Chapter 15
March 1797
Gardiner,
I am at my wit’s end. Franny refuses to leave the mistress’s suite. I have had Mrs Goulding and the vicar visit, to no avail.
Please find a way to come to Longbourn. I know not what to do. Mayhap Mrs Gardiner may lend a sympathetic ear.
Bennet
Bennet sat with his brother Gardiner by the warm hearth. It would have been a comfortable setting to partake in good port if the mood had been less grim. The absence of Andrew Gardiner, dead nearly two years, hung over them still.
“Copper ran off,” Bennet remarked. “Again.”
“He is probably at my father’s grave.”
“Yes. That is where we usually find him.”
“He will adapt. Or not.” Gardiner looked at the window.
Following a knock on the door, Hill entered with tea. “Mrs Gardiner ordered it. She will be in directly.”
“Uh-oh,” murmured Gardiner.
“It has been four days since Franny has spoken a word to me,” Bennet observed.
Gardiner pursed his lips. “My wife surely will have words. For you.”
Bennet swallowed. “And?”
“I suggest you swallow your pride and listen very, very carefully.”
Mrs Gardiner entered moments later. The men stood.
“How are you, my dear?” asked Gardiner.
“I am troubled.” She looked at Bennet before asking her husband to take his nieces for a walk away from the house. “An outing in the fresh air will be beneficial.”
A moment later, Bennet was seated across from Mrs Gardiner. Her recent avoidance of him gave him much worry; that Gardiner did not stay set off alarm bells. He did not want a meeting such as this to descend into hostility. She brushed out her skirts. “May I speak frankly?”
“Please do.”
She cleared her throat, then squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze. “You have failed to support Mrs Bennet—as a wife, mother, and mistress of this estate.”
Despite feeling immediately injured by her words, he controlled his temper. “How have I been neglectful?”
“She had a companion and masters while a solicitor’s daughter, did she not?”
“She did,” he admitted, feeling wary.
“Where is your daughters’ governess? Where are their masters? Drawing and music instructors?”
“I left that to Franny. Is it not a mother’s duty?”
Mrs Gardiner’s face turned grim. He did not understand how far off the mark was his answer until anger bloomed across her face by way of a flush. “You absolve yourself of your daughters’ education? Does a father not have an obligation to care?”
“I did not?—”
“The lower servants undermine your wife. The principal matron of the neighbourhood defends her to her peers.” She did not wait for his reply. “Why have you not spoken to their husbands?”
Bennet opened his mouth, but no words came forth.
“The predominant male figure in their lives is Sergeant Reeves. You have left innocent girls to the responsibility of a ruffian-turned-killer!” Mrs Gardiner brushed out her dress skirt again. In a quieter voice, she continued. “A loving wife knows everything about her husband. Everything. As I do of mine. We have no secrets between us.”
From this Bennet surmised that Gardiner had confided in his wife of his business and association with Roark. “I see I have been remiss.”
“Yes, you have. But they are yet young and it is not too late for you to support and guide your daughters and your wife.”
Bennet nodded and joined her at his desk as they wrote letters to connexions that would help resolve his oversights. That evening, he spoke from his heart when he apologised to Franny. He confessed his shortcomings and begged her to accept his flaws. He vowed to do better by her. By their children.
And I shall start immediately.
A gavel banged upon the head table initiating the proceedings of an estate owners’ assembly. “Let us begin, gentlemen,” called out Lord Haversham.
The twenty-four estate owners of Meryton and the county took their seats.
“We are here to select the next magistrate. This evening’s result will be for a six-year term. First to speak, Mr Harrington.”
Mr Harrington used his five minutes to share his knowledge of town’s newest laws and court decisions. He summarised the few weeks he observed runners from Bow Street. Mr Long presented his local connexions throughout the gentry, vicarages, and larger tenant farms. He enumerated his relations all about the county and dwelt upon the good names his extensive familial relations boasted. Mr Lucas spoke of his business, his familiarity with the Meryton citizenry, and displayed the depth of his geographical knowledge of the shire as it related to conducting commerce.
The three candidates sat in chairs next to the head table. Haversham called for a vote. Each estate owner stood and called out the name of their chosen candidate.
The tally reached an equal six votes for each candidate. Everyone then looked to Bennet, who stood. “As neither of the first two men can manage their household, it is folly to consider them for a position that requires strength of character. I cast my vote for Mr Lucas.”
Bennet turned and left. As he did, he overheard Lambrook, known to the neighbourhood as Smyth, say, “I also cast my vote for Mr Lucas. I should expect neither Mr Harrington or Mr Long look to Longbourn, nor Netherfield Park, for any advantages in the future.”
Franny sorted through the post—two letters from her school chums written in a decidedly feminine scroll. A third message written in a male script caught her attention. She had never received a letter from a man other than her husband. Propriety required her to hand it to him, but curiosity called her to read the contents and discern the writer.
The light had grown dim on the cloudy day so she rose from the sofa and went to stand by the window that she might better see the words on the page. It proved a mistake; she felt as if she might swoon as she read the venomous, poisonous, and foul language directed at her husband.
“…illegitimate assumption of my inheritance…ancestral evil doings towards a legally-wedded couple…fraudulently denying the rightful heir his due…call on the Almighty to right an overt wrong…pray to bring hellfire and brimstone upon you and yours…”
She gasped and fought to regain her breath. The enormity of the accusations the writer made, detailing her husband’s dishonourable actions. The letter was unsigned but the writer knew his target.
She dropped it, covered her eyes with both hands and wept. The curses and the appeals to the Almighty to strike down her beloved, herself, and those in her family were heinous. She attempted to regain her self-control but fell again into uncontrolled sobbing.
She was suddenly enfolded from behind in a tender embrace. “What is it?” Bennet asked gently.
Franny turned within his arms. “Who, Thomas? Who?” she cried.
He picked up the letter, skimmed it, and dropped it into the fire. “I know not why, my dear. It is my distant cousin—he is a difficult man, a hard man. He is not a good man.”
“This malice is unfathomable. I cannot believe any of it. How long has this been so? What can we do?”
“Josiah Collins has had the same foul slander written by a clerk and sent to me regularly, as he is incapable of doing so. It costs him much, as he cannot read or write. I feed each of his messages into the fire unread.” Bennet pursed his lips. “Now that he has harassed you, I must act. I cannot leave this unchallenged.”
“Please do not subject yourself to danger,” begged Franny.
Bennet patted her hand. “Of course not. I will ask Reeves to visit my cousin.”
“Promise me that is all you shall do.”
Bennet raised her hands and gave a kiss to each. “Fear not.”
Gardiner,
I hope this letter finds you and finds you well. I find myself in a bit of a hobble and seek your assistance. It concerns your brother Bennet’s estate.
You know of the demise of Josiah Collins. Upon his death, we filed with the Chancery Courts to change the fee tail to fee simple. I will not tire you with the legalese; let it be said that the change is in the best interest of the landholders and the Crown.
Our application was denied! What is extraordinary is that the court scribe did not post accompanying legal counter-arguments against our filing. Completely unheard of. A whimsical ruling such as this is like the catalyst for the War of the Roses.
I ask you to use your connexions to investigate this irregularity; I have included the names of anyone possibly related to this rum business. I have also added a small summary of a contretemps which occurred in April, the year of our Lord 1786, between your father and a lawyer from town.
Godspeed in your endeavours.
Philips