Chapter Sixty-One
We have Mr. Darcy to thank for this,” Mr. Bennet told his family. “I never suspected that there might be irregularities in Mr. Collins’ birth.”
“What made you think of it, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked.
Everyone turned to look at Mr. Darcy; he reddened under their admiring gaze. “My father taught me never to assume anything; uncover all the facts before moving forward.”
“You were certainly well-prepared for your role in life, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said. “Not all of us are so fortunate.”
“That is true enough.”
“You told me about your friend, Richard Barnes. Would I be asking too much for you to repeat the story to the rest of my family?” Elizabeth asked.
Mr. Darcy understood at once that Elizabeth wished to make her family understand what had happened to Mr. Bennet, and so he complied. When he was done, all eyes turned to Mr. Bennet.
“Papa? Is that what it was like for you?” Jane asked, softly.
Mr. Bennet stood, motionless. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Finally, he said, “It was like that, yes. But I was even less fortunate than Mr. Barnes, for both my father and my elder brother had died. I was given the keys to the house, and then the servants all came to me for direction. There was a line of tenants waiting to speak to me about repairs, for both my father and my brother had been ill for some time, and the estate had been neglected.” Mr. Bennet shook his head.
He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again.
“I did not know what to do. I was grieving the loss of my father and brother, and at the same time grieving the loss of the life I had anticipated. Decisions had to be made and I made them, and doubtless most of them were wrong. I consoled myself by hiding in my study as often as I could.”
The room was silent except for Mr. Bennet’s voice; every eye was riveted on his face.
After a brief pause, he went on. “After a time, I understood that I would need to marry and bear a son. After six months of mourning, I began attending social events. It was difficult, and my face hurt from pasting a smile on it, but I knew it had to be done. Once I saw Miss Frances Gardiner, though, my face stopped hurting; the smiles were real. Suddenly, the life I had been fated to live did not seem so terrible.” He smiled at his wife, who was staring at her husband with wide eyes, as if she had never seen him before.