Chapter 6
If Bennet were to say that he was anything but relieved when Jones informed him of his wife’s death, he would have been prevaricating.
Now was not the time to think of such things as there was much to do.
Because of what he needed to achieve, Bennet had not gone upstairs to see his wife’s body yet as Phillips had.
The child, another daughter, not twin sons as his late wife crowed about there would be, needed sustenance.
Bennet knew of two tenant farmers’ wives who had given birth recently.
To that end, he dispatched a groom to see if one of them would be willing to feed his new and yet unnamed daughter until a wet nurse could be employed.
He intended to pay for the interim service, but to alleviate the inconvenience on the new mother, the babe and a nursemaid to care for her would stay at the tenant’s home until a more permanent solution was in place.
As luck would have it, the groom returned informing his master that Mrs Greenly, who had birthed her first child some six weeks past, was willing to come to the manor house and feed the new Bennet daughter.
It was on condition that her son come with her.
Her husband agreed that he could spare his wife for a time until the wet nurse began her duties at Longbourn.
“Jim, tell the Greenlys that I accept most gratefully. Take the trap to collect her and her son. Inform her that the nursemaids at the manor house will help with her babe as well as with my new daughter,” Bennet instructed.
“Aye, Master,” the groom responded, he put his cap back on and made his way to the kitchens to exit via the servants’ door.
Only once he knew that his newest daughter would soon be fed did Bennet allow himself to make his way up the stairs to the birthing chamber. As he approached the door, he found Phillips comforting his wife who was crying into her husband’s shoulder.
“I am sorry for your loss, Hattie,” Bennet said sincerely. Just because he was not disappointed by his wife’s passing did not mean that no one would mourn her loss.
“You are not sorry…” Hattie began angrily before she caught herself.
She wiped her eyes. “The truth is, I will understand if you are not. What Fanny and my Mama did by entrapping you, so you would not be able to pursue the then Miss Morris was not right. As Mama loved Fanny best, I suppose she is happy her favourite is with her once again, wherever that may be.”
“I do understand your reaction. Regardless of how she acted when she was alive, my late wife was your sister, and even if you did not always like what she did, you did love her,” Bennet soothed.
“Thank you for pardoning my outburst, Thomas,” Hattie responded. “We must notify Edward.”
About a year past, Gardiner had become the owner of his former mentor’s concern.
Mr Daltry had considered him almost like the son he never had, and the only family he had was a very distant relative who was the steward of a great estate in Derbyshire.
He had never met the family, and as far as he knew, they were not aware of his existence, but he had them investigated to determine if he should leave them anything.
The report told that Lucas Wickham’s wife was a spendthrift, and the son was not an honourable boy.
As the Wickhams had never taken the time to discover if they had any other family, Gardiner had been made his primary beneficiary.
Other than some bequests to servants and staff, everything else, which included the business, a house on Gracechurch Street, and his funds in the bank, became Edward Gardiner’s property.
He renamed the business, Gardiner and Associates.
Over the years, the amount Bennet had initially invested with his brother-in-law had begun to grow.
To his balance, he added the two-thousand-pound profit from the estate each year.
Bennet was confident that even with a fifth daughter, he would be able to provide each of them with better than respectable dowries.
“Of course, he must be told,” Bennet agreed. “After I see her body and speak to Mrs Sherman and Mr Jones, I will scribe a note. It will be taken by a groom when it is ready to go. Given the time of the year, dawn will break before he rides.”
Bennet entered the almost still birthing chamber.
The heat from the roaring fire which had been built up to keep his late wife warm during the birthing process was still hanging in the air even though the fire had been extinguished.
Other than the hissing from the wood as it cooled, the only other noise was the hum of a softly spoken conversation between the midwife and Jones.
As soon as his presence was noted, the two ceased speaking.
“I know that it is far too common that women die in childbirth, but is there anything I need to know with regards to my late wife’s passing?” Bennet had not looked at the body yet.
