Chapter 7
Regardless of how many mothers had attempted to match their daughters with him, Bennet resisted any and all attempts. Thankfully, no one attempted to entrap him because Hattie had been very effective in spreading the gossip that he would never give in to a compromise again.
Within a year of his wife’s passing, some brazen fathers had taken the step of coming to confirm the gossip with Bennet.
He had sent them away leaving no doubt that he was deadly serious in his resolve never to be forced to marry again.
The upshot of their calls—which could only mean one of their daughters was being prepared to compromise him—was that he was never at home to the men or anyone in their families, and he refused any invitation from them.
If he was approached by anyone he found objectionable at one of the few places he called, like Lucas Lodge, Bennet cut them, like he had the Kingstons.
He had never liked the family, but then they tried to push their eldest daughter—who was barely fourteen—at him.
Hence, he cut the connection permanently.
It did not take long before the four families who he did visit, never invited any of those Bennet objected to—especially not the Kingstons—when an invite had been sent to Longbourn.
The only good which came out of the shameless attempt to discover his determination to not gratify a compromise was that the gossip was confirmed, and since then, no one who saw their daughter as the next mistress of Longbourn approached him.
In the six years since his wife’s death the thing which gave Bennet the most pleasure, even more than he derived from reading his books, was his gaggle of daughters.
Mrs Dudley was worth her weight in gold.
She provided a complete education to his daughters, which aside from academic subjects included music, comportment, and how to behave with propriety.
Thanks to her lessons, Bennet had five extremely well behaved daughters.
Each had her own quirks, like teasing, impertinence, or high spirits, but those traits were never seen in public.
There were some areas in which the governess was not an expert, or she had taken the girls as far as she was able. Hence, it was no insult to her when masters began to come to Longbourn.
When Jane turned twelve, she asked for the ‘y’ to be dropped from her name, and was now thirteen.
Lizzy, had reached the age of eleven in March past, and Mary would be ten in July upcoming.
They were all three mainly being taught by masters, in addition to still having a few lessons with the governess.
For Kate, who would be eight in September and Lyddie as she approached her sixth birthday in June, the lessons were almost exclusively with Mrs Dudley.
In addition to all of his daughters being very intelligent, each one had an area in which she excelled.
Jane’s skill was in the still room; she could make tinctures and elixirs as well as Mr Jones.
In fact, there were times when Jane assisted the apothecary and physician in one person.
If that were not enough, she was expert in distilling the scented water she and her sisters preferred.
When she had the ingredients, she could also produce the scent Bennet used.
Lizzy had a memory like Bennet had never seen before.
He had read about those who could see or read something once and recall every detail perfectly, but until he realised that Lizzy had that ability, he had never seen one with perfect recall.
If that was not enough, his second daughter was a genius in maths and was the best of his daughters with languages.
Each of his daughters had chosen musical instruments they liked to play above all others—Jane the harp, Lizzy and Mary the pianoforte, Kate the cello, and Lyddie the violin—each one was on her way to being proficient.
However, Mary excelled on the pianoforte.
The music master who Bennet employed, one of the most renowned music masters in England at the time, Senore Alberto da Funti, spent two days at Longbourn every fortnight.
Senore had told Bennet that Mary was one of the most gifted students he had ever taught.
To ensure that both Lizzy and Mary would have a good pianoforte on which to play and practise, Bennet purchased a Stodart grand pianoforte for his daughters.
The only problem was the parlour, where the current instrument was, did not have the space for the new one.
Bennet’s solution was to build a proper music room onto the east side of the house.
When completed, it had more than enough room for all the instruments his daughters enjoyed, including the Stodart.
The upright pianoforte was left in the parlour it had always occupied.
Kate was a natural artist. She was so good that from the age of seven, upon Mrs Dudley’s recommendation, Bennet had added Kate to the lessons the art master gave to Jane, Lizzy, and Mary when he taught at Longbourn.
No matter the medium—charcoal, pencil, water colours, or oil paints—Kate flourished.
When she drew either human or animal, she could capture the mood of her subject perfectly.
Given her proficiency, Bennet had the art master remain for two hours longer to give Kate lessons on her own.
Bennet had taught his three eldest daughters chess when they were eight.
Kate would begin her lessons with him beginning in October of that year.
Bennet had thought he was humouring Lyddie when soon after her fifth birthday she had requested to sit in when he gave her older sisters lessons, or when possible, when actual games were being played.
Rather than get tired of watching and listening, Lyddie had soaked in everything.
That had become apparent when four months later, Lyddie had asked Bennet if she could play against him.
He agreed and decided to play in a way which would allow her to win no matter how bad she was.
After two moves Lyddie called him out for not playing properly, so Bennet did.
She had played him to a draw! The only daughter better at chess than Lyddie at that point was Lizzy.
But not for long. Two months later, Lyddie was beating anyone who challenged her.
Bennet played chess via post with Mr Robert Darcy, his acquaintance from his days at Cambridge.
At first, their games were evenly split with each having the same number of wins and losses.
Suddenly things changed, and Mr Darcy never won again.
Bennet did not have the heart to tell Darcy that it was his five year old daughter who beat him.
Over the years since his wife had been lost in childbirth, Bennet had become even closer to Sir William Lucas and Johnathan Long.
He was not a misanthrope, but he preferred not being active in local society.
Invitations he consistently accepted were to the estates of the Lucases and Longs.
It did not hurt that each family had girls who were very close to some or all of his daughters.
The eldest Lucas daughter, Charlotte, who was eighteen, was a best friend to Jane and Lizzy.
The intelligence of the latter two, more than made up for the age difference.
The youngest Lucas, Maria, was six and very close to Kate and Lyddie.
The Longs had adopted their two nieces four years past when their parents, —Long’s brother and his sister-in-law—had been taken by a virulent fever while the girls were visiting their aunt and uncle near Meryton.
The girls were named Mandy, who was ten, and Cara, who was seven.
The older girl was Mary Bennet’s closest friend while the younger was very close to Kate, Maria Lucas, and Lyddie.
All the while, Bennet did anything he could to improve Longbourn’s income, and therefore, he sent as much as possible of the profit to Gardiner.
The latter and his wife, Maddie, were very close to their nieces.
The two had married on the final Saturday of July 1796.
Beginning when Jane was ten and Lizzy eight, they would spend a month during the winter with the Gardiners, and their aunt and uncle spent some time at Longbourn three or four times each year.
Mary also began to travel to London when she was eight, and it was no surprise that all five of Bennet’s daughters loved the Gardiners deeply.
For almost four years there had been no sign of Maddie falling with child. Hattie had commiserated with her as she understood the pain of having no children. That had all changed when Maddie delivered a girl in April 1800 who was named Lillian after her late mother. She was called Lilly by all.
Rather than Hattie being jealous, she was happy to have one more niece to love. She and Phillips spent as much time as possible with their local nieces, and like they did the Gardiners, the Bennet sisters loved Aunt Hattie and Uncle Frank.
Due in large part to the love his daughters received from their aunts, Bennet’s girls never asked about why they had no Mama like their friends, nor did they seem to miss someone in that role in their lives at all.
Even though Hattie loved to gossip and was mean of understanding, Bennet encouraged contact between her and his daughters.
She loved them unconditionally and unlike her late sister, she was not conniving, dishonourable, or vicious.
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William Collins had entered the seminary in Westerham a year after his sire had drowned in his drunken state.
He was debating whether or not he should inform his Bennet cousin, the one who had stolen the family estate from the Collins line, about the death of his father.
To that end, during the 1802 Easter term break, he returned to his house in Faversham and sought the advice of his mentor about a question which had been plaguing him.