Vol 1, Chapter 3 #2
The carriage had hardly begun to move when Miss Bingley, still smarting from Mr. Bennet’s set down, railed against the country bumpkin.
“Miss Bingley, I am afraid what Mr. Bennet said to you was completely factually correct. It is birth, not wealth, that sets the social order,” Darcy informed the outraged woman.
“Did you notice those pretentious Bennet women? Their gowns looked like Madame Chambourg creations! They must be cheap imitations; she has not even accepted Louisa and me as clients,” Miss Bingley attempted another avenue for which to vent her scorn.
Darcy ignored her prattle as he looked out of the window into the darkness of the night. He too was still smarting from being laughed at and disdained by those he felt were far below him.
“They call the Miss Bennets the jewels of the county. Oh, they are prettyish, I suppose, but I have heard they have dowries of only two thousand five hundred pounds, which makes them nothing to my twenty thousand pounds,” Miss Bingley cooed, hoping that Mr. Darcy would take note.
He did, but not in the way she hoped. ‘Prettyish indeed. They make you look homely, Miss Bingley, and they know how to dress! If only Miss Elizabeth was not so far below me! For Gigi’s sake, I have to make a brilliant match,’ Darcy told himself.
As he ruminated, he came to the realisation that other than Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, no one had mentioned his wealth, Bingley’s, or that of anyone at the assembly.
It puzzled Darcy exceedingly, for it was most singular.
Then it hit him; the only vulgar ones at the assembly were with him in the carriage, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. The sisters had taken every opportunity to slip in mentions of their dowries in an attempt to highlight their wealth and superiority!
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
It was widely known that the Dukedom of Bedford was one of the wealthiest in the Kingdom, but very few knew that the true income from the estates, investments, and the commercial interests was around two hundred thousand per annum.
In the current Duke’s mind, it was karmic justice that all of this accumulated wealth would go to the descendants of Thomas Rhys-Davies.
Lord Sedgwick gave a wry smile as he corrected himself, to Tom Bennet.
The third Duke had cared for nothing but status, wealth, and his name, so how ironic was it that his actions had set in motion a chain of events that would erase the Rhys-Davies name from the Dukedom of Bedford.
In his letter to Norman and James, he had stated that the heir would not be required to change his name.
He laughed ruefully to himself by imagining the third Duke turning over in his grave as all of the discord that he had sown came back to roost.
The Duke of Bedford was currently in Liverpool visiting the main offices of his shipping company, the Dennington Lines.
It was the largest private shipping concern in the realm, and his shipyards held the contracts to build close to sixty percent of all Royal Navy ships.
His tour of all the Dukedom’s holdings was taking longer than he had expected.
He had hoped to be done in Liverpool before the end of November, but it seemed that he was growing weaker and was only able to work for a few hours during the day, less than he had planned.
Lord Sedgwick still had to reach the shipyards in the south, and the six satellite estates, including one in Ireland, two in Wales, and one in Scotland. At this rate, he would be lucky to be done by May or June of the coming year, and that was if his health did not decline further.
His Duchess had insisted she accompany him on his travels. At her suggestion, he had sent an express to Norman and James, vesting Power of Attorney with his wife in the matter of the Bedford heir should he become incapacitated, or die.
“My love, can we not suspend this trip and return to Longfield Meadows?” Lady Rose begged her husband one evening.
“Once I have completed my work here, we will return home for Christmastide, and I will not try to travel again until late March, when the temperatures start to rise in spring. It will set my timetable back significantly, but you know I can deny you nothing that you ask me, Rose my love,” the Duke promised.
The Duchess was happy with the concession and sent letters off that afternoon to have the house prepared for them to spend close to four months in residence.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
As was the norm, the day following the assembly, Charlotte Lucas visited Longbourn to discuss the previous night’s dance with her friends.
Charlotte was six and twenty and feared that she was well and truly on the shelf.
She had a paltry dowry of five hundred pounds and hated the fact that she would be a burden on her parents and her brother Franklin once he inherited.
Unlike her friends, Jane and Eliza, Charlotte had no romantic notions of marrying for the deepest of true love.
She would be happy with any respectable man that could provide her a modest home of her own.
As she often told her friends, she believed that felicity in marriage was a matter of chance.
Jane and Eliza had roundly rejected her notion that it was better not to know too much about one’s spouse before the marriage.
“Welcome, Charlotte,” Jane smiled at their friend, “I trust that you enjoyed the assembly last night.”
“I did. What about you? Aside from that arrogant man slighting you, that is?” Charlotte enquired as Elizabeth pulled a face indicating her distaste at the mention of the haughty man from Derbyshire.
“As I gave my word last night, I will not spread the story of his rudeness to me, but nothing will induce me to like the man. Charlotte, you danced just as many dances last night as I, but I missed Tom exceedingly, for we always need more men who do not think themselves above their company,” Elizabeth responded wryly.
“Speaking of Tom, how is he doing in his second year at Oxford? I am happy that he and Nick are sharing accommodations,” Charlotte stated.
With only two months in age between them, the third oldest Lucas brother, Nicholas, or Nick as everyone called him, and Tom Bennet, had been the closest of friends since they were able to walk.
Sir William, a former tradesman who never had the benefit of a gentleman’s education, had despaired that he did not have the funds to send his three sons to school.
A year before Franklin was of age to attend, Bennet told Sir William that he had convinced his alma maters of Harrow and Oxford to offer scholarships to all three Lucas sons.
What the Lucas family would never know was the Bennets had provided all of the necessary funds for the three boys to gain their educations.
And not only the tuition fees, but everything, including board and lodging.
Rather than question his good fortune, Sir William had accepted the gift on behalf of his sons.
Franklin had graduated Oxford two years previously, John a year later, and now Nick was in the second year with his best friend Tom Bennet.
Also with them in the same year was a distant cousin of the Bennets, Robert Jamison.
“You know Tom, he always finds the best in any situation, and like most of us Bennets, he loves to read and learn,” Jane smiled at Charlotte.
“May I tell Charlotte, Jane?” Elizabeth asked conspiratorially.
“Go ahead, Lizzy,” Jane shook her head in amusement at Lizzy’s excitement to share.
“Tell me what?” Charlotte asked, her curiosity piqued.
“You know we often spend Christmastide at Broadhurst with our grandparents and aunts and uncles?” Elizabeth asked cryptically.
“Yes, it has been so since your father married the current Mrs. Bennet,” Charlotte quirked a brow in question.
“Grandmama has agreed to invite you to accompany us to Broadhurst for the Christmas season,” Elizabeth revealed.
“As long as my parents agree, I would love to accompany you to Lord and Lady Jersey’s estate,” Charlotte replied joyfully. She was sure that her parents would not object, but she would still ask out of respect before she could accept.
The conversation then shifted to the Netherfield party. “What did you think of Mr. Bingley, Jane?” Charlotte asked.
“He is a pleasant man, I suppose,” Jane replied, “but in some ways he reminded me of a puppy dog always seeking his master’s approbation.”
“I believe he was planning to ask you for a second dance, Jane,” Charlotte opined.
“Then it is well that they departed early. It saved him the embarrassment of my refusing a second set,” Jane revealed.
“I am not surprised that you are careful, Jane. You have the luxury to have already refused an Earl and a Marquess. Unlike me, you can afford to be particular in your choice. Even if you never marry, with your fortune you will never be a burden on your family as will be the case for me.” Charlotte turned maudlin as she considered her future prospects, or lack thereof.
“Never give up hope, Charlotte; you never know,” Elizabeth tried to console her friend.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“We have received an invitation to Broadhurst for Christmas, Reggie,” Lady Elaine, the Countess of Matlock, shared with her husband. “Sarah writes that her children and grandchildren will be present.”
“I wonder if that includes their youngest, Priscilla,” the Earl asked. “Did she not marry some country squire or something?”
“Yes, it was Benetton, or Benham, or something like that,” the Countess replied.
“What are we discussing?” Andrew, Viscount Hilldale, asked.
His parents shared the news of the invitation to Broadhurst with their oldest son and heir.
“Are you still pining for that young lady who you met at the Gardiners’ house those few times we met with Gardiner on Portman Square?
” the Countess asked. “If I do not err, she volunteered at Haven house while in Town. Such a nice young lady.”