Chapter 9 #2
After dinner, Mr Gardiner invited Mrs Collins to his study. Lizzy had told him that she had asked to speak to him. They sat down and after he poured drinks for both of them, he asked her how he could help her.
“I assume you know that before my husband passed, he signed the documents to break the entail and was paid twenty thousand pounds by the Bennets,” Charlotte offered and Gardiner allowed that it was so.
“As I am the sole beneficiary of the will, I am now in possession of the draft that my late husband was presented with after the entail was broken. Before I left Hunsford, Lord Matlock advised me to invest the funds with you so that I would have a steady and comfortable income. I do not know if you will accept a sum as small as I possess, but if you will, I would love to invest with your company.”
“I do not take investments under one hundred thousand pounds anymore,” he admitted and Charlotte felt more disappointment than she expected.
“However, given your connection to my favourite nieces and ourselves I will happily accept your funds and invest them on your behalf. Would you like the dividends each quarter to live on? Your funds should generate between two and four thousand pounds per annum.” He smiled as her eyes widened in surprise and relief.
“A million times thank you, Mr Gardiner! My intention is to live on five hundred pounds a year; that way you may reinvest any dividends over and above that amount. I hope to build a good amount of capital that will allow me to assist my brothers and sister in the future, if needed.” Charlotte felt a great weight lift off her shoulders.
She now had a secure future and she would not be a burden on anyone, least of all her family who could ill afford any extra expenses.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
In the days since receiving the invitation to the most sought-after event of the season, Miss Bingley’s siblings had successfully distracted her from calling on Darcy House twice.
They had gone out shopping, and although Caroline had been oblivious to the cold, even frosty, reception that they received from any members of the Ton, her brother and sister were not.
Even with the evidence staring them in the face, they still did not try and take their younger sister in hand.
One afternoon, Bingley and Hurst stormed back into the townhouse.
Louisa had never seen her husband so furious.
When she asked what was vexing him, he informed her that his own and her brother’s memberships to both White’s and Boodle’s had been revoked, as they suspected Darcy had withdrawn his sponsorship.
They were far from the truth of the matter; the edict was from the owners of the establishments!
“What is going on, Mrs Hurst?” he demanded, reminding her with the use of that name that her first loyalty was to him.
“Why are all of our acquaintances suddenly closing their doors to us?” He stated that the most he could get for an answer from people he believed accepted and knew him, was a monosyllabic answer.
Louisa knew what the reason was, but she dissembled.
“I am sure I do not know why you were treated thus, Harold,” she offered in placation, as she once again put her sister above her husband. She settled him with some brandy, and then found her brother drowning his sorrow in another bottle of brandy.
“I was sure that Darce would forgive me; that everything would go back to normal. Perhaps I should not have suggested that he marry Caroline,” Bingley winced.
As much as Louisa wanted to appease her sister, even she knew that Mr Darcy would never offer for her.
She had witnessed his speech before departing their house and unless one was completely delusional, there was no missing his intense dislike of their sister.
“Brother…you did not, did you?” Louisa asked fearfully.
“I did,” he admitted with his head hanging low.
“All I wanted was some peace and quiet, and as Darcy is what Caroline desires, I hoped that if he offered for her our lives would be serene again. I suppose, I do not know what I was thinking. If looks could kill, I would certainly be dead from the look Darcy gave me when I made the suggestion.”
“Charles, not too many days ago you asked me if I thought that you relied on others to make decisions for you, if you were irresolute and always looked for the path of least resistance. I hoped that at least one of us was going to take a stand and that you had finally decided to take charge of your life and your family.” As tears of sadness rolled down her cheeks, Mrs Hurst continued to tell him truths none of them wanted to face.
“Rather than do that, Charles, you again looked for the easy way out. That has led to the ending of a friendship that you value above all others.”
“I was hoping he would…” Bingley hedged.
“You told me about the setdown that you received from Jane Bennet when you tried to excuse your behaviour rather than make a true apology. Has nothing that has happened given you cause to re-evaluate your life and your choices?” she pushed, cutting him off for one of the few times in their lives.
“I -argh! It is so hard! I try but no matter how I resolve to change, nothing has changed and as quickly as I make the resolution, I forget it.” He took a measured breath and settled.
“Once the Ton see us at the Bedford–Jersey Ball, we will be back in everyone’s good graces and we will not need Darcy.
Caroline will be happy to be accepted in the first circles.
You will see, all will be well,” he offered with a half-smile in an effort to convince himself as much as his older sister.
“I hope so, Charles, I truly hope so!” she simply said. Despite how many doubts she had, Louisa did not express them to her brother.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Andrew Fitzwilliam and his wife Marie joined Anne at the entrance of Rosings Park’s manor house to welcome Ian Ashby’s carriage as it came to a halt under the portico.
Their children were in the nursery with their nursemaids.
Ashby was the first to exit the coach, He was a tall man, not as tall as Lord Hilldale, but tall nonetheless with sandy blond hair and green eyes.
Anne could not remember seeing such a pleasant looking man who was not a relative before.
Then again, other than her cousins, Lady Catherine had made sure that her daughter saw almost no men.
He was followed by a gentleman who she assumed to be Mr Benjamin Harrison, the curate that was at Rosings Park to investigate if he would be a good fit to receive the living tied to the Hunsford parish.
After brief greetings and introductions, the gentlemen were shown to their rooms to refresh themselves from the road.
It was agreed that they would all meet in the drawing room in an hour.
As the men were led away by the butler, whom Anne had been pleased to retain due to his loyalty, she smiled to herself.
‘Were Lady Catherine not already insane, the knowledge that a curate was being hosted in this house surely would have done it.’
Anne had received a letter from Uncle Reggie that Andrew and Marie had delivered directly to her when they arrived the previous day.
The missive, besides repeating her uncle’s offer to assist her in any way that she needed or wanted, informed her that her former mother was now ensconced in the most secure wing at Falconwood, where she would spend the rest of her days on this mortal coil.
Anne felt no remorse or sympathy for Lady Catherine.
How could she feel anything but disdain, or even hate, for a woman that let her avarice and desire for power do what she had done to her daughter?
Even worse, that she had planned to murder Anne!
Rather than dwell on her maudlin thoughts, Anne thought about the first meeting with the potential new pastor in the drawing room earlier.
‘His behaviour upon being introduced was all that was correct, despite the elevated company in which he stood. There was no display of obsequious behaviour, nor did he bow and scrape like the sycophants my mother preferred. He certainly did not seem to be of mean understanding.’ Anne already felt good about Mr Harrison as a choice, but she wished to see him at the pulpit Sunday, and to observe his interactions with the parishioners.
With that decision made, Anne’s mind turned to their other visitor, and the image of him was immediately recalled.
‘Oh my,’ Anne thought as she felt a warm sensation that she could not identify spread throughout her body, ‘Mr Ashby is such a handsome man. Am I attracted to him or is it just because he is the first man that I have seen outside of my family and that quack that Lady Catherine foisted on me? Could such a man see me as more than a homely, sickly woman?’ Her thoughts were interrupted by her cousin Marie.
“Anne, are you well? I have tried to get your attention a number of times and you did not hear me,” she said with a tinge of concern in her voice.
“I am well Marie; I was just wool-gathering,” Anne blushed hotter. Marie studied Anne for but a moment before she understood Anne was in her first blush of attraction, and it was easy to guess with whom. Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ as she assessed her cousin then closed in and took her arm.
“You have very good taste, cousin,” Marie whispered, smiling when Anne could not help but giggle a little and hoped that she would hear it endlessly from now on.