, “What does your self-loathing tempt you to do, sir?”
The other man rubbed his hand on his forehead and chuckled grimly, “I wish to drink until I am thoroughly intoxicated again, so that I can forget what I have done.”
“Very good! Your own self-awareness is, I believe, the key to this difficulty. Mr. Bennet, none of us can go back in time and change what we have done. What we can do is to change our negative habits and actions from this point forward.Yes, you have sinned against your wife and your daughters, and by extension against the Lord who gave you a position of authority over Longbourn and your family and tenants. But many of the greatest men in the Scriptures sinned grievously. Those who sought God and repented were welcomed back. You know your family loves you. By all means, apologize for your failings, but set aside your guilt and move onward, for everyone’s sake, including your own. Dwelling on your guilt will not lead you down a path that is fruitful, but forgiveness and repentance, hard as it may be, will.”
The other man sat gazing into the fire for a full five minutes before nodding gravely, “You are correct, of course. My inclination is to be selfish again, to retreat into wine to bury my feelings of failure, but that would be for my benefit, not theirs.”
“Precisely,” Mr. Allen declared.
/
“Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, Anna?”
“Mr. Bingley has arrived and is asking to see you.”
Jane and Elizabeth, who had risen late after the previous night’s frolicking at Lucas Lodge, exchanged startled looks. It was still a full hour before formal visiting hours, and they were not yet even dressed. The rest of the ladies were also asleep, leaving the mansion silent with anticipation.
Elizabeth shook herself from her stupor and nodded at the maid, “Please tell Mr. Bingley that Miss Bennet will be downstairs in a few minutes, and send Sarah to help with Miss Bennet’s hair.”
“Yes, Miss.”
Jane found herself trembling slightly and looked worriedly into the mirror, fearful that her face was unbecomingly pale.
“You look lovely, dear Jane,” her sister declared, understanding her precious sister without words. With excitement in her eyes, she continued,“Come, let us get you dressed.”
/
Bingley, who had been pacing nervously in the parlor, jumped when the door finally opened and Miss Bennet, dressed in a gray morning gown, entered the room with Miss Elizabeth at her side.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Eliz ... lizabeth,” he stuttered.
“Mr. Bingley,” the two women chorused, curtsying gravely.
“Will you not sit down?” Jane asked, gesturing at one of the chairs. “May I order some tea?”
Bingley took a deep breath, “I was hoping, Miss Bennet, that I might ... I might have a private word with you.”
Elizabeth patted her sister’s arm joyfully and rose to her feet, “Of course, Mr. Bingley. I will be in the hall to make sure you are not interrupted.”
She glided out of the room, shut the door most of the way, and took up a position in the hall, intent on preventing any disruptions during this most important interview.
Jane, who had watched her sister depart, turned to discover that Bingley was on one knee before her. She flushed in surprise as a smile lit up her lovely face. Bingley leaned a little closer, his voice shaking with nerves and passion.
“Miss Bennet, I worry that today’s proposal might seem inopportune, coming as it does on the heels of the news that you will inherit Longbourn …”
She raised her hand in distress at these words, then dropped it as he continued fervently, “But I love you, not your prospective wealth, not your status, but you. You are the most handsome woman of my acquaintance, but it is your kindness, your generosity of spirit, your sweet temperament which has drawn me to you like a moth to flame. Miss Bennet, will you accept my hand in marriage?”
She must speak now, “Mr. Bingley, before I answer your question, I must inform you that there is a strong chance that I will not inherit the estate. My father is not obligated to will it to me as his eldest, and Elizabeth is far better suited to administer Longbourn after my father is gone.”
His reply was swift and fervent, “It matters not a whit, Miss Bennet. I care nothing either way. If you inherit, I will do everything I can to be a good master to Longbourn. If not, we will enjoy companionship and love at Netherfield or elsewhere. I care not if you inherit, I only care for you.”
“Then yes,” she responded, and tears fell from her eyes. “Yes, I accept your offer of marriage.”
/
“Oh, Jane!” Mrs. Bennet shrieked, so loudly that Elizabeth was tempted to clap her hands over her ears. “Oh my dear, I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing. Four thousand pounds a year and very likely more! Such a handsome gentleman and so very kind. I declare I will go distracted!”
Elizabeth was too happy to be particularly distressed at her mother’s screeching; she thought Mr. Bingley and Jane were entirely compatible, and her elder sister’s face was aglow with joy. She was also pleased that Bingley had proposed to Jane, spoke to Mr. Bennet to win his approval of the match, and returned to Netherfield before Mrs. Bennet came downstairs. Thus, her dear sister’s fiancé was not exposed to their mother’s vulgar ecstasies.
“You must be married as soon as possible, Jane! And your clothes, your wedding clothes! Elizabeth, we must arrange for clothes for your sister ...”
/
Fitzwilliam Darcy grimly clumped a few more steps before sinking with relief onto a simple wooden bench just inside the main stable door.
“Mr. Darcy!” Bingley’s coachman exclaimed in surprise. “Do you need the carriage, sir?”
“No, not at all,” Darcy assured the man. “I merely have been confined to the house too long with this ankle of mine, and decided to visit my horse. It was farther to the stables than I remember, but crutches seem to extend distances almost magically. How is Galileo?”
“He is very well, sir. We let him out to the near pasture this morning but we can bring him in if you like.”
“No, that is quite all right. I will try to catch a glimpse of him in a few minutes.”
There was a sudden cacophony of barking, followed by the patter of dog feet, and Maxwell tore around the corner and ran up to Darcy, his tail wagging furiously.
“Maxwell, my old friend,” the gentleman proclaimed. “How very good to see you on this fine morning.”
The dog panted moistly in his face and while the odor was not particularly pleasant, Darcy found he could not care.
“He is very fond of you, sir,” the coachman proclaimed as a stable boy raced around the corner and then halted in chagrin.
“I am sorry, Mr. Darcy. He got away from me again.”
Darcy rubbed the spaniel’s floppy ears, producing moans of canine pleasure, “That is quite all right.”
The sudden clopping of horse’s hoofs fell upon their ears and the stable boy dashed out the door to welcome the newcomer.
Darcy turned his head curiously at the sound of Bingley’s voice; he had not seen his friend at the breakfast table, but had assumed that the man was still abed after a late night at the Lucases.
“Darcy!” Bingley exclaimed, striding into the stable, his face rapturous with joy. “You must congratulate me! Miss Bennet accepted my hand in marriage!”
Darcy grunted in astonishment and concern, but thankfully both the coachman and the stable boy spoke up with their own felicitations, which gave Pemberley’s master a moment to collect himself. He had not expected Bingley to take such a step without consulting him, but the deed was done and Bingley was committed to Miss Bennet. The lady was, at least, a charming woman, even if Darcy had some apprehension that she did not truly love his friend. Still, there was no reason to pour ice water on Bingley’s ardent enthusiasm.
“Congratulations!” he said, deliberately infusing his tone with warmth. “She is a lovely woman.”
“She is indeed,” Bingley enthused, “I consider myself the most fortunate of men. But come, I did not expect to see you out here. I see you and Maxwell are enjoying one another’s company.”
“We are, but then Maxwell is a friendly dog.”
“Friendlier with you than me,” Bingley returned jovially. “Indeed, I think you have stolen his affections away from me, but I find I cannot care today. How is your ankle?”
“It aches considerably, but I am able to put more weight on it with time, so that is all to the good.”
“Everything is good today,” his friend replied sincerely. “Everything is bright and beautiful!”