“The late Mrs Bennet did not come to either Mrs Sherman nor me, but she acquired all sorts of tinctures and tonics which promised to make sure she birthed a son,” Jones revealed.
“Other than God’s word, there is nothing which can decide the sex of a babe, and I am sure the charlatans who took Mrs Bennet’s money cared not a whit.
In my opinion, her great size can be attributed to some of the poison she imbibed.
However, the contents of this bottle,” Jones held up the almost empty glass container, “and the many empty bottles we discovered hidden under her dresser, was the culprit for her bleeding the way she did. This ended up being the main factor, in my opinion, which led to her end.”
“What was it which you believe killed her?” Bennet enquired.
“It is pure, undiluted meadowsweet.” Jones explained what the herb’s effect on the blood was.
“Will the herb harm my new daughter?” Bennet questioned.
“My suspicion is that it could, but the truth is that we men of science do not know much about what affects a babe while growing in its mother’s belly.
That being said, even if it does, so long as your new daughter does not bleed for the next fortnight or so, in my opinion, she will be well,” Jones explained.
“There was no question that my late wife was of mean understanding, but to believe that drinking some potion would guarantee a son, is beyond my comprehension.” Bennet shook his head.
“My suggestion is that you have the body interred as soon as may be. With the heat of the season…” Jones trailed off.
“The same day that Gardiner arrives, she will be laid to rest,” Bennet responded. “Jones, I think you and Mrs Sherman should return to your homes. I assume you will deliver a certificate of death on the morrow?”
“You mean later today. Indeed, I will,” Jones replied.
The two collected all the instruments of their trades and left the birthing chamber. Bennet was now alone with the earthly remains of his late wife.
“I know not if you and your late mother have been admitted into heaven. No matter the bad feelings I had for you and your mother, I forgive you for what you did. In doing so, it is more for me than you, but it is what I have to do,” Bennet told the corpse lying on the bed.
Now that the blood had been cleaned up, other than looking rather pallid, the body looked almost like it was at peace.
No decision about mourning would be taken until Gardiner arrived from London. With the door open, he heard a soft noise from the hall. When he exited the birthing chamber, Hattie was seated in a chair along the wall.
“As her older sister, it falls to me to sit with Fanny’s remains,” Hattie stated as she stood. “Thomas, have you a name for your newest daughter yet?”
“I had not thought about the subject. Do you have a suggestion?”
“My late maternal grandmother was Lydia. Would you object if she is named for Grandmama Lydia?”
Even though he knew Lydia had been part of the late Jane Gardiner’s name, he decided it would be petty to refuse that name because of that fact.
“No, that is a good name. Her second name will be for you. She will be known as Lydia Hattie,” Bennet allowed.
“I hope that you will continue to be close to my daughters. They will need your love.”
“As long as you allow me to be part of their lives, I will be,” Hattie returned. “It will be my absolute honour to love all of my nieces.” With a smile that she would not be cut off from her nieces, she entered the chamber and pushed the door closed softly.
As Bennet hoped he would, Jim had already brought Mrs Greenly and her son to the manor house. Her husband had accompanied them to ensure his wife was situated as she should be.
“Greenly, Mrs Greenly, I thank you for being willing to help me until I am able to employ a wetnurse.” Bennet saw Mrs Hill standing off to one side.
“Mrs Hill, will you show Mrs Greenly and her son to the room near the nursery where Lydia is…” He did not miss the questioning look on the housekeeper’s brow.
“Her name is Lydia Hattie. As I was saying, I am sure Lydia is past ready for sustenance.” He waited until Mrs Hill, now holding the Greenley babe, had led Mrs Greenly up the stairs.
“Greenly, you are welcome to visit your wife here whenever the household is awake. It is my hope that I will have a wetnurse as soon as I am able. If I am successful, your wife will be home in a matter of days.”
“I thank ye, Master. Me wife an’ me be ‘appy ta ‘elp ye,” Greenly replied with a bow. Happy his wife was well; he made his way out to the stables where his horse was waiting for him.