Vol 1, Chapter 16 #3
“They have excellent connections, and it says here the oldest daughter, the only one from the first marriage, is being courted by Matlock’s son Andrew, Viscount Hilldale.
Also, it seems that Sarah and Percy have accepted her as a granddaughter as much as any of their others by blood.
Besides you, my love, they will have many who will be able to help and guide them through the shark-infested waters of the Ton.
I am pleased. Thomas Bennet has a son, no two sons.
The Bedford dukedom will live on for at least two more generations.
As there is a second son, I will have to amend my request to Cousin George,” the Duke added thoughtfully.
“I agree, my love. It is a good way to honour the first Tom Bennet and his long-suffering mother. I cannot wait to see Sarah’s face when she finds out that her younger daughter will be a duchess before Marie.
I wish it were not so, but it seems to be the will of God.
” Lady Rose had tears in her eyes as she thought of her husband’s approaching death.
The Duchess dried her eyes as though she had not been crying endlessly.
The Duke was saddened by her tears, which continued to fall as she read the report.
“It seems your heir does not enjoy London and its so-called polite society any more than you do, Sed.” She smiled up at him.
“I did see that, love. The report does not tell me all there is to know about the next duke, but I can see that he is a good man, one who cares for his family. For the first time since I opened that letter, I believe that this seat will be filled by a worthy man—one who cares more about people than wealth, power, and connections. We need more peers of that ilk.” Lady Rose felt some hope that her husband might last longer than they suspected, as he seemed to relax now that the stress of worry about his heir lifted.
With more of a spring in his step, the Duke sat down at his desk and wrote a letter with an amended request to his cousin.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Bingley unceremoniously deposited his sister with their spinster aunt, Mathilda Bingley, their late father’s youngest and strongest willed sister, the day he arrived in Scarborough. After meeting with his aunt, he departed without a word to Caroline.
On Monday, the final day of the year 1810, Bingley arrived at his aunt’s house just after ten on a cold morning.
His aunt practically dragged Miss Caroline out of bed and made sure she was downstairs rather quickly; Caroline obeyed as her aunt was not above using her cane as encouragement to motivate her wayward niece.
“Have you finally come to your senses and come to retrieve me, Charles?” she asked as she flounced into the parlour.
There was no answer from Bingley, who did not talk until his aunt closed the door and sat herself down. “Thank you for your time aunt, and for putting up with my ungrateful and delusional sister.”
“How can you speak to me thusly…” Miss Bingley closed her mouth as her aunt raised the cane.
“Need I remind you that I instructed you to remain silent until and unless asked to speak?” Miss Bingley warned.
“I am releasing your dowry to you. After today, I want nothing to do with you, Caroline. Your delusions and lies, and yes, my own weakness, allowed you to exploit me and cost me the friendship of a man that I liked and respected. You will never have the opportunity to manipulate me again.
“Where you live is up to you but know that you will have only five hundred pounds per year to live on with the remainder of your dowry in the four percents.
I have deducted the money you cost me by causing me to be evicted, as well as your overspending and the breakages you caused in my house in Town.
“Darcy did not make an idle threat. It is well known among the Ton that he broke with me. If you, in particular, try to use his name or any of his family’s names, it will be against his express wishes.
You have made your bed, Caroline; now you must lie in it.
If you have any questions, I will remain another five minutes to answer them.
If you start to screech and berate me, I will leave immediately,” Bingley stated with a finality in his tone that shook her to her core.
“How much dowry remains?” Miss Caroline asked carefully.
“Twelve thousand pounds.” Seeing his sister’s horrified look, Bingley explained, “You know about the six thousand. Yes, you thought you manipulated me to cover part of your debt, did you not? The further two thousand indicates my generosity, given your continual overspending of your allowance and the items you destroyed every time you had one of your tantrums.”
“May I withdraw more than the interest?” Miss Caroline asked, hopefully.
“Yes, the money is completely under your control; however, remember this, sister dear—the more principal you access, the less there will be to live on, and neither I nor Hurst will replenish your funds if you fritter them away. So, unless you find some man who has not heard of your reputation as a social climbing, fortune hunting shrew, you will have a hard time finding a husband. Mayhap you should consider a tradesman.” Bingley stood before his sister could retort.
He thanked his aunt and left her house, finally coming to terms with the fact that he too had a lot of growing up to do.