Chapter 6 #2
“Still, I must determine how to pay for a governess.” Mrs. Bennet dropped her head into her hand, pressing a thumb on her temple to ease the pressure.
“Mother, there is an easier solution,” Elizabeth said, glancing at her sisters. “If you allow one of us to work with Lydia, and if you will agree the lessons are necessary rather than foolish, perhaps we do not need a governess?”
“What of me?” Kitty asked quietly.
“I hoped you might spend time with me, dearest,” Jane said, her expression conveying her love to her sister.
“You are not difficult, Kitty. It is Lydia who acted hoydenish at the assembly. Mr. Darcy stated, in no uncertain terms, she would be the ruin of us all were we in Town.” Mrs. Bennet whipped up a hand to stop her youngest daughter’s protest. “It is my fault as much as it is yours, Daughter. We must correct our behaviors. You act out and are an embarrassment to your sisters. Do not protest, it is true. It is also true of me.”
“Excuse me!” Mr. Bennet called out, having been ignored but for his wife’s sarcastic welcome. “You will not have your brother come to this house so he can determine if my estate is running at its full capacity.”
“I believe the marriage articles state our mother’s care while you are alive and the commitment to see she is taken care of after your demise, does it not?
I have made many suggestions to increase the yield of our fields and household.
You chose not to employ them, so we can presume you intend to secure our mother’s future care through other means.
Your informing us of the means by which it will occur would go a long way to easing her mind,” Elizabeth said boldly.
Mrs. Bennet took great pleasure from her husband’s indignation when his favorite daughter did not appear to regret putting him in an impossible position.
All knew food, clothing, and shelter were not enough if there were no sons and an entail to male heirs.
Elizabeth was correct, though Mrs. Bennet did not believe her husband’s pride would allow him to confess it.
“Do tell me, Mr. Bennet, for I would very much like to know how you have satisfied those terms,” Mrs. Bennet said, breaking her roll in half.
“You know I have not,” Mr. Bennet said, looking down at his plate.
“Then it is what we believed. The question now is whether or not you could have and chose not to, or if it was not possible,” Mrs. Bennet said.
She could see that Mr. Bennet felt his world crashing around him.
Mr. Bennet also knew he had no excuse, that no words could make up for his lack of care.
Nor ignoring his duty. He had been self-indulgent in nearly every decision.
He had failed to keep his promises in favor of indolence.
She recognized in his behaviors those same things she was guilty of.
Having answers, or at least knowing his intentions, would go a long way toward settling her. For now, her husband was coming to terms with his failure in his duties to her and their daughters, just as she was coming to terms with her own to him and their daughters.
Mrs. Bennet did not doubt that her husband bit back a complaint of palpitations in his chest when his breath became shallow.
To see him struggle as she had under the weight of the entail was something she knew she should not enjoy, but found it quite a pleasure.
She could well guess he pondered over how her settlement had become their subject of interest. She wondered more at not having asked about it before.
And Mrs. Bennet was quite pleased her husband now knew he was wrong to presume she lacked the acumen to understand his duty.
She had a right to know how he intended to address her care.
More so if he had no intentions, she regretted their daughters’ need to manage what he had not.
Pressing them to marry as soon as may be was, that morning, not so palpable to her when it had been her every thought these many years.
“Charlotte explained to me, in no uncertain terms, that I humiliate our daughters with my constant extolling of virtues or complaining of faults that do not exist in the measure I speak of. Mary, if you are finished, please join me in the sitting room that we might continue our talk.” Mrs. Bennet then turned her head to Elizabeth.
“Would you pen the letter to my brother Gardiner requesting the review?”
“Of course. Also, I had thought to ask Charlotte if she might come for tea to meet Miss Darcy. Mr. Darcy asked if he might introduce her to our acquaintance today. But if you would rather, I can send Miss Darcy an invitation for tomorrow and invite Charlotte then.”
Mrs. Bennet felt some satisfaction to see that her husband’s favorite daughter now spoke to her with the same respect she gave him.
“I am glad to have them all come to tea. I remember your mentioning it now,” Mrs. Bennet said, though she well knew Elizabeth had not spoken of it before.
“Mother, I regret offending you last night. Mr. Darcy and I both hoped Jane and Mr. Bingley might come to know one another before you announced their attachment. I do apologize,” Elizabeth said with her usual humor.
“I was out of my senses with excitement, announcing them matched before they had danced a full set together. You need not apologize. You were correct in asking me to cease my declarations. I did not consider that I put them both in so awkward a position,” Mrs. Bennet said, blinking back tears pressed upon her by heightened emotions.
“Excuse me?” Mr. Bennet attempted to gain the attention of all in the room.
“Do not pretend you do not enjoy our follies, Mr. Bennet. And do not for another moment think I do not recognize you have made a joke of me to our neighbors for these many years,” Mrs. Bennet said, dismissing her husband’s anger.
“I think I will refuse this Mr. Darcy's entry.” Mr. Bennet balled up his napkin and tossed it on the table.
“To what purpose? Barring him for honesty seems extreme. I now understand that, in your denying my repeated requests to take us to Town, you showed a greater kindness than you might have done by giving in to my demands. Lizzy’s and Jane’s warning of our being shunned was agreed to in no uncertain terms. So, truly, I thank you, Mr. Bennet,” Mrs. Bennet said through lips pressed thin.
“Your friend and his sister are welcome, Lizzy. Your father does not care what goes on in this house so long as his peace is not disturbed. You girls well know it.”
“Tell me now, what did this Mr. Darcy say of your behavior? What right did he have to say it?”
“You have not cared how I have managed since the day you married me. You were to help me learn the duties of the mistress of this house. You take no interest in me, and now, you take little interest in us. I gave up hope that you might care some time ago. We have gone this long without your guidance. I daresay we can manage well enough without it today.” Mrs. Bennet dismissed her husband with the same nonchalance he had shown her these many years.
“What confuses me is how you push us towards compromising situations when you know it can lead to great unhappiness,” Mary said, the only one looking at her, whilst her sisters looked at their father.
“Are you never wrong, Mary?” Mrs. Bennet sighed.
“It is rare enough that my sisters have stopped questioning me,” Mary said with a diffident shrug of one shoulder, then smiled when the ladies burst out laughing.
“Thank you, Mary,” Mrs. Bennet said, taking care to infuse warmth in words so her middle daughter knew she continued to be pleased with her honesty.
“Mother, I will attend to the letter to Uncle Gardiner. But first, I must send Charlotte the note inviting her to tea. I shall just take my cup of coffee with me.” Elizabeth stood.
“I forbid you to write this letter,” Mr. Bennet declared.
Mrs. Bennet knew some guilt when she and the girls talked on without including Mr. Bennet. She felt relief when she saw his anger subside. In the end, they all understood that their having taken matters in hand suited him, so he would not have to do these things himself.
“It is unfortunate neither of you could look past your misery to help your daughters,” Mary said. Without inflection, there was no accusation, only a statement of fact.
“I agree,” Lydia said. “Mama informed me this morning that some of those I called friends are forbidden to interact with me. Their families find me too flamboyant and indecorous. I hope it is not my friends who shun me of their own accord.”
“Why would you think they might shun you?” asked Mr. Bennet.
When Lydia shook her head, Mrs. Bennet answered for her youngest child.
“Lydia flitted about pressing men to dance with her at the assembly last evening. Begged them to pay her compliments.”
“Then all was as expected, was it not?” Mr. Bennet’s lips twisted into a wry sort of smile.
“Why do you hate us all so much, Father?” Lydia asked tearfully.
Mrs. Bennet understood well why Mr. Bennet had lost the ability to draw a breath.
A tear fell to his cheek. She suspected he could not get his bearings, that the room swam in his vision.
Guessing this was the first time her husband was forced to see how his actions and inactions were viewed through the eyes of their children, she felt a modicum of sympathy.
Her brief talk with Mary had changed many of her certainties into humiliations.
“I do not hate you, child. I do not hate any of my daughters. I have loved you since the day you were born,” Mr. Bennet said, struggling to get the words out.
“If laughing at me and calling me one of the silliest girls in all of England is what you call love, then why do you not do so with Jane as you do with Mary, Kitty, and me? Or make sport of Lizzy? We are all well aware she is the only one you care for,” Lydia accused.
“I—”
Mrs. Bennet saw her husband, a man ever ready with a witty retort, staring at their daughter at a complete loss for words.
“Kitty and I watched Charlotte, Jane, Lizzy, and Mary for the last hour of the assembly.
I am angry, but I'm unsure whether Mama is most at fault, you, or if it is mine because I refused to listen to Lizzy and Jane when they said my behavior was improper. The only conclusion is that you hate us just as much as you hate our mother. You hate all of us except Lizzy.” Lydia fled the room in tears.
“I was forced to see us through very different eyes last evening.” Mrs. Bennet touched the handkerchief to the tip of her nose.
“It was an unpleasant experience. I spent the rest of the night writing questions for my daughters to answer. I first attempted to have Jane do so. She refused, so I asked Mary instead, since Lizzy was walking out. Her answers were all I feared and more. You must understand, Mr. Bennet. I needed to know how many ways I was failing in my duties, both as mother and the mistress of this house.”
“You are an excellent hostess, Fanny. None can refute it.”
“But one duty of an estate’s mistress. You failed us all, but mine are the more grievous between us.
I failed to give you an heir. I hope one day to gain your forgiveness.
Only then might I be able to forgive myself.
Last night, I finally recognized that I have been angry with myself for much of these last two decades, and I am exhausted. ”
“Fanny, you should not—”
“I am not ashamed of having our daughters. I am proud of them all, and I am disheartened to know you are not.” Mrs. Bennet then escaped her husband’s censure, if with more grace than had Lydia.
Mr. Bennet’s Thoughts Take an Unexpected Turn
When Bennet found his bearings, he had retreated to his bookroom and was again at his desk.
He had known the day would come when he would be called to account for his sins.
He had, however, always assumed he would be facing his Heavenly Father when it occurred.
Bennet wept for the first time in decades.
How often he sat alone in this room! Bennet recognized the situation he had cultivated. Comprehending that his company was not wanted beyond his bookroom, he understood what it was to be lonely